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Loki didn’t bother with dissembling when they returned from dinner; his walls were up, memories of her safely stored away, and he felt better than he had in days. Housekeeping had come in their absence, and Loki flopped gratefully onto the nearest bed. His earlier work had taken more out of him than he’d anticipated, though he was pleased with the results. Aeslin stood a little hesitantly, toying with her room key as she looked at him, and eventually he cleared his throat with a meaningful glance at the empty space next to him.
She seemed torn, and he kicked off his shoes and scooted toward the top of the bed. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, and she scoffed gently.
“Really.”
He fluffed a pillow invitingly. “Mmhmm, and you’re wrong. Sweet, but wrong nonetheless.”
“I just don’t want to make things difficult for you. I mean, last night was… appreciated, but I can’t expect you to do that all the time.”
“Which is fine,” he responded, “since I’m not going to.” He pulled the covers back, tossing aside his pride as he did so. “But if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one getting something out of this.”
She flipped the plastic card in her hands, then put it on the table along with her phone and keys. Loki kept up his reassuring chatter, once again feeling oddly like he was trying to soothe a skittish, wounded bird long enough to set its broken wings. “There’s nothing to fear, Kindlesdaughter,” he told her gently. “You know as well as I do I would do nothing to hurt you, even if I could, or damage whatever it is we have.” He tried and failed to look the least bit casual. “It’s far too dear to me to risk anything more.”
After a moment’s thought, she finally dropped her shoes and socks near her bag and climbed in next to him, ignoring the pillows and tucking her head into the hollow of his shoulder. Her hand rested on his chest, and he covered it with his almost automatically, fingers stroking across the soft, cool skin. Loki pulled up the covers, his lips against her hair, before replacing his hand on hers.
“I’m not quite tired yet,” he said. “I thought I might do some research.”
He felt her laugh against his ribs. “We’ve talked about this,” she said, her voice a little muffled by his shirt. “Watching the History Channel doesn’t count as decent research.” She poked his rib gently as she lowered her voice into a rough approximation of Westinghouse’s. “You’ll never get anywhere if you don’t get out into the field, you know.”
Loki grinned as he picked up the remote and flipped through the menus on the screen. “We could watch a movie, then. This one looks-”
“No,” she said abruptly. “Not that one.”
He went past without another word, his other hand working carefully, softly to pry her fingers up from where they dug into his ribs. She curled closer, plastering herself along his side, and he chose his documentary after a few false starts and put the remote back on the nightstand. His fingers worked their way gently along her spine, smoothing out knots and tension, and at last Loki felt her relax against him.
***
She was gone by the time he woke the next morning; the shower was running, and his arm was still a bit numb, so Loki figured he had missed her by only moments. He massaged feeling back into his bicep and then his hand, shaking it gently as he left the bed.
Aeslin emerged a while later, and Loki flicked off the news he’d been watching to pass the time as he packed up. A nod, and they traded places, already falling into an easy routine, and Loki smiled at the thought of it. The idea was comforting; Loki had had few friends of his own in his long lifetime, preferring to spend his days in solitude or in the company of Thor’s friends when he had to, and Loki realized that, Odin’s offer notwithstanding, the fact that he had friends, companions (and whatever she was) that hadn’t been his brother’s first was one of the things that held him to this Realm. He closed his eyes against the scalding spray, Frigga’s face appearing in the blackness of his lids, and his grinned widened.
-Find hope.-
His mother’s words were as clear as though she’d spoken them through the shower curtain.
Done and done, he thought back with a bit of a laugh. But why stop there?
***
“I could have done that for you,” she told him over the sound of ice clattering into his cup. He surveyed his selections and pushed one of the buttons, then added two pumps of syrup and put the cup back under the fountain.
“Can’t imagine why I wouldn’t want you to,” he replied with a bit of a smirk as it filled. He reached for a lid and made sure the straw he chose was long enough.
She nudged him. “I was under orders, and it was one time.”
Loki leaned down, kissing away the slight pout that came to her lips. He pulled back a little and ran his thumb along her jaw. “Then never let it be said that I can’t learn my lessons.” Another kiss, a wink, and he lifted his cup. “Meet you at the front.”
The cashier glanced at the large collection of snacks on the counter. “Long trip ahead?”
“Oh, I’m sure,” he said, “and with any luck, this will get us through until dinnertime.” He smiled at her confusion. “High metabolism, I’m afraid. Can I get a bag?”
***
The small tablet she had pocketed apparently held her music collection, with a few narrated books thrown in for good measure, and Loki picked up on the way it worked quickly. He’d asked her permission to explore it, perhaps play a few things if it didn’t bother her, and she’d shrugged and said that the reason it was on there was because she liked it. He extracted a promise from her to tell him if he hit a song that brought anything painful to the surface, and she’d nodded.
Loki alternated between searching through for songs and watching out the window as the world unfolded around him. They passed a sign declaring their entrance into a new state, and Loki looked around. It didn’t seem any different from the one they’d just left, so he shrugged and went back to his browsing. She spoke for the first time in long miles. There was a trace of something in her voice, something between resignation, acceptance and defeat, and he took the phone she handed him without looking.
“Call Tony,” she said to the road in front of them, not meeting his eyes. “Tell him we’re on our way.”