Chapter Text
Sif waved good morning to the receptionist as she put her coat and purse on the conveyor belt. She tried not to feel anxiety as she watched her phone go through the x-ray machine, but if Loki actually called, which he had yet to do, she could just answer it on the other side of the metal detector.
She’d been in Vanaheim for almost a week now, visiting Heimdall for the holidays. After the blow-up with Loki, Sif figured he would need some space… Fine, that wasn’t true. She knew if she didn’t leave town, she wouldn’t give him the space he might need, so it was better for her to be several hundred miles away where she couldn’t give in to the urge to find his house and knock on his door until he opened it and kissed her.
The security man waved her through, only grunting in response to her cheery greeting. Collecting her things, Sif pointlessly checked her phone again (of course he hadn’t called) and went to find Heimdall’s room.
She hadn’t told her brother she was coming for a visit so he couldn’t tell her no. Their first day together had been full of uncomfortable silences and unspoken words, but since then they’d struck up a slightly less uncomfortable acquaintanceship. How sad, Sif thought, that she had a better relationship with her twenty-year-old roommate than with her 30-year-old brother.
Not that Darcy was in Sif’s good books at the moment. The scamp dropped her Greek Lit class two weeks into the semester and never told Sif because “I kinda shipped you and the broody man,” which, while Sif theoretically appreciated the sentiment, was also kind of insulting. Besides the fact that she was still dating Haldor at the time, asking Sif to attend a class Darcy wasn’t even taking was low.
Of course, on the flip side, if this relationship actually blossomed, Sif supposed she might owe Darcy, since she never would have met Loki without Darcy’s intervention.
She checked her phone again.
“A watched pot never boils,” Heimdall said. Sif looked up; she hadn’t realized she was at his room already.
“I’m not watching it,” Sif said, putting her phone on silent and dropping it in her purse.
“Uh-huh,” Heimdall said, unconvinced. “Just call him. You’ve always been a go-getter.”
“But I don’t have his number,” Sif said, “so the ball is in his court.”
“And if he doesn’t call or text before you go home?”
Sif shrugged. “I’ll track down his address, show up on his door, and become a decorative plant until he talks to me.”
Heimdall moved out of the doorway, allowing Sif entrance. His room was tiny and sparse: a bed, a dresser, a small desk. Heimdall claimed he didn’t need more as he didn’t own more, but it still made Sif sad to see her brother with so little. She needed to check if the halfway house had limitations on personal possessions, because she was going to spend what little money she had on sprucing up her brother’s life just a bit.
The halfway house had been good for Heimdall. He’d tried rehab before, forced into it by Sif or her parents, but this time he’d asked if he could go, and told Sif which program he wanted. In addition to the rehab, the program provided transition into the halfway house before transitioning back into normal life. The program was pricey, but it had a high success rate. Normally Sif wouldn’t have agreed to pay for it, but the fact that Heimdall came to her indicated he actually wanted it to stick this time. Seeing him clean still surprised her; she hadn’t seen him sober in close to fifteen years.
Sitting at the foot of Heimdall’s carefully made bed, Sif patted the mattress beside her. Heimdall was still uncomfortable with physical proximity, but he’d condescended to sit on the opposite side of the bed yesterday. He glanced disdainfully at her side and moved to the head of the bed. Well, it had been a long shot.
“So what did you do with Mom and Dad’s fortune?”
Sif looked at him askance. “You mean the fortune that paid for all your legal fees?”
He nodded. “That’s what I thought. I owe you a lot of money.”
True, if Sif was counting on payback, but that involved tying strings of obligation she didn’t want. When Heimdall felt obligated, he bolted in the opposite direction as quickly as possible. “You owe me a lot of phone calls,” she said, “or letters, if talking to me so much tires you out.”
“I owe you a lot of money,” he repeated, and she shook her head.
“No, you don’t.”
“I do. Maybe I’ll get a real job and save it all up to send your kid to college.”
Patting her stomach, Sif said, “Sure. My invisible kid will love that.” They both smiled. She hoped one day Heimdall would have a niece or nephew to love, and was kind of touched that he thought it might happen.
“It could be a real kid if you call that man.” Grabbing her coat, she threw it at his grinning face. “Tell me about him.”
“No. There’s nothing to tell.”
“You keep checking your phone, so I think there’s something to tell.”
“I keep checking my phone because I’m a product of the technology age and can’t go five minutes without it.”
“We grew up in a forest. Excuse invalid.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m a product of the technology age now.”
“You never cared if Haldor called you.”
Not much she could say in defense there.
“Tell me about him,” Heimdall repeated. “Would I like him?”
Good question. “You’re both difficult to deal with, so you’ll either love each other or hate each other,” Sif said. “It could be a volatile relationship.”
“But we both love you.”
She wished. “You love me.”
“If he doesn’t love you, leave him. A pumpkin spice latte is a better companion.”
She smiled, looking down at the blue-striped bedspread. “That’s true of an established relationship. Loki and I haven’t even had a date yet.” Unless she counted all the time spent together during office hours, but if she counted those as dates, she’d have to consider every student meeting he had as a date, and Sif didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole.
“Then go secure a date,” Heimdall said.
“What, now?”
“Not now. After you leave.”
“You want me to fly back home and ask Loki on a date?”
“No, call him.”
“Again, I don’t have his number.”
“Internet stalk him. You can find everything that way.”
Sif peered distrustingly at Heimdall. “Are you trying to get rid of me so I don’t come visit you again?”
He shrugged. “That would be nefarious of me. Christmas is tomorrow.”
“Wouldn’t put it past you.”
“Use that smartphone of yours and call him. I’m tired of you looking at your phone every two seconds.”
“I haven’t looked at my phone once since I got here!” She wanted to, though, and was itching to pull it out.
“Sif.”
“Heimdall.”
“Go home. I’ll still be here once you’ve secured his hand.”
Sif imagined taking Loki as her prize for a battle won, and couldn’t stop the grin from stretching her lips. He’d probably consider it a great honor to have been so claimed, especially if he thought of himself as Briseis and Sif as Achilles. It would be his dream come true, to be claimed by what he considered the greatest demigod of all time.
“If you ever smiled like that over Haldor, I would have told you to marry him.”
This time Sif threw her purse. “It’s too soon to be talking marriage!”
“Mm-hmm.”
Redirecting the conversation, Sif spent the rest of her visit peppering Heimdall with so many questions about rehab he didn’t have time to say suggestive things about Loki, though as she was putting on her coat to leave, he admonished her once more to go home. “We haven’t spent Christmas together for more than ten years. I think I’ll survive.”
The thought plagued her all the way back to her Airbnb. Loki clearly wasn’t going to call, but was that because he was done with her, or…? That was half the problem--there were so many possible ors that could go there. Or he was in a car accident and died while she was away. Or he was a coward and didn’t know how to make the first move. Or he washed his hand without thinking and didn’t have her number anymore. Or he had called, repeatedly, but she wrote the wrong number in the first place so it didn’t matter.
Or, or, or, or.
Regardless of what he was feeling, Sif missed him. It had been months since she’d gone so long without seeing him, and she was finding she didn’t like it. She wanted to see him every day, wanted to argue with him over fictional characters and then discuss everything under the sun. She wanted to see his stupid scowl, and, yes, she wanted to kiss him.
Slumping against the door, Sif remembered the fiancée. That was a topic they hadn’t discussed yet; was Loki even ready for a relationship? He’d better be. She was going to be crushed if he wasn’t.
Heimdall had a point; Christmas wasn’t a holiday they spent together, and there would be many more Christmases they could enjoy once he was let out of proverbial house arrest. Maybe she ought to chase her own dreams for once. And if Loki didn’t want her or wasn't ready for her? Well, better to know before Christmas.
Calling the airline, Sif arranged to take an earlier flight home while she packed, then called the halfway house and told Heimdall she was taking his advice for the first time ever. He didn’t say much, probably smiling quietly, but Sif could feel his approval through the phone. Darcy agreed to pick Sif up at the airport, and with everything arranged, the only thing she had left to do was wait.
If this was a movie, she’d plan an elaborate meetup, find some way to show up with balloons and flowers and candles (or maybe ancient Greek artifacts, spears, and bits of armor, to appease Loki’s love of Greek literature). If it was a movie, there was also a 50% chance they’d miss each other because he would have found out where she went and chased her down, and after a crazy mix-up, they’d meet halfway in an airport and share a kiss set to swelling music.
As it was, she was hoping he wanted to see her at all, forget anything else. Mild interest, that’s what she was aiming for. She could work with that.
She flew through airport security and paced in front of the gate, trying to work away her nervous energy before she got trapped in the middle seat on the plane. The thing causing her the most anxiety was putting her phone on airplane mode in-flight. What if he called while she was 10,000 feet in the air? It wasn’t likely, as he had yet to call, but it would be just her luck.
Her phone did ring just after she took her seat. Fumbling, Sif hurried to answer without checking who it was, and was disappointed when it was just a telemarketer who ended up treated to a taste of her temper. Turning off her phone, Sif swore she wouldn’t obsess the whole flight. (She did, but she was becoming quite accomplished at lying to herself.)
To her surprise, it wasn’t Darcy who met Sif at the airport, but Thor, holding a large sign with SIF written in bubble letters, surrounded by hearts, and grinning so hard Sif gave a matching grin.
“Sif!” Thor cried, wrapping her in a hug and crushing her just a little.
“Oof,” Sif said, pushing back from the chest press masquerading as Thor’s arms. “Where’s Darcy?”
“Jane ran off with her shouting about science.”
“I thought Darcy’s internship was over.”
Thor shrugged. “It might be, but I think Darcy adopted Jane, so I doubt she’s going anywhere anytime soon.” Sif wasn’t surprised; Darcy did have a habit of adopting 30-something misfits who needed looking after.
Thor took Sif’s bag, cutting off a protest by reminding her that he had a duty to the women of the world to show off his biceps. Sif laughed and let him carry her bag, because he was right about that duty. Jane was a lucky woman.
Once in the car, it was about an hour and a half drive to home, giving Sif ample opportunity to interrogate Thor. “I have a question,” she said.
“Yes, my brother is in love with you, so whatever you’ve got planned is going to go over well.”
Sif flushed from tip to toe. “That was not my question!” she said hotly. “...But I’m glad to know because that makes me a whole lot less nervous.”
Thor grinned at her. “I knew you had the hots for him the first time I met you.”
“You and Darcy spend way too much time together.”
“Probably true.”
Sif took a deep breath. “I want to know about the fiancée.”
Thor paused, face scrunching up. “Fiancée?”
“The one who broke Loki’s heart?”
“Ohhh, you mean Sigyn! I thought you were asking about Jane.”
“You’re engaged?”
“Not yet, which is why I was confused.” He couldn’t possibly be thinking of proposing already, but then, maybe when you knew, you knew. In any event, Sif had a more pressing problem.
“So? Fiancée?” she asked.
Thor shrugged. “It was a long time ago, maybe five years? They dated in high school, broke up for college, then got back together before grad school. They were engaged for a year before Sigyn broke it off, something about not wanting to share Loki with his books.”
Tapping her ear, Sif said, “Excuse me? Did you say five years ago?”
“Yeah, why?”
Who the hell still talked about their ex-fiancée five years later? “Is he still not over her?” she demanded, rethinking her mad plan.
“She’s old news. I haven’t heard Loki talk about her in years. Why are you bringing her up?”
“Everyone knows cranky Dr. Odinson is still reeling from heartbreak due to a broken engagement. It was the first thing Darcy said to me when she asked me to take notes for her.”
Thor threw his head back and laughed. “That ruddy blighter,” he exclaimed. “He used to complain all the time about the undergrads hitting on him. Guess now I know how he started keeping them at bay.” He shook his head. “It’s effective, if the students are still spreading the rumor for him.”
Folding her arms, Sif scowled at the road. “Five years,” she muttered. “Five years! Did you know I wanted to ask your brother out forever ago, but didn’t out of respect for his five year old heartbreak? If I had known, I would have asked him to dinner months ago!”
Thor laughed again, the warm sound filling the car. “My brother is his own worst enemy,” he said fondly. “Serves him right. You not actually a student, him not suffering from heartbreak. You could have been dating all this time if you’d just had an honest conversation.”
“I did not think it appropriate to step on any toes when I didn’t know how fresh the heartbreak was,” Sif said.
“And he didn’t think it appropriate to date a student.”
Damn ethical dilemmas. If Loki wasn’t one of those men who followed the rules, they could have been making out on her couch months ago. Though she supposed she should be grateful he was considerate of authority positions and didn’t abuse his power. And she would be grateful, after she had secured him and was busy making out with him on said couch. Right now, she was just irritated.
“Stupid ethical dingbat,” she muttered, making Thor laugh yet again.
When they were twenty minutes from home, Thor turned serious. “You are interested in him, yeah? Because he thinks you’re the cleverest thing to walk into his life, and he won’t handle it well if you tell him he’s too into his books and ancient dead heroes.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing our entire relationship is based on discussing those dead heroes,” Sif told him. “Did you know I haven’t read a classic since high school? Swore them off after my English teacher foisted Dickens on us. Man needed a serious editor. And now I’ve not only read several ancient classics, I actually spent good money on them. Your brother’s a hazard to my health.”
“Your kids are going to be too clever for their own good.”
“Says the man who wants to marry a physics PhD.”
“Hah! You didn’t flinch when I said kids! You really do want to have smarmy professor babies.”
Again, Sif blushed all over. “Shut up,” she said, lacking a better comeback. If her kids were little geniuses, it certainly wouldn’t be her fault.
She tried to direct Thor to Loki’s house, but the man insisted on dropping by her place first to drop off her things. Sif must really be off her game, because it took her entirely too long realize why. She had the front door open and was tossing her bag over the threshold before she saw Loki sitting on her couch and connected the dots. “Why didn’t you call me?” she demanded instead of saying something romantic like I love you or want to grab a bite? or take me, I’m yours.
“I felt a conversation of this magnitude was best delivered in person,” Loki said, his stupid velvet voice ruining any frustration she felt.
“Then deliver it.”
“You, out.” It took Sif a moment realize Loki was talking to Thor who was still standing behind her. The blonde brother winked lasciviously at them and made a quick exit. Sif turned back around to find Loki had moved much closer, her pulse spiking at his presence. “After you left my office, I went home and fell asleep angry. But when I woke, I couldn’t remember why. Granted, that was in large part due to the massive hangover I had, but that aside, I called myself ten kinds of stupid for having you in my hand and letting you walk away.”
Sif was sure there was a grand story to follow, but finding she was impatient, she stepped forward and pressed her lips to Loki’s. She had been waiting ever so long to do that. Loki returned the kiss for a moment before pulling back. “I have a whole speech prepared, don’t interrupt me,” he said, so Sif promptly interrupted him again. He didn’t seem to mind.
When they parted, Sif smiled demurely at him and said, “I have a lovely couch, you know.”
“Absolutely not,” Loki said. “I have been rehearsing this speech for a week, and you are going to stand there and listen to it.”
“And then we move to the couch?” she asked hopefully.
“Speech first.” With a smile, Sif stepped back, clasping her hands behind her back to prevent any further interrupting. Loki cleared his throat, and Sif noticed his hair looked delightfully mussed. “Where was I?”
“About to tell me why you didn’t call.”
“I wanted to do this in person, so I hunted down your address and showed up on your doorstep with flowers, only to find you’d left town.” Curse her desire to reconnect with her brother; if Sif had stayed, she could have been making out with Loki on her couch all week long. “My anger was misdirected. I wasn’t upset you weren’t a student; I was upset because if I’d known, I’d have asked you out much sooner.”
“I did tell you, repeatedly,” she reminded him.
His lips curled up ever so slightly. “And I didn’t believe you.”
“We’re going to have to work on that.” The look in his eyes said there were other things he’d rather work on, and Sif flushed again. It was her turn to clear her throat. “Before we get on that, I have a confession.” His look turned wary, and Sif fought the urge to kiss his fears away. “I would have asked you out months ago, but rumor had it you were reeling from a broken engagement.”
“Ah. I usually find that story works in my favor. Still, you could have just asked.”
“Thought about it, but that whole eraser throwing incident made me think twice about doing so.”
Loki sighed dramatically. “Again, that usually works in my favor.”
“How often do you throw erasers at students?!”
“About once a semester, when one of the dunderheads gathers the courage to ask.”
“How have you not gotten fired yet?”
“I am extremely good at my job.” She couldn't argue with that; it was his competence, after all, that drew her back week after week and convinced her to finish his required reading list.
Her brows furrowed. “Wait, are you telling me you haven’t dated anyone since you broke up with your fiancée?”
“I am not a serial dater. I prefer to devote my time and talents only to those worthy of my attentions.”
That brought on a pleasant tingle. Sif liked being worthy of his attentions, and liked that she was one of a few. “Well, I dated a lunkhead for years, so you’re also on a short list.” His smile widened as he moved closer, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. “And for the record, Darcy lied to you when she said I had a hard time getting over Haldor. That happened about five minutes after we parted ways because I was too busy thinking about you.”
He huffed a laugh. “I knew you were awake for that conversation.”
Sif shrugged and murmured, “What can I say? I find you entirely too distracting.”
This time Loki initiated the kiss, and Sif melted into him. They moved to the couch; it was every bit as heavenly as she’d predicted.
*
Jane and Thor got engaged on Christmas. They planned a massive church wedding for June, but only lasted three weeks before eloping. Loki and Sif were invited to attend, conditional upon promising to shut up about classic literature. Loki pouted the whole way to the courthouse, but Sif kissed him into compliance, so he was all smiles for the short ceremony.
Once all the paperwork was signed, Thor suggested Sif and Loki could make it a double wedding, an idea they soundly rejected. Sif wasn’t getting married without Heimdall present, not to mention three weeks of dating wasn’t nearly enough. Still, the idea of eventually marrying Loki gave her the warm tinglies, and she couldn’t quite wipe away the smile on her face.
Darcy, of course, claimed credit for their relationship. Publicly Sif scorned the notion, but privately she agreed and cut Darcy’s utilities bill in half to show her gratitude. However, since Sif had also doubled the utilities in punishment for Darcy dropping Loki's class without telling Sif, it all evened out to nothing.
Loki and Heimdall hated each other almost instantly, but they never ran out of things to argue about, which in Loki-speak was almost as good as an I love you. Despite the fact that they fought nonstop, they actively searched each other out to do so. It warmed Sif’s heart.
Sif and Loki spent half their time together reading and discussing literature. If they ever ran out of things to say, they fell back to their age-old argument about Achilles’ role as a hero in The Iliad. Loki, who had more experience arguing Achilles’ merits, would have won every argument, but when he got too full of himself or too close to proving Sif wrong, she shut him up with a kiss. It worked every time.