Author Note: Thank you one and all for the fantastic reviews, favorites, follows, and just for taking the time to read my drivel.

This chapter, like the last, is going to be rather fast paced and have a lot of plot development. It is also really long. I've realized that I need to bring Loki back soon, or I'm going to drag this out for like…50+ chapters. Actually, that may happen anyway.

Anyway, here goes…

Trudy came home the day before they had to leave for Chicago. They spent most of the afternoon making sure she and her new oxygen tank would be comfortable and then stayed up late playing cards. In the week and a half she had known the old woman, Alice had learned and perfected more card games than she had previously known existed.

They sat around the small dining room table playing Texas Hold 'Em. Poker was Trudy's favorite game and she knew every variation in the book.

"So," the old woman said conversationally. "When will you kids be back to visit?"

Alice thought for a minute, knowing full well that Heather would kill her if she took another trip this long in the near future.

"How about Christmas?" John suggested, flipping three of the cards on the table.

Christmas was definitely okay for Alice. It was tradition that she and Heather closed the shop for the week between Christmas and New Years to give the staff a vacation. Heather always went to visit her family in Michigan, while Alice stayed alone in her apartment and maybe went to visit her dad on the holiday, if they were speaking at that point.

"Christmas is good," Alice agreed. "I won't be doing anything."

"Well, I won't keep you the whole time," Trudy smiled. "I'm sure your mom and dad will want to see you."

Frowning, Alice shook her head.

"Probably not," she sighed. "Dad and I aren't speaking at the moment and my sister Becca is going to be in Europe."

"What about your mom, honey?"

It was an innocent question, but it made Alice uneasy. She knew that Trudy was simply curious, but her mother was a touchy subject.

"She…won't miss me," Alice replied carefully. "She hasn't…well…I haven't seen her since I was six. She left my dad and we never heard from her again."

The silence that followed was almost tangible. It seemed to ring off the walls to the point that even breathing seemed to be interrupting it.

"It's not a big deal," Alice mumbled finally. "She just…doesn't care."

Clearing his throat, John took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"She doesn't know what she is missing," he said in almost a whisper.

"I'm sure she does," Alice disagreed. "She just didn't want a family. After she had my sister she started telling dad that she's made a mistake. She would leave and not come back for days at a time, and when she did she was so strung out that she didn't really serve as much of a mom. One day she just never came back."

"That's terrible, sweetheart," Trudy soothed. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

The subject was becoming increasingly irritating by the second. Honestly, Alice hated her mother for what she had done. Because of the lack of commitment between her parents, Alice had always feared getting into a serious relationship. In fact, before John she had never been with one guy for more than a few months, her longest relationship lasting little more than a year. At 25, she could not say she had ever actually been in love. That is, until John came along.

In that respect, their relationship terrified her. She found herself depending on him emotionally, needing his support in her decisions. Not only that, but she would often lay awake at night fearing what would happen if he ever left her. It would absolutely crush her, and that was terrifying. Honestly, she had reached the point where she could hardly picture life without him. This had happened quite early in their relationship, which had almost driven Alice to leaving him, but Heather had been the voice of reason and urged her to stay. According to Heather, this was normal in serious relationships.

"That's what love is like," she had assured her. "It's feeling completely connected to the other person. Love happens when two people become one."

For the sake of Alice's sanity, she really hoped Heather had been right.

"Are you alright, darling?" John asked softly, waving a hand in front of Alice's face.

This brought her crashing back down to reality and she nodded as she began to compose herself.

"I'm fine," she muttered. "Just really tired. I should go to bed."

By the look on the others faces, she could tell they knew she was lying, but they simply excused her from the table, John promising to meet her in the bedroom in a minute.

As she walked to the spare room, she could hear John and Trudy talking in low tones. She knew full well that Trudy insisting that she was sorry for bringing up the subject of her mother and John insisting that it was his fault for not warning her. It made her feel guilty for reacting so badly, but the thought of her mother made her sick to her stomach. Likely a side effect of spending her entire childhood telling everyone her mom was dead to save the pain of admitting she had abandoned the family.

Trying to push away negative thoughts, Alice changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed. They were still sleeping on the sun porch, taking advantage of the view while they still had the chance. For a while she just lay there, going over the names of the stars in her head while she waited for John to join her.

He came to bed soon after, curling up beside her and pulling her into his arms.

"I'm so sorry, darling," he whispered, tracing her jaw line with lingering kisses. "I shouldn't have left Trudy in the dark about…"

"John," Alice sighed, rolling onto her side to face him. "I just don't want to talk about it. But please stop blaming yourself. It's no one's fault that I'm fucked up. No one's except my own."

Though he looked as though he wanted to argue, he didn't pursue the subject. Instead, he kissed her once, fiercely on the mouth.

"You're not fucked up, darling," he assured her. "I think you're perfect."

"I think your perception is warped."

"Maybe. But that's still no reason for you to feel less than perfect. I still love you regardless." He kissed her lightly. "Now, let's see if you remember all the constellations."

The next morning was difficult, to say the least. John had no desire to leave and took his sweet time packing up the car and taking extra care to make sure that Trudy was going to be okay after they left. She insisted she was fine, despite toting the small oxygen tank on a cart behind her, and gave them each a hug and a kiss as they got in the car.

For the first hour of their trip, John was quiet, disappointed that the pseudo-vacation had passed so quickly. After a while he perked up, to Alice's relief. They listened to John's favorite songs, Alice even singing along when he snuck a Lady Gaga song into the mix.

It soon became an incredibly enjoyable journey. They drove for hours, just the two of them, the desert highway, and the top rolled down so that they could enjoy the warm autumn day.

When they stopped for the night, Alice noticed she had a missed call from Heather. Fearing there was something wrong at the shop, she called back as soon as they checked into the room.

"Thank God you called back!" Heather sighed. "You're never going to guess what happened."

"What?" Alice asked, feeling a bit of panic prickle up her spine.

"Well," Heather said, audibly grinning, which set Alice at ease a bit. "Do you remember Brendan Kelly? The dude that was in the punk band-"

"The Lawrence Arms," Alice interrupted, more than familiar with the Chicago locals. "What about him?"

"You know he used to come into the store all the time?"

"Yeah. Heather, what's your point?"

"He called this morning wanting to know if we would want to sponsor a show he's doing at House of Blues."

"That's a big venue," Alice warily said. "How much does he want?"

"He said for two hundred we could have our name on the bill. It would be really good for business."

"I know," Alice groaned, trying to mentally figure out whether or not the store had the extra cash to fund the show. "I suppose we could do it."

"Good, because I already told him we would."

"You're such a shit Heather!"

Despite herself, Alice couldn't help laughing. It was just like Heather to make executive decisions without her.

"But you love Brendan!" Heather objected.

"I really do," Alice agreed. "That fucking new record of his…"

John tugged on her arm and motioned at the door. They had plans to get dinner and catch a movie as an attempt to savor the last few hours of their vacation.

"Thanks for calling to warn me," Alice sighed. "I think John and I are going to dinner, though, so I'll talk to you tomorrow. We should be home tomorrow night."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Heather agreed. "Bye."

Hanging up the phone, Alice turned to John.

"You like Brendan Kelly, right?" she inquired, beginning to lead him out the door.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I believe you've played me some of his music before. Why?"

"Because the shop is sponsoring one of his shows."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"It's going to be great for business. Not so great for my psyche. Come on, let's go to dinner before I start stressing too much about this."

Not needing to be told twice, John took her hand and started suggesting places to go for dinner.

Late the next night, they arrived back at Alice's apartment. It had been a long trip and they were both exhausted, but Alice was determined to unpack a bit before calling it a night.

As she wandered into the office to see what Heather had put on the next order, a book on the shelf caught her eye. The words "Norse Mythology" glinted in gold letters off the deep green book spine. It felt as though she were suddenly back in the Subway in New Mexico, the words of the strange blonde man ringing in her ears.

"She smells of Asgard…of Loki."

She still had no idea what it had meant, but she knew that the book held enough answers to give her an idea.

Plucking it from the shelf, she went to join John in bed.

When she arrived, he was reading as well. However, his book of choice was a biography about Vincent Van Gogh. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the book in her hands, but didn't question her.

"I told you I like Norse Mythology," she defended, slipping under the covers beside him.

"I did not question you, did I?"

"You gave me the look."

Rolling his eyes, John went back to his book.

Alice opened the book to the index, searching for the name Loki. It sounded so familiar, but it had been ages since she had read about Norse Mythos.

Finally, she found him. Loki, the Trickster God; she couldn't help being intrigued.

Over the next few weeks, neither John nor Alice really had time for each other. Yes, they made the effort to watch a movie together or play videogames in the evening, but it often ended in one of them getting distracted by work.

Between catching up at the shop and touching base with Brendan Kelly's "people", Alice felt she had a lot on her plate. However, John was the one who really felt behind.

Within the first week of being home, he had finished nearly eight pieces, all for different individuals. Then there was the call from the art institute about potentially featuring a few more of his pieces in their gallery. They wanted three rather large pieces, which would normally have taken him a few weeks each, in two weeks' time. Though he knew he could manage, it was left little time for anything else.

Finally the night of the concert rolled around, finally bringing something of an end to Alice's stress, and only adding to John's. He had promised he would attend the show with Alice, seeing as it meant a lot to her, but it also meant taking away from valuable work time. By this point, he had a mere three days to put the finishing touches on his work and make them decent enough to display in the museum.

Though he had agreed to meet Alice at the show early, he ended up being nearly an hour late, still trying to pick paint off his fingers. Alice met him outside, looking fantastic. She was wearing her favorite plaid skirt and a Ramones tank-top under her leather jacket. A pair of heeled combat boots complimented her fishnet stockings, making her look by far like the sexiest punk rocker he had ever seen. She offered him a chaste kiss and a half-hearted greeting, but her eyes betrayed her disappointment at his lateness.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I've just been so busy…"

"I know," she said shortly. "And it's…okay. But Brendan is going to be on any minute. We need to go."

She threw a backstage pass around his neck rather roughly and led him inside. The excitement he had felt at the chance to finally go backstage at a show was overshadowed by guilt.

Heather was waiting for them when they got backstage. A tall dark-haired man was standing next to her with his arm around her shoulders. When she noticed them, she jumped and waved a little, seeming to throw the guy off.

"You finally made it!" she yelled, attempting to be heard over the roar of the crowd as the man John could only assume to be Brendan Kelly swaggered onto the stage, followed by a man with a shaved head whom John recognized to be Dan Adriano, the other member of Brendan's side project.

"It appears that way," he smiled, glad that Heather didn't seem cross with him for his tardiness. He sincerely hoped that she would help defuse Alice as the night went on.

"Alice was getting antsy, but Erick and I have been keeping her occupied. Have you met Erick?"

"I don't believe so. Are you two-?"

"He's just her date," Alice explained as quietly as she could. "He's a bartender here and they've gone on a few dates, but I don't think she's that into him."

Trying his best not to snicker, John extended a hand and introduced himself. The music started, drowning out any chance for conversation they may have had. This seemed to brighten Alice considerably and soon she seemed to forget that she had ever been frustrated with him.

It turned out to be a great show and went off without a hitch. Brendan and his band played all of Alice's favorite songs and she and Heather sang every word. Much to his delight, Alice even danced with him a bit; ignoring the strange looks the roadies gave them. He considered taking her to concerts more often if this was how she always acted.

When they listened to music at home he could see the way she got caught up in it, but seeing it live was a completely new experience. It seemed to pick her up and whisk her away to a place of complete freedom. She let go of all inhibitions and got lost in the sound. It was beautiful to watch.

When the show was over, it seemed that it had gone too soon. A sweat-covered Brendan Kelly bounded offstage and right up to Alice, who was still clapping and cheering.

"Record store girl!" he grinned, giving her a high five. "How did you like the show?"

Alice looked surprised, but tried to hide it with a casual smile.

"It was fantastic!" she gushed. "I have to admit, I sang along to every song."

"Awesome! Who's your friend?"

"Oh! This is John, my boyfriend. Sweetheart, this is Brendan Kelly."

"I assumed," John grinned, taking the guitar player's sweaty hand and shaking it. "Pleasure to meet you. Alice hasn't stopped playing your record since she found out about the show."

"You've got a girl with excellent taste in music then. Lucky man!"

"I like to think so."

"If you guys aren't doing anything after the show, it would be great if you'd hang around in the VIP lounge with us. We could have some drinks and hang out for a bit."

"Of course! That sounds fun!"

Though initially John wanted to decline the invitation, Alice's expression had him reconsidering. It would be good for him to take a night off and relax. With a sigh, he nodded and agreed.

"Excellent!" Brendan smirked. "Follow me! First round is on the house!"

They made their way upstairs, Heather and Alice exchanging excited faces behind Brendan's back. John knew that both girls were rather crazy about both of the man's bands and being invited to have drinks with him was kind of a dream come true for both of them. Though John hadn't been particularly impressed by the man, whose breath already smelled of whiskey when he came offstage, he hoped a drink or two would help clear his mind of inhibitions.

The VIP lounge was admittedly impressive; there was a bar and lots of swanky leather furniture. The guitarist took a seat at the bar and Alice and Heather sat on either side of him. John took a seat beside Alice, draping an arm around her shoulders and waiting for the bartender to take their orders.

Right away Brendan ordered them each a shot of whiskey. They made a toast to the great show and the record shop and threw back the hard liquor. It had been a while since John had drank anything stronger than a glass of wine and the burn of whiskey was unfamiliar on his throat. Grimacing, he looked over at Alice, who had downed hers like a champ.

"Another!" she exclaimed gleefully, smiling like an idiot when the musician high fived her.

"I'll just have a Guiness," John decided.

Another round of drinks appeared on the bar and this time they toasted to love and happiness. Taking a swig of his beer, John watched Alice take another shot, this time making a bit of a face as it went down.

"You drink like a pro, girl," Brendan snickered. "But the real question is, can you out drink me?"

"If we switch over to beer, it is really likely," Alice giggled, making John feel a pang of jealousy at the way she looked at the musician.

He knew it meant nothing and he shouldn't suddenly feel so defensive, but watching her practically flirt with the other man hurt his masculinity a bit. Glancing over at Heather, he sensed that she must have noticed as well, as she was pointedly ignoring Alice and talking to Erick. Trying to ignore his ill feelings, John downed the rest of his drink and motioned for another.

It appeared shortly, just as three pints appeared in front of Alice and another three in front of Brendan.

"We'll start small," Brendan decided. "Whoever can drink all of theirs first wins. Loser has to pay for the next round."

"Deal," Alice said confidently.

On the count of three the two of them began drinking. It was rather impressive to watch, Alice keeping pace easily. One down, two down, and the third empty glass slammed down on the bar seconds before Brendan's did.

"Holy shit!" he laughed, resting a hand on Alice's shoulder. "That was fucking insane."

"What?" she challenged, obviously feeling more than a little tipsy by this point. "Haven't you ever seen a girl drink before?"

"Not like you do!"

"I'm just that fucking good."

"I'm sure you are!"

And then he did the unthinkable. Well, to John it seemed like the unthinkable. The smug bastard leaned over and placed a wet, sloppy kiss on Alice's cheek, his Alice's cheek. All attempts to swallow his jealous proved futile and he turned to them rigidly.

"What the fuck?" he growled, pushing away his empty glass.

"What's wrong, man?" the drunken guitarist asked, obviously oblivious to the fact he had done something wrong.

"You're what's wrong!" John exclaimed, practically jumping up from his seat. "What could have possibly made you think that was fucking okay?"

"What, man? It was just a little friendly kiss."

"There was nothing friendly about that, you moron!"

A shadow crossed Alice's face and she put what was meant to be a calming hand on his chest.

"John," she insisted. "It's fine. It didn't mean anything."

Her attempts to calm him had quite the opposite effect. It felt as if he was seeing red as he struggled to form a coherent reply. He felt like a man possessed and let out a frustrated growl.

"He fucking kissed you!" he yelled, slamming his fist down on the bar.

"I realize that," Alice spat. "But you're being irrational."

"Irrational? Irrational! You really think-"

"Yes! I do, actually!"

Balling his hands into fists, he shook his head and stormed out, knowing Alice would follow. Naturally, she didn't disappoint. The both of them wallowed in silent rage as they left the building and their confused friends behind, stepping out into the crisp Chicago night.

"You just have to ruin everything, don't you?" she growled, stepping to the curb and putting her hand out to hail a taxi.

"Ruin everything?" he repeated. "Alice, I… he…. He touched you. He kissed you. Do you understand how fucking out of line that was?"

"Not as out of line as you freaking the fuck out on him!" she shot back. "How does that fucking make me look when you act like this?"

"Make you look? Oh my GOD, DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO BE ABOUT YOU?"

He was screaming now, ignoring the looks the security guards were giving them.

"You're making everything about me!" she shrieked.

"No!" he raged, running agitated hands through his hair. "He fucking… put his hands on you. You. Are. Mine. Alice." He was in her face now, backing her into the brick wall behind her as he towered over her, eyes burning with anger. "I own you. And I don't like people touching my things."

She looked genuinely afraid for the briefest of moments, but that fear turned swiftly into rage. With a growl, she reeled back and slapped him hard across the face.

It felt suddenly as if a weight were lifted from his shoulders. His anger began to dwindle and fade, dropping him mercilessly back to reality.

"I-" he began, but she shook her head and cut him off.

"No," she panted. "Don't apologize. You meant everything you said. I hate to break it to you, but you don't own me John. I'm not some fucking trophy that you can display on a shelf. I'm a person; a fucking human being. I won't be treated like something less."

Backing away, John held up his hands as if surrendering.

"I know," he sighed, thumb and forefinger messaging the bridge of his nose. "I was being stupid."

A taxi pulled up to the curb and Alice slid inside. For a moment he debated joining her, but she left the door open and appeared to be waiting for him, so he slid in beside her.

The ride back to her apartment was awkward to say the least. Neither of them spoke, the tension between them practically tangible. The five minute ride felt more like hours and John practically sighed with relief when he saw the record shop out the window. He handed the driver and twenty and opened the door, Alice not saying a word as she slipped past him.

"I'll just assume you want me to go back to my place then," he groaned, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

Still not saying a word, she shook her head and motioned for him to follow her upstairs. Though nervous, he complied.

Once they were inside, she slammed the door and turned a fiery gaze at him.

"You embarrassed me, John," she said through gritted teeth, this time backing him up against the wall. For such a short woman, she was good at making herself seem tall and intimidating. "You embarrassed me not only in front of Heather, but Brendan fucking Kelly. The man who agreed to put the shop on the bill of his fucking sold out show just because he likes the place. I'm sorry that he kissed me on the fucking cheek like friendly people fucking do sometimes."

With a sigh, he shook his head.

"You don't understand," he objected. "It's not that he kissed you. Well…it is, but that's not all of it. It's the way he kissed you. That wasn't just a friendly kiss. That was a challenge."

"You're just an ego maniac!" she accused.

"No," he explained, trying to stay calm this time. "See this is a friendly kiss."

He pulled her toward him roughly and planted a chaste peck on her cheek.

"Okay?" he gritted out. "And this is a challenge."

This time he allowed the kiss to linger, taking care to make sure the taste of her skin lingered on his lips.

"Alright," she conceded. "So he was drunk and kissed my cheek like an idiot. It was still no reason for you to turn into an irrational jerk."

This deflated him a bit and he offered a nod to show he accepted her point. There was still fire in her eyes, but it seemed to dissipate a bit as she stared up at him.

Unable to stop himself, he brought his lips crashing against hers, wrapping her in his embrace and overpowering her body with his.

"And what sort of kiss is that?" she asked huskily, her anger now seeming gone.

"That is how an irrational jerk kisses you," he replied.

As they stared into each others eyes, he suddenly was overcome by lust. There was no room for anything else in his mind; no anger, no frustration, just the primal urge to fuck her senseless. She seemed to catch on, and brought her lips slamming against his. Backing her into the wall, he allowed his hands to travel up her thighs, pushing her skirt up. The stockings she was wearing ended suddenly, and he felt the lace of a garter belt. Letting out a ragged breath, he looked down at her, eyes burning with lust.

"Oh, you are naughty," he husked, pushing her skirt up further and running his fingers along her panty line. They were obviously lace, which only aroused him more.

Slowly he slid his hand beneath the material, feeling the wetness between her legs and rubbing a finger teasingly against her clit. The moan that escaped her was low and desperate, making him desperate for her.

"John," she said through gritted teeth. "I need you to fuck me."

"Don't you want to-?" he began, but she was apparently not in the mood to waste time.

"Right here," she interrupted, pushing her panties down and kicking them off. "Right now. Fuck me."

There was no room for debate in her tone. In one swift movement, she undid his belt and jeans and pushed them off, along with his boxers. His length sprang free and the feeling of her hand teasing him made him groan in pleasure. Pushing up her skirt, he grabbed her ass and lifted her up, entering her with one fierce thrust.

"Fuck," she screamed, bucking her hips so his length filled her completely.

"Fuck," he agreed, pinning her to the wall as he pounded into her relentlessly.

She was so hot and wet, her tightness gripping him with each thrust. This was the first time they had ever fucked like this. It was so primal, so angry, and just so fucking hot. In a short time, her first orgasm swept over her, the muscles in her tightening and spasming around him, her screams of pleasure filling the room. When it passed, her legs seemed to go a bit slack around his waist and he paused.

"Tired already?" he teased.

"Not a chance," she said mischievously, her voice low.

"Good."

Her legs tightened around him again and he resumed his exhausting pace.

"Do you know what you do to me?" he groaned, biting at her neck and receiving a gasp in return. "You driving me crazy, Alice."

With a little strangled cry, she started to again match his every thrust.

"You like that, do you?" he teased, suddenly slowing his pace.

He could tell she was near her second orgasm by the way she was gripping his shoulders. It was far more fun to tease her at this point, just to see what she would do. Whimpering, she bucked her hips, desperate for more.

"Not so fast," he whispered, nipping at her earlobe.

"Just fuck me," she whined, attempting to ride him, despite her submissive position.

"Tsk, tsk," he smirked. "So desperate."

Slowly, he entered her fully and then pulled back at the same excruciatingly slow pace. His muscles were beginning to ache from the position, but he was enjoying it too much to stop. With some effort, he maintained the slow pace, which only seemed to make her more anxious.

"Is this not satisfactory, darling?" he questioned, enjoying the growl of frustration that she let out.

"Stop playing around," she demanded. "Fuck. Me. Hard."

Grinning evilly, he slammed into her, making her cry out.

"Like that?"

"Yes!" she cried, and he did it again. "Faster."

She was getting demanding now, and he was enjoying it. Each word served as a reminder of how badly she needed him, making the kiss that he had found so threatening now seem silly in comparison. Gritting his teeth, he increased his pace, each thrust making a satisfying thud echo off the wall.

His climax neared and he dug his fingernails into the bottom of her thighs. They came at the same time, both panting and growling in mutual ecstasy, collapsing to the floor as the waves of pleasure slowly started to subside.

"Fuck," Alice sighed, rolling onto her back. "That was…crazy. We should have make-up sex more often."

He really couldn't help agreeing.