Heaven Sent (Loki/Asgard Fanfiction - Aislinn's Story)

Chapter Ninety-Four

As spring crept in and the school year wound down. Aislinn found herself once more readjusting to Steve's schedule. But this one was a much easier adjustment, since he was now home by four or four-thirty most days.

March turned into April, and April into May, and Aislinn came into the nursery to open the windows and let in the warm air. Unlike her father, who was pure Jötunn and extremely sensitive to the heat, she tolerated it a little better. It didn't really bother her until mid-summer, so now, the gauzy white draperies fluttered in the breeze and as she gazed down at Chris, asleep in his crib, she couldn't help but smile. Three months old, with a full head of dark hair and eyes that were the color of pewter, he was a beautiful baby who now smiled socially and gurgled almost as much.

She tugged his lightweight fleece blanket up, brushed a kiss over his forehead, and left the nursery as quietly as she'd come in.

Steve was in the kitchen at the table near the French doors, sipping coffee while he perused the newspaper. He looked up as she came into the room. "Morning, beautiful. What're you doing up already?"

"I just woke up." She moved to the Keurig and popped in a raspberry-chocolate pod. While the coffee brewed, she said, "How long have you been up?"

"Since about five. I went for a run. Thought about hitting the gym, but I hate going there on the weekends."

"Why?" She fixed her coffee and sat down next to him, sliding the Today section of the paper closer.

He grinned. "Because there's this girl who hits on me all the time and I don't feel like explaining for the fiftieth time that I'm married and not interested."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Yep." He winked. "I'd rather be home." He lifted his coffee cup to his lips, wiggling his eyebrows as he sipped. Lowering it, he added, "Chris is finally sleeping through the night and I spend eleven months of the year getting up at the crack of dawn. I decided I wasn't going anywhere today."

"Poor Stevie."

"Don't call me that."

"Why? You don't always mind it."

He set his cup down. "That's because I know it's going to end with me having an orgasm and I'm not stupid enough to correct you for it at that point, ever." He flipped the front page of the sports section over and leaned to read the top story. "Never mind, correcting you about what you call me is the last thing I want to do when you're naked and I'm on top of you. I've got far more important things on my mind at that point."

She smiled, peering down at the Dear Abby column. "So, when does your summer job start?"

He twisted to peer over his shoulder at the calendar pinned to the corkboard by the wall-mounted phone. "My first opening is scheduled for next Saturday. We've got eight booked, so it's going to be a long day."

She picked up her cup. "Eight openings in one day?"

"Yeah. I've got a couple of kids from last summer coming back, so they won't need too much hand-holding. It'll be a long day, but it shouldn't be a terrible one." He tapped his fingertips on the table top. "But, there's something we need to discuss."

He sounded so serious, a ripple of apprehension trickled along her spine. "There is?"

"Yeah. Look, I probably should've asked you this before, but honestly, I didn't know how you'd answer, so..."

"Steve, what are you talking about?"

His eyes grew serious. "You didn't go to high school here, did you?"