Chapter Text
“Hey, Loki?” Verity’s on minute three of staring blankly at the information she’s supposed to be fact checking because, frankly, work doesn’t seem as important after dying, witnessing an apocalypse, and getting put back in your body.
Phone in hand, sprawled out on the couch, Loki replies, “Uh-huh?”
“So I’ve been thinking, and you kind of owe me for, like, killing me--”
“I put you back in your physical body very carefully.” (Not a lie)
“--And for crashing at my place for the past couple of months--”
“You’re the one who told me I couldn’t just magic up another apartment!” (Also not a lie)
Verity sighs, “You’re trying to lay low, remember? Anyway, since you probably owe me by now, I need a favor.”
“Which is?” Loki sits up, looking distinctly interested for the first time in the conversation.
“You need to pretend to date me so I can get my mom to stop signing me up for speed dating, and singles mixers, and profiles on dating websites,” Verity slams her laptop shut with an exasperated sigh for emphasis, “I don’t need her to set me up with someone! Everything’s fine the way it is!” (She thinks it’s true)
“Yeah, sounds good,” Loki flashes her an off-kilter grin, not quite a smirk but never really a smile either.
“Really? I thought I’d have to do a lot more to convince you…”
“Of course not! You’re my friend--” he’s cut short by a piercing look from Verity, before rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “And, it could be fun.”
“Good,” Verity sets the laptop down on the coffee table and stands up, stretching her arms, “Cos she’s expecting us over for dinner tonight.”
The statement doesn’t immediately sink in; Loki stays still, mouth opening and shutting like he doesn’t know what to say as Verity revels in the fact that she’s just rendered the God of Stories speechless.
“Wait, wait, wait, tonight? ”
Verity shrugs, giving a half smirk dressed up as an innocent smile, “I had a feeling you’d say yes.”
Loki recovers, wide eyes falling back to their usual almost half closed state, “I have to admit, I’ve been teaching you well.”
“Don’t brag, babe ,” Verity drops the pretense of an innocent smile entirely this time, instead settling on a very blatant smirk.
Loki freezes in place, face flushed red, before shaking his head in an attempt to shake the embarrassment away, “ Very tricky, Verity, but what am I supposed to do? She’s your mother! ”
“Just be yourself!”
“That’s horrible advice and you know it,” Loki groans, dragging his hands down his face.
“She’s used to weird stuff, she had to deal with little 5 year old me telling all the kids in my class that Santa isn’t real, he’s just our parents. I almost started a riot at kindergarten and she got so many angry calls from parents that I had to be homeschooled for three years.”
Loki looks at her from between his fingers, “That’s actually really funny.”
“Now come on, let’s get dressed because we have a bit of a drive to get there.”
“Fine, ” Loki sighs, trailing after Verity, “But I’m taking one of your shirts.”
“Get your own shirt, asshole,” she turns back, punching him playfully in the arm.
“I only have one shirt.” (Unfortunately, not a lie.)
“You only-- what?! ”
“I only have one shirt and it’s the one I’m wearing right now,” he throws his hands up like he’s ready to block a (hopefully only verbal) attack, “Don’t look at me like that! I wash it!” (Technically true, even if he doesn’t wash it nearly often enough.)
“We’re going to Goodwill tomorrow,” Verity sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger.
Loki follows after her into the bedroom, letting Verity dig through her closet while he flops backwards on the bed.
“I don’t have anything green.”
“That’s fine, just give me something that looks nice.”
“Catch,” Verity leans out of the closet, tossing a loose pink shirt embellished with black sequins, “She bought me that but I never wore it. You seem like a sequins kind of person, though.”
“I do love sequins,” Loki agrees, then, worrying his lip, he adds, “Is your mother expecting a boyfriend or a girlfriend?”
Verity laughs, “Since when have you cared what people expect?”
Loki very pointedly avoids her gaze, a truth in and of itself.
“Be whoever you’re most comfortable with. I was gonna introduce you as both anyway. Like I would. If we were dating. But we’re not.”
“Okay,” Loki says, pausing only to pull his shirt over his head and pull on Verity’s, “Question one: will your mother care if I’m wearing a bra, because fuck that. Midgardians can be so uptight. And question two: will you braid my hair?”
“Loki,” Verity gives her a small, but very deliberate smile, “My mom’s just gonna be happy that I’m “not” chronically single anymore. And I will braid your hair for you, just wait a sec.”
Loki stands in front of the mirror on the back of Verity’s closet door; she’s a bit taller than Verity and decidedly more lanky so the shirt is slowly but steadily approaching crop top territory, not that she really minds. It works wonders for showing off just how bony she is, all sharp angles and not really very fun to hug.
“Are you gonna stare at yourself all day, or are you gonna get ready so we can leave?” Verity calls out from the closet.
“It’s missing something,” Loki mutters, digging through the set of drawers that’s become basically hers now, “And I know exactly what it’s missing.”
Verity groans, “Please don’t use magic to dye my shirt green. Or to add more sequins. There’s enough already.”
“I wasn’t going to do that, but now that you mention it…”
Verity steps into the bedroom proper, hands on hips, “Don’t.”
“I kid, I kid,” Loki assures her, “I’m talking about these!”
She turns back to Verity, arms outstretched to show off a plethora of golden bracelets, nestled in the middle amongst the woven golden bands and thick bangles is a looped length of cord with a single blue bead.
“Please don’t wear the bracelet you put my soul in when you’re eating dinner with my mom.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just,” Verity clenches her hands into fists before opening them back up and gesturing emphatically, “ WEIRD!”
“Fine,” Loki sighs, unlooping it from her wrist and tucking it back into the top drawer, taking out a thin chain necklace with a pale pink heart-shaped pendant, “Now turn around so I can put this on you.”
“This won’t steal my soul, will it?”
“It won’t not steal your soul,” Loki shrugs, “But it only does what I tell it to. Which is currently to look pretty when my fake girlfriend is wearing it.”
“Fine,” Verity turns around, lifting up her hair as Loki walks over, “But only because this’ll help sell it.”
The only sound in the room is her own breathing and the gentle clink of bracelets sliding down Loki’s arms; Verity can feel the coldness of Loki’s hands not quite touching the back of her neck as she hooks the clasp on the necklace.
“This won’t, like, enchant my mom or anything, will it?”
Loki laughs, “No, it won’t. You told me to be myself, right? That means no magic to make your mother like me. I’ll just have to win her over with my devilish good looks and charming personality!”
“That’s one way to put it,” Verity mutters as she turns to glance in the mirror.
The heart pendant rests comfortably at just the length she likes to wear necklaces, the few times she does, despite the fact Loki’s never seen her in a necklace before. She looks good in the black blazer overtop a deep pink shirt. If Loki can get away with only wearing green and gold, then she can get away with wearing only black and pink.
Loki hooks her chin over Verity’s shoulder, grinning as she smushes her cheek against Verity’s, “Now can you braid my hair?”
“Yeah, if you’ll sit down.”
“Okay,” Loki huffs, taking a seat on Verity’s bed.
Verity sits down behind her, working her fingers through Loki’s hair, who winces only occasionally.
“Have you ever brushed your hair in your entire life?” Verity groans, “Because it doesn’t look like you have.”
“Technically, I haven’t. Not in this life, anyway. The last Loki was a lot better at remembering that kind of stuff but Me-Loki is a lot happier so I think it’s a pretty even trade-off. I am only, like, a year old.” (Not a lie. But also not an excuse when she has a decent amount of the memories of the last couple of Lokis, some of which are bound to include brushing hair.)
“Fair enough,” Verity sighs, leaning over to her nightstand to grab a hairbrush, “Give me a while and I’ll make this shit work.”
Loki turns back to give her the most coy look she can muster, “Be gentle, Verity.”
“You brought this on yourself! Brush your hair for once!”
“Messy hair is at least half of my charm!” (Not a lie. The other half is a combination of wordplay and being a loveable scamp.)
Verity shrugs, “Then don’t ask me to braid your hair.”
Then, she starts to brush Loki’s hair. She tenses up the first time the brush snags on a tangle; Verity puts a hand on Loki’s shoulder, steadying her before resuming brushing slightly more gently. When the action becomes fluid and smooth, not hindered by any patches of snags, Loki lets out a low, rumbling, sigh.
“Don’t fall asleep, asshole,” Verity whispers.
“I’m not going to.”
“Good, because I’m about to start braiding.”
Verity cards her hands through Loki’s hair, partitioning it off into three distinct sections before beginning to braid. She keeps the braid looser than she’d usually like but knowing Loki, she’d get whiny if Verity tried to pull her hair any tighter. When she’s done, she twists a hair band around the end to keep it in place.
“My neck feels very exposed,” Loki wrinkles her nose.
“That’s kinda how braids work, Loki.”
“It’s a weakness. That’s a weak spot and now it’s exposed.”
“Loki,” Verity crosses her arms, “My mom isn’t gonna try to kill you.” (Undeniably the truth.)
Loki reaches back and pulls the braid over one of her shoulders, “That’s better.”
“Good, ‘cos we need to get going if we don’t wanna be late.”
There isn’t much traffic on the way out of the city since they’re leaving during the sweet spot between the lunch and dinner rushes. At the outskirts of the city, Loki puts her feet up on the dashboard.
“Should I kiss you in front of your mother?”
“Don’t kiss me in front of my mom. Please. ”
“Okay, then what about hand holding? Pet names? Uncomfortable displays of affection?”
Verity sighs, “That’s all fine, okay, just do what’ll sell it.”
“Oh, I fully intend to,” Loki flashes her the lopsided grin that almost always means she’s scheming something, but Verity, eyes still trained on the road like a responsible person, doesn’t see it.
“And,” Verity adds, still not looking over, “Try to keep the stuff about you being a god to a minimum, that’ll take more explaining than I really want to do.”
Loki shrugs, “The best truth is a half truth.”
An hour later, they pull up to Verity’s mother’s house. It’s relatively unremarkable, just another fixture in a suburb of very similar looking houses with a lawn that looks nice but not very memorable. Verity parks next to her mother’s small car and shuts off the engine.
“Are you ready?” Verity turns to Loki.
“Are you ready?”
“Don’t dodge my questions with more questions!”
“Fine,” Loki groans, “Kind of. I’m kind of ready.” (Not a lie. Just really vague.)
“Then let’s go,” Verity says as she opens the door on her side.
Loki follows in suit, catching up to Verity before they reach the front door and grabbing her hand. Verity shoots her a confused look, brows furrowed, with the only response being a grin from Loki. Verity knocks on the door.
“Coming!” A muffled voice calls out from inside the house, followed by the clink of a chain being undone and the door being unlocked, “Verity! How have you been? It’s been so long since you came to visit!”
“Yeah,” Verity rubs the back of her neck sheepishly, “Things have been, uh, really hectic lately…” (Not a lie. The world almost ended and she kind of died for a while.)
“And who’s this?” She give Verity a small smile that could probably be classed as knowing, head cocked towards Loki. She smiles, wide enough to show off the missing tooth, and waves.
“This is Loki,” Verity runs her free hand through her hair, “My girlfriend/boyfriend and now can you please stop signing me up for speed dating?!”
“Come in, both of you!” She beckons them in, shutting the door behind them, expression suddenly serious, “Why didn’t you tell me about Loki?”
Loki lets out a small gasp, not dramatic enough to seem like an overreaction, and Verity already knows she’s going to regret doing this.
“Verity, are you embarrassed about me?” Loki takes her other hand and gives her the most earnest look Verity has ever seen grace her face and it’s almost enough to make her forget that this is all an act. Almost .
“No, I’m not , it’s just…”
“Verity, honey,” her mom interjects, “You know I accept you no matter what.”
“I know, mom, life’s just been really hectic so I haven’t had much time to tell you and honestly, things just started getting more serious between us…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” her mother laughs, “Just come sit down, let’s talk.”
She ushers them over to the living room, gesturing to the couch and waiting until Verity and Loki sit down before adding, “I’ll get some coffee.”
As soon as she’s out of the room, Verity turns to Loki, hissing out, “ Not fair!”
“I’m just playing my part!” Loki whispers back.
“You’re not supposed to catch me off guard like that!”
“You never told me not to catch you off guard!” (Not a lie, as annoying as it may be.)
Verity’s mother calls from the kitchen, “How do you take your coffee, Loki?”
“With as much cream and sugar as you’re willing to give me,” She calls out, before dropping her voice back to a whisper, “Okay, I’m sorry, Verity, I’ll try not to catch you off guard anymore.” (True, but only because she added in the stipulation of ‘try’.)
Verity’s mother steps back into the room, mugs in hand. She passes one to Loki, who takes it and smiles.
“Thank you, Ms. Willis,” Loki says between sips of coffee.
“Please,” she takes a seat in an armchair perpendicular to the couch, “Call me Eloise. Now, how did you two meet? Tell me all about it!”
Verity sighs, “We met on a speed date.”
“I told you speed dating was a good idea,” Eloise turns to look at Loki, “I told her, I told her that’s how I met Ron.”
Loki nods sagely in response, staying quiet as Verity buries her face in her hands in an attempt to cover up the fact she’s blushing.
“Is that a necklace I see?” Eloise sing-songs, only adding fuel to the fire of embarrassment burning on Verity’s face.
“Yeah,” Verity regains her composure, pushing her hair back, “Loki gave it to me.”
“It’s very nice.”
“It’s rose quartz and gold,” Loki interrupts.
“So, your name’s Loki, like the norse God of Mischief?” Eloise leans forward, bracing her elbow against her knee and resting her chin on her hand, “It’s an interesting name.”
“Well, actually, I’ve been working on reinventing myself so now I’m the moon-queen, wanderer, and Goddess of Stories.”
Verity elbows her in the side, subtly enough that Eloise doesn’t notice; she just smiles, “That’s... nice. So, um, what do you do for a living?”
“Nothing, currently, Verity’s being kind enough to let me live with her--”
“While she’s looking for a job,” Verity interjects.
Loki cuts her off, “But she’s willing to provide for me, right babe? I’m her trophy partner.”
“Loki, I work from home fact checking information for a legally dubious megacorporation. I don’t think I count as ‘dating rich’.”
“You do when I’m broke, darling.”
“Well,” Eloise finally adds, “I could get you in touch with some temp agencies if you wanted me to.”
“Loki can stay for now, ” Verity laughs, “She pays rent by cooking for me.”
“I’m very good at it,” Loki adds.
“Well, you’re both here early enough, why don’t you help me with dinner, Loki?”
Verity shoots Loki a very severe look before saying, “Don’t embarrass me in front of Loki, okay mom?”
“I won’t, sweetheart,” Eloise stands up, stopping in front of Loki, “Now come and help me figure out dinner. I’ve got some sirloin and no idea what to do with it.”
“I can make a steak that would make the gods smile down upon you,” Loki offers.
“That’ll work,” she shrugs.
Loki grins, letting Eloise show her to the kitchen and leaving Verity alone with her thoughts. There are plenty of ways in which Loki being alone with her mother could go wrong but the point is to get her to stop asking about Verity’s love life ever again, so she isn’t as concerned as she could be. Still, it is Loki and things are bound to turn out bad despite her best efforts.
In the kitchen, Loki slides a tray of garlic bulbs into the oven, “It’s much better if you roast it first.”
Eloise narrows her eyes, looking at Loki, “Is that the shirt I bought for Verity?”
“Indeed, it is.”
“Well, I’m glad someone’s wearing it”
Loki laughs before adding, “ Can you start the pan for me while I’m chopping vegetables?”
Eloise nods, setting the pan on the front burner before saying, “You better take good care of my Verity, Loki.”
“I intend to,” Loki pushes the knife down to the cutting board, “But I believe she’s able to take care of herself well enough on her own.”
“That’s the problem,” Eloise sighs, leaning back against the counter, “She’s been taking care of herself for too long. So you better not let her go.”
“I won’t, she’s my best and only friend.”
Eloise gives her a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “So you’re a loner too?”
“Mmm, I suppose that’s what you’d call it,” Loki’s voice is soft as she slides the onions and carrots into pan, “Now, let’s move onto the marinade. Olive oil, Worcestershire sauce, honey, thyme, and rosemary.”