The Mortal With The Green Eyes (Loki & OC Fan Fiction)

Sausages and Bacon

I slowly come to and open my eyes. For a brief moment, I have forgotten about the events of the previous night. Wait, no I haven't. My eyes bulge open, but then squint in puzzlement. I sniff the air. Smells like, food. I crawl out of bed and growl. 11 am. I slip my feet into my black fuzzy Jessica Simpson slippers and shuffle towards the door rubbing my eyes. I open my door to see Alice's door is still shut. At which point I re-bulge my eyes open at the thought of who is making food. Loki. I shuffle on into the kitchen and when I turn the corner, there he is standing in front of the stove with 2 burners going and something on both of them. He picks up one of the pans and begins to move the contents about with a spatula. As I walk into the kitchen the hardwood creaks and Loki spins around and our eyes meet.

"Oh, you're awake. Did you sleep well?" he asks while moving sausages about on the pan in his hand. I am in shock and awe and the fact that not only has Loki figured out where the food was but how to turn the stove on and cook!

"How did you, where, um, so, how'd you figure out how to use the stove?" I ask putting my hands on my hips while squinting and laughing. Loki puts the spatula down and holds his hand up to reveal a piece of paper towel wrapped around his right thumb.

"Well, I figured that this was the room that the food was kept so I went through all the compartments to see what I could find. When I got to this large white machine and opened it, I immediately recognized the uncooked meats. I wasn't too sure exactly what they were but assumed they couldn't be much different then what I have back home. Next I tried to figure out how to cook them. I knew I couldn't start a fire in here, so I assumed one of these devices cooked the food. I came over here to this black metal box with all the dials and concluded that this was the cooker. After messing with the dials, I had placed my hand on the the red surface and in burning my thumb, figured out how to use it. Then I saw all these metal containers hanging here and they looked similar to what I use to cook back on Asgard so, once again assumed these were the proper cooking containers" He points to the pot & pan rack above the island with his bandaged thumb and half cocks a smile. Aww he is so cute.

"Aww you poor thing," I walk over to him and take the pan from his hand and place it back on the stove. Boy he wasn't kidding, he cooked up a storm, sausages and BACON! I cradle his hand in mine and remove the paper towel he's wrapped around his thumb. His thumb is red but otherwise not badly injured. I smile lovingly at him as I gingerly caress his hand. He smiles back warmly. I snap back to reality. "Well, yes, um, let me, go, get you a proper bandage for that," at this point my heart is beating out of my throat to the point where I can hear nothing but thumping in my head. I turn out of the kitchen down the hall passed our rooms to the bathroom. I kneel on the lilac fuzzy bath rug and open the cabinets under the sink. I stop and position my legs Indian-style. I feel my pulse. Jesus that fucker feels like its gunna burst out of my neck. I shake my head and rummage through the first aid kit and find the bandages. Here they are! I grab a band-aid and as I go to stand up and reach for the knob, Alice has opened the door from the other side. I jump slightly.

"Do you know Loki is in our kitchen cooking sausages and bacon?" she whispers to me smiling with eyebrows raised and her thumb pointed over her shoulder back towards the kitchen.

"Yea. He is isn't he," I giggle.

"What's with the band-aid?" she asks.

"Oh, Loki burned his thumb trying to figure out how to use the stove," I raise my eyebrows in an aww fashion and tilt my head.

"You've got a thing for this guy don't you?" shes asks. Not like I've done a good job at hiding it or anything.

"Is it that obvious?" I squint and lower my head as a chuckle.

Alice just shoots me a look. I know that look. Here it comes. *Whack* She 'Gibbs-slaps' me in the back of the head.

"Ow!" I squeak as I rub the back of my head.