Darcy Lynn came into class earlier than normal today; I was training a new class of Asgardians to replenish the seriously depleted Asgardian army. When I say depleted, I mean next to nothing. There were maybe three or four soldiers left. I still haven't let anyone know that I am alive. How do I tell Thor that I somehow managed to survive Thanos? I'm still not exactly sure how I did it myself. Anyway, I took on the surname Lock. Anyone who knows Norwegian knows that Loki means Lock. There were only a few minutes left, and Colonel Fury came to the door to ask a question of me. The students wandered over and were looking at a collection of earth-made knives and various blades.

"They're so flimsy," Astrid said in wonder. "I can't believe how badly they hurt each other with them. "These humans are so incredibly fragile." She hefted the blade. "Look how puny and thin it is."

"This one is a little better," Halvor said, hefting a chunky boar-hunting blade. "What is it used for? Something big, I imagine."

I watched as Darcy came over to look, an interested expression on her face. "Oh, this is used for boar hunting. You might like the sport of boar hunting. Boars are pretty intelligent animals and they can get vicious. They root around and are pretty destructive, a little like bilgesnipes, except they have tusks."

There was a lot of interest in the boar hunting information and soon she was surrounded by my students. Suddenly, I heard a commotion. "You idiot! You just stabbed Darcy with the boar knife!"

I flew across the gymnasium expecting to find blood and mangled flesh. Instead, Darcy stood erect, a highly pissed look on her face. "Ok, PUT the blade AWAY if you can't control it any better than that. Now I have a boar knife to replace!"

Halvor stood with his mouth open, a stupid expression on his face and a mangled blade in his hand. "But…but Darcy! You're one of US!"

"Shut up, Sherlock," she hissed. "I've flown under the radar for thirty years now." She stopped and I could see her mentally calculating. "Actually, twenty nine years, six months and two days. But who's counting?"

"Obviously you are," I said dryly. "It's not a wonder that you don't get drunk." The Asgardians left, murmuring among themselves about how they couldn't wait to party with Darcy. I myself couldn't wait to get her alone.

"I didn't realize," she said after everyone left, palms turned up in disbelief. "I mean, I knew I was different, but I didn't realize I was that different. I just thought I was unique, you know? The Mistress of Mayhem, all that jazz."

I nearly choked. "The Mistress of Mayhem?" Then I remembered her little tale about the lemmings, and it all made sense. "You summoned them, didn't you? And you didn't even realize what you were doing. Oh, Darcy dear, you are very, very dangerous. I wish I had my mother to consult."

"Yes, Loki?" She looked at me with those cool blue eyes, and I very nearly dropped my disguise, but I stopped myself. There was no need to stir up more trouble. "You don't need to hide from me. I know who you are. I know the truth."

"Darling Darcy, you are mistaken. I am Paul Lock, your instructor. I am nothing special," I began, but she rudely interrupted.

"I know what Loki means. It means Lock. Your last name? Lock? Give me a break."

I decided on a new tactic. To shut her up, I reached over and kissed her softly on the lips. What a gigantic mistake that was. I felt as if I were melting. My eyes flew open, and she looked stunned. When I went to pull away, she grabbed me and kissed me greedily as if she'd never kissed anyone before in her life. I knew then that I was well and truly sunk.