ikols | open post | psls

[ Loki gets the impression that all is forgiven by Spock considering the wealth of information Loki dumps on him about a deified species and the Multiverse in general, the intense questioning never faltering so that Loki falls into a rhythm with him and keeps out of Chris's way during the journey. Once the nebula is reached the sharks rush over, only the largest taking his time until even he is a small dot swallowed up by the pretty pinks and oranges of stellar clouds. ]

It's like we took them to brunch.

[ Spock's low monotone questions and Loki's much more animated responses slip into the same category of background noise occupied by the helmsmen's chatter and the general hum of the bridge very quickly, a pleasant but ignorable part of the scenery.

Contrary to popular belief, even warp speeds don't get you anywhere you choose in no time at all, but even the vastness of the galaxy can be traversed eventually, and it's not that long before Erica and Jenna start to drop them out of warp as gently as possible.

Before them hangs the nebula, a huge mass of candy-colored clouds that Chris honestly finds very pretty. ]

I hope they enjoy themselves, then.

[ Loki's gaze rests on Chris. He gives Spock a pat on the shoulder, gaining a raised brow, and heads over to stand to one side of the captain's chair, hands clasped behind his back as he tears his attention off the viewing screen. ]

Captain, I would like to request asylum. At least for a while.

[ That's certainly one way to get his attention. Chris tears his eyes away from the screen immediately, turning to look up at Loki with his brows furrowed in confusion. ]

Asylum?

[ From what? What kind of protection can they provide someone like Loki, who can survive in the vacuum of space and can twist reality to his whim? ]

That's what I said, yes.

[ 3:) ]

[ He opens his mouth as if to request clarification, but then snaps his mouth shut. Fine. If that's how Loki wants to play it, Chris will play along. He'll press him for details later. ]

Yes, of course.

I will have to stay close to my point of origin in this universe, unfortunately that means using your couch for a little while. I would not ask if this were not imperative to my return to my own dimension, Captain, yet I understand if this is too great an imposition on your hospitality.

[ Keep up with the fibs, Chris. ]

[ Chris's jaw works silently for a moment like he's grinding his teeth against a smile or an incredulous what?

Thankfully, he keeps his cool. ]

Of course. I understand.

[ He does not understand. That was an incredibly convoluted explanation, and he's pretty sure the only people it might have fooled were those not avidly paying attention, but whatever. It's fine. Chris will play along. ]

I'm sure we'll be able to find you accommodations on board, it's not an imposition.

[ Loki keeps his cool with a vulcan-like control, likely a blend of his own lying and observing Spock for so long uninterrupted. ]

As I said, the couch will do fine. [ He cocks his head. ] Now that the sharks are taken care of, may I be excused? I've over-exerted myself for the day.

[ The Enterprise has rooms set aside for visiting dignitaries and ambassadors; there will certainly be space for Loki as a political refugee or whatever his excuse will be for staying put. Still, if he wants a couch, then fine. He can have a couch.

Fighting to keep his eyebrows in check — he's not pretending to be a science officer, he can stop asking for Chris's permission all the time — Chris just nods when Loki asks to be excused, waving his fingers a little in dismissal.

There's no point asking where he's going to go. Chris has a pretty good idea already. ]

Of course.

[ Loki slips off with a sad wave to Spock who looks as if he has been deprived of his new favourite toy, heading into the turbolift. He heads for Chris's quarters and changes his outfit on the way into a tshirt and dark jeans, looking somehow more out of place in those than he does in his armour. The code to the captain's rooms is easy to break into and he decides to cook them dinner in case Chris has any lingering annoyances leftover from Loki's confession in the readyroom.

The replicator obliges him with potatoes, butter, salmon ... a half-dozen ingredients to prepare as he puts some music on and half-dances around with a tea-towel slung over a shoulder. ]

[ Late to arrive to his shift, late to leave...

In Chris's defense, the late to leave part hadn't been his fault either; Spock had grabbed him as he was getting ready to leave and done his best to coax Chris into divulging more details about the Aesir, correctly assuming that he had something of an inside scoop that other members of the ship might not. Unfortunately for Spock, there really wasn't that much more information Chris could give him that Loki hadn't already divulged. Still, it was gratifying to see how truly excited Spock was to update his databases with all this information, and by the time he was able to extricate himself, he felt fairly confident that nothing was going to explode in his face as far as the crew was concerned.

He hadn't forgotten that Loki knew where he lived, or that he undoubtedly knew how to break in, but he can't lie and say he's not at least a little surprised to unlock his door and be greeted with the scent of cooking, some music he doesn't recognize floating out the door, the undeniable sounds of someone moving through his space like they're comfortable and assured of their welcome.

It's deeply unfair how nice that feels. ]

Honey, I'm home.

I'm in the kitchen!

[ As if that is a secret. Loki wanders around the breakfast bar and holds his hands out in welcome to reel Chris in for a brief kiss, if he can have one. ]

I'm making apologetic mashed potatoes.

[ Chris lets himself be towed in for a kiss hello, mostly because he's a secret sucker for that kind of stuff, and it really is hard to hold on to his irritation in the fact of such sweet affection and the smell of dinner nearly being ready. ]

Are apologetic mashed potatoes fundamentally different from other ones?

[ Chris gets a solemn nod. ]

They taste much better because they are filled with the regret of accidentally luring sharks to your lover's ship.

Your lover, huh?

[ Chris leans against the edge of the breakfast bar and folds his arms over his chest, lifting his eyebrows. ]

You dating someone on this ship I should know about? You told that shark you were seeing someone, after all.

[ Like the mature adult he is, he bastes the salmon frying in its pan and shoots Chris a (mostly) straight look over a shoulder. Loki can't look too closely or he won't be able to cook without burning their meal! ]

I'll have you know I'm a very eligible name and that shark was very polite about his proposition.

Is that what he asked you?

[ He seems mostly amused, partially confused, and a little bit perturbed; not that he's ever considered what it might be like to be with a shark (why would he), now he can't help but try to imagine it. ]

How would that even work, would you have to turn into a shark too? [ He can do a fox, apparently, and a bear too. Why not a shark? ] Would you have a half-shark half-human baby? Is that even possible?

I could be a shark if I wanted to. I'd be the best looking shark out there!

[ Sensing this is where the conversation is going to find its lull, he elaborates (Chris has earned the right to ask these things). ]

I mothered a horse, once. He came out with eight legs but was otherwise fine.

I don't doubt you'd be a beautiful shark.

[ Join Starfleet, they said. Explore the galaxy. Meet new civilizations, make new friends, expand your horizons.

He pretty sure no recruitment posters he ever saw in his high school hallways ever mentioned anything like this. ]

I have so many questions and I don't even know where to start.

[ Slicing a chunk of honeyed salmon off and adding a small dollop of his mayo-infused creamy mash alongside it, he sets a mini plate down by Chris with a fork to give him something to nibble while Loki finishes cooking. As he does so, he leans in to kiss him affectionately on the cheek. ]

Ask the one that feels most important first.

Eight legs? Like a spider?

[ The mothering part isn't all that strange, really, he already knows Loki has a female form he can don just as easily as his current gender, even in he said that he felt most comfortable in this skin, so it stands to reason that if he can change his body into a woman's, if he can change his body into another animal's, he could do both at the same time. Carrying a child after all that seems kind of a given.

Still. A horse? An eight-legged horse? ]

Here, [ Loki takes out his phone and scrolls to a photo of Sleipnir, a giant horse with black colouring and red eyes ... and lots of legs that have trampled enemies before, ] take a look at him. His name is Sleipnir.

[ There's a lot going on that Chris wants to comment on: Loki cooking for him. Loki letting himself into his quarters like he lives here. Loki handing him what looks like an early 21st-century display device to show off the photo of the horse he apparently birthed.

The eight legs.

Chris, however, is as predictable as ever and instead oohs over the horse like it's like any other he's seen. ]

He's gorgeous. How many hands is he?

Uh. He's just shy of nine-foot tall? I don't know your fancy horse-man terms, cowboy.

[ Because that is what Chris is rapidly turning into. ]

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