ikols | open post | psls

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. ]

You gave birth to a horse and you don't even know how big it is?

[ He takes a bite of his salmon because it looks and smells delicious, turning his attention to Loki and away from the picture of the red-eyed eight-legged stallion he'd been admiring.

His fork halfway to his mouth with a second bite, Chris pauses and blinks at him a little. ]

Nine feet tall at the shoulder?

He wasn't that big when I gave birth!

[ Spluttering, Loki shores up their dinner onto plates. ]

He's about, uh ... [ With an absent wave of his fingers while sorting out the salmon, a green magical hologram of a truly enormous horse standing 8.5ft at the shoulder shimmers into life. It looks like it could trample a shuttlecraft. ] About that big.

I should certainly hope not.

[ Smirking, Chris slides back the data device and then lets himself be distracted by the sparkling green hologram of the horse, stunned both by its size and the eight legs. Apart from the extra appendages and the fact that it's about the size of a house, it looks like a perfectly normal horse.

Chris can't help wondering how the hell to put a saddle on it. ]

He's massive.

[ Chris's plate is set down loudly and Loki leans in, hand on a hip. ]

You're cute when you go all farm boy on me.

I am not going all farm boy on anyone.

[ Hardly a convincing protest, considering that is exactly what he's doing and he knows it, too. ]

I grew up on a ranch, alright, I like horses.

Hah! You're a horse boy.

[ Cackling, Loki tucks into his meal of mayo-mash, braised honey salmon, and spicy grilled veggies. ]

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