Muffins - Loki & Ylva alternate universe stories

The handler I

This is another Loki & Ylva story that plays out in an alternative universe. No coffee shop here! In this alternative universe Asgard is still there and so are Odin and Frigga. New York and the Chitauri army did happen, any other events from later movies did not take place.
Again: this story is not related to the Coffee & Books storyline. This is just me having fun, writing about Loki and Ylva in different scenarios. Enjoy!

***

The doorbell rings. And immediately for a second time, longer now. I groan and push the blanket off me. Putting the tv on pause with the remote, I push myself off the couch. The doorbell rings again, two short rings and a longer one. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," I grunt out before a coughing fit stops me in my tracks.
The person on the other side of the door has no regards for my ill health and rings the doorbell again. The building may better be on fire as an excuse for this doorbell-behaviour! I open the bolts, stifle another cough and open the door to my unwelcome guest. Shit. I should have brought my gun. "What are you doing here?!"

The God of Mischief has his hand on the doorjamb, finger over my doorbell. He looks me up and down, taking in my disheveled state. It's quite the clash with his leather armour in black and green. "SHIELD called for me, I'm here. That's kind of our thing, isn't it?"

The rich timbre of his voice finds its way to my lower stomach, as it always does. I sigh deeply. "I'm pretty sure the message said to report to headquarters," I argue, holding the door and the doorpost to block the entrance. And to hold myself up. That too. "Barry is waiting for you at HQ. He'll brief you this time."

Loki stares at me for a second before he brushes my arm out of the way and walks past me in to my apartment. "Does Barry have a death wish?" he asks casually, looking back over his shoulder.

Most of my brain cells have been replaced by snot and mucus. "No?"

When I keep standing there with the door in my hand, Loki takes a couple of steps back and reaches past me to close the door. "Do you want Barry dead?" It's an honest question, he is really only inquiring.

"No!" Another coughing fit overtakes me and Loki quickly steps out of range.

"Then don't put me in a room alone with Barry," he states simply. "You are my handler, Wolfgirl. Handle it."

It's always Wolfgirl, or Little Wolf. Never Ylva or Miss Frederikson, not once in the last two years. Pretty sure I introduced myself with my full name though, not the old Norwegian meaning of my name.
"I called in sick today, in case you had not noticed," I call after Loki, who walks into my kitchen like he comes here every day; instead, it has only been a handful of times.

"Oh, I noticed," he replies airily, opening up cabinets in search of who knows what. "You look like shit."

"Thanks," I mutter sarcastically. Still, I try to push my hair out of my face and I straighten out my T-shirt. It has the SHIELD logo on it and it goes great with my unicorn rainbow pajamas pants.

Meanwhile, Loki has put the kettle on and he is waiting for the water to boil with his arms crossed, leaning against my kitchen counter. "Well?"

"What, well?" Snot and mucus instead of brain cells over here.

"The briefing?" He looks at me pointedly.

"Barry..." I start.

"Barry..." Loki mimics me. "Come on, Little Wolf. You're usually not this slow."

"I'm sick!" I protest, though Loki isn't fazed. I can feel myself give in already. I could call HQ, call Barry, make them come get the God of Lies out of my hair. Yet that would take time, almost as much time as it would take me to log in on the secure server and brief Loki myself. Scenario 1 would piss him off, scenario 2 would possible only piss me off. You don't want to deliberately anger a demi-god from Asgard, so scenario 2 it is. He is here now anyway. I stomp off to my bedroom to get my laptop, even though stomping off in fluffy socks doesn't make that big of an impression.