I couldn't believe my ears. It was Saturday and someone was knocking insistently on my door. I rolled over and gazed blearily at my cell phone. Six thirty in the morning?! Who had the nerve to bother me this early? I got up and shuffled to the door. Upon opening it, I found Paul Lock standing there, grinning mischievously. I was in misery because I'd never hurt so bad in my entire life. He was a vicious taskmaster, and I was somewhat lazy. I wasn't into exercise all that much.
"Oh, no you don't," I protested when I saw him slouched. Comfortably against my doorframe with his arms crossed. "It's Saturday. "That's my time."
"I just wanted to know if you were interested in going out for breakfast," Paul said coolly. He looked around my apartment with surprise. I have very eclectic tastes, and it throws people off, especially the Nordic items. When I emerged from the back, dressed and ready to go, he was fingering an old Nordic battle axe that I inherited from my parents.
"Family heirloom," I explained as I pulled on my Skechers. I like pull-ons. They're comfy and easy to put on. That was especially important today, considering how badly I was hurting. I'd been training with Paul for two weeks and he'd been increasing the intensity of my workouts steadily. Between that and sitting most of the day, I was sunk. I staggered into the living room and looked at him, feeling abysmal.
"Ready to go?" Paul said brightly. Good lord, he reminded me briefly of Thor when he was in a really good mood.
"If I had my taser right now, you would be so dead," I hissed at him, clutching my purse and cramming my favorite beanie on my head.
"Tsk Tsk, such violence, dear," Paul said mockingly. "Who have you tasered before? I don't believe you."
"Oh, believe it. I tasered Thor," I said with smug satisfaction. "I knocked him unconscious, too."
"I'm impressed," Paul said with a snicker as he led her outside. "What did he do to get the royal shock treatment?"
"He freaked me out," I said casually. But I wasn't casual for long. Sitting at the curb was an actual sleek, black Maserati. "Isn't that a little outside of a teacher's salary range?"
"I made some very good investments a number of years ago," Paul told me smugly. He opened the door so I could fall into the seat. The wonderful smell of leather enveloped me, and I petted the leather a bit.
"I take it you appreciate my taste in automobiles," he said as we raced into the flow of traffic.
"It'll do," I admitted politely. We ate at the swankiest restaurant in town, where he plied me with lots of sangria. I lost count of the bottles, and at one point, laughed.
"What's so funny?" He asked defensively, setting the bottle down amid a fresh fruit plate and cottage cheese.
"You. You're trying to get me drunk, but it's not going to work," I told him proudly. "I don't think I've ever been drunk a day in my life. I can't get drunk."
"Really," Paul said, surveying the damage done to their meal. He had an incredulous look on his face, as if he couldn't believe how much I had consumed. "I like a woman with a hearty appetite."
"I can really pack it away," I said, blushing a bit. "Jane was always teasing me that I ate almost as much as Thor. Which I doubt very much."
"Me too," Paul agreed. He looked around at the remains and reached for the check.
I opened my mouth to say something and accidentally cracked a huge belch worthy of Thor. Paul looked at me, grinned, and broke down in helpless laughter. "Oh, a belch worthy of an Asgardian!"
"I have a hard time seeing Lady Sif doing that," I said slyly. My instincts were proving correct. This man could only be one person. I knew he looked all blond and blue eyed, but I felt like this was none other than Loki.
He didn't realize the trap I was setting for him. "Don't be fooled. She's as rough and tumble as any…" His words trailed off as he realized what he was saying and looked at me with huge blue eyes.
"I prefer green eyes," I told him mischievously as I sipped another sangria. "Black hair, too."
"I don't to know what you're referencing," Paul/Loki said primly. I realized he was not going to budge on the matter and internally ground my teeth. Damnation but he was nearly as stubborn as I was.
"Just voicing my opinion on my likes and dislikes," I said coolly, regaining my footing.
"So, Thor doesn't do it for you," he stated, satisfied. He sat back and sipped his Sangria.
"No, Thor doesn't 'do' it for me. He's a bit dense for my tastes. Chivalrous, but dense. Give him his hammer and axe and he's brilliant, though." I chuckled at my own pun and Paul made a face at me.
"As far as puns go, that wasn't bad. What's your favorite nickname for him? The absolute favorite thing he's ever been called," he asked me.
"No contest. Point Break," I laughed. He looked puzzled and I rolled my eyes. "You've never seen the movie Point Break, I take it? It's the hair. You ought to watch it sometime."
He took that as an open invitation. That evening, Paul showed up with the movie, popcorn and a bottle of sangria. "I thought you might want to watch it with me," he suggested smoothly. "Movies are no fun on your own."
"Oh, I agree," I said in amusement. How often do you get an invite like that? We curled up on my futon and basked in the electronic glow of my television. All the lights in the house were off.
"Not a bad movie," Paul admitted. "I can see why Stark called him Point Break, too. It's definitely the hair." He got up and got a drink of water, then came back with a look of disgust on his face. "Darcy, how can you be so strong eating frozen dinners all the time? Do you cook at all?"
I blushed. My Achilles heel was culinary in nature. "I can make scrambled eggs and spaghetti, and a few nordic dishes min mamma taught me how to make. I love frikadiller but it's an acquired taste."
"If you can make frikadi, you can cook," Paul said stubbornly. "I'm taking you grocery shopping tomorrow. You need to start eating better."
The following week proved to be momentous. First, Thor caused me to be late to class, something Paul did not tolerate in the least. I was put on punching bags for the remainder of the class.
The following day was even worse. I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business when I felt a breeze come out of nowhere. It ruffled my hair, and I thought I heard a horse nicker softly. 'You're imagining things, Darcy. Just ignore it." I focused on eating my sandwich when something nibbled my hair. I could feel hot breath on my neck, and I slowly turned. I was face to nose with a beautiful chestnut horse, the one from. By the time I recovered from my shock, he had been joined by a roan. They jostled each other for a bite of my apple. Stunned, I wondered what to do. This was the biggest thing I'd ever magicked before, and it was best if Col Fury and Agent Coulson didn't get wind of this. I took both horses by the bridles and began to lead them out of the office when I ran into the last person I wanted to see.
"What is this, little one?" Thor stepped into the now crowded space. Great. How was I going to extricate myself from this predicament?
"Would you believe they just showed up out of the blue?" I asked wildly. The roan neighed wildly and made a lunge for him, practically dragging me down. I planted my feet and pulled back, but Thor took the reins and laughed delightedly.
"Storm-breaker! My old friend! How did you come here!" He listened to the soft whicker from the horse. "Magic, is it? I thought as much." He started to lead Storm-Breaker away, through the hallway and outside. I started to mount the chestnut when he laughed.
"Var is much too big for you to mount in here," Thor said in amusement. "Wait until we are outside."
I couldn't help myself. I stuck my tongue out at him when his back was turned, then made a running leap, using the wall for leverage and seated myself cozily on the big war horse. He turned at the unexpected noise and raised his eyebrows.
"As you were saying? Let's get out of here before Col. Fury finds out." I massaged Var's ears. "No road apples in the building please."
Both the horses and Thor laughed at that. "You're impossible."
We clopped along at a reasonable pace until we passed by the training facilities. I had a hard time holding the reins because Var suddenly raised his head, snorted, and stamped his hooves. He neighed wildly and raised up on his back legs. It's fortunate that I'm a good rider. My father told me our people are all good horseback riders. It's why he taught me to ride from an early age.
Then he saw the open door, and I could tell from the sudden tension in the reins that he was about to bolt. Thor had already passed through; Var had been calm as long as he could see Storm's pricked ears. I wasn't strong enough to hold a fully trained battle horse.
I heard the gym door open, but my attention was where it should have been; on controlling the horse.
I felt someone heavy land behind me, and rough hands took the reins from me. I dimly heard Paul shout "Var! Gee up!" Var settled into an easy trot and emerged into the bright sunlight. 'From darkness to light' I thought as I looked back at Paul.