agoodyarn | For godofbadideas: Because CAPTCHAS suck

For godofbadideas: Because CAPTCHAS suck

[starting here and continued from here]

The Rani considered Loki's words before carefully pulling her daughter out of the sling and settling her on the couch beside her. Mnemy, usually quite curious, looked around the room and then up at her mother before curling up beside her.

"If I thought you meant myself or my daughter harm, I wouldn't have come. And she's much smarter than a human child of her approximate age and form. Though I appreciate your... accommodation."

Though now she was having to explain to the small child that the magic being done did not require a wand because it was not like the magic done in Harry Potter.

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"I assumed as much," he called back from the kitchen. "Which is why things are now specifically keyed; 'smarter', in my experience, is just another way of saying 'more likely to get herself into trouble for the Hel of it'."

Cast iron went on the stove, a little butter in it, slowly melting as the metal heated up.

"...considering where half of her genetics came from, I suppose that's fair enough," she muttered, if only to herself. Her voice returned to normal volume after that. "Though she knows to behave herself when in a guest's home."

"That's a shame. I do so like it when children cause a bit of mischief."

"A TARDIS may be nearly infinite in what it can hold but rest assured that there is quite enough mischief to be found within without her ever involved," and she settled the little girl on the floor where she started to crawl around thoughtfully, clearly trying to understand some things about the location as well as why some things seemed 'green'.

The entire apartment was thick with magic, given that it was shoved into an unused closet in the hall of the building where it definitely wasn't supposed to be. 'Bigger on the inside' was undoubtedly familiar though. The 'green' things on the other hand... were probably more heavily and specifically enchanted. Or just things that Loki used frequently.

"While I don't doubt that, children are natural masters of the art."

She watched her toddler toddle through the room, clearly interested in a few of the different items and locations. Then, having found a soft throw pillow that had been shifted off the couch, she flopped over onto the pillow and started to snooze.

"They are. Thankfully for the sake of my work, Gallifreyan children spend an inordinate amount of time asleep. Mnemosyne's father had been reading to her just before so..."

She gestured to the sleeping child.

"How goes the sausage?"

"Almost done. I was just about to ask how you like your eggs," Loki replied, poking his head out of the kitchen.

His smile softened at the sight of the sleeping toddler, and he lowered his voice slightly: "Does she need a blanket?"

"Over medium with toast," was her answer, murmured low considering the sleeping child, "and I have her blanket with me. I find it best to let her settle in before placing it over her, however. It allows her heat regulation to function more steadily in conjunction with the material."

"All right. Should I make some for her as well?" he asked.

She was just laying the blanket out over her little one when she heard the question.

"One sausage for you, if you please. That will meet her requirements for the moment."

"All right, it'll just be a couple more minutes then. Ah-- Coffee? Tea?" he added suddenly.

"Coffee. If you'll recall."

Her eyes were on her child and her child alone, though there was an absent glance towards the TARDIS doors.

"I was trying not to assume," he pointed out, before ducking back into the kitchen, and getting on with it. The smell of eggs, toast, and very good coffee soon joined the smell of sausage, and then it wasn't long before Loki came back out, a huge tray of breakfast (never mind that the local time was somewhere after midnight) balanced on one hand, and a similarly-sized tray of coffee and coffee fixings balanced on the other.

"Breakfast is served."

"Thank you," she said, because she could be polite. Or perhaps it was the tenderness in the way he'd approached her child. She didn't LIKE being soft, but she liked that other people would realize the importance of her daughter, the triumph of her, how very special she was. And when she was happy, she could be downright sweet.

To select company.

"You have to try it before I do. I'm curious as to your feelings on the sausage."

"Then you can fix your coffee," he said. He set the trays down on the coffee table, and took the other side of the couch, before nabbing one of the sausages, and taking a bite.

It was delicious, a subtle blend of flavours that he chewed through thoughtfully.

She took the cup of coffee and pulled it to her, as she took her coffee black and straight. The only time she'd taken it any other way, she'd been pregnant with Mnemy and they Did Not Talk About such things afterwards.

She was mostly watching his face, though, curious and smug in turns.

He actually had very good control of his face when the task called for it, and it was showing nothing but thoughtful consideration as he chewed, and finally swallowed with a satisfied nod.

"Delicious," he declared. "Very well done - did you use rosemary?"

"The recipe will require a different exchange," she informed him as she started in on her own food.

"Suffice to say it was developed for one of the most demanding palates in the multiverse."

"It was a rhetorical question; I can taste rosemary, or something of a sufficiently similar flavour profile as to fill the same spice niche," Loki replied. "Though if you like we can definitely do a recipe exchange."

She wasn't the biggest fan of rhetorical questions. One should either be making a statement or asking a question. Combining the two just seemed unnecessary.

"I will consider the matter after we've gone on our shopping trip. Best to see if you can deliver that which you promise before engaging in further dealings."

"I think we'll find something to your liking," Loki says, but does not promise. Of course she's welcome to believe that he has.

She smirked just a little at him. Try again. You're talking to a Prydonian.

"I'm glad you have such confidence," she said as she took another couple of bites. It really was very good. "And I look foward to seeing the fruit of that confidence."

His own grin widened a little.

"It'll have to wait a few hours," he warned. "Unless you want to go bother Stark himself; even in New York, the best shops aren't open at this hour. ...well. For what we want, anyway."

"Do you speak of Howard, Anthony, Natasha, or Enja Stark?"

She glanced around the room thoughtfully.

"I would assume from the decor, it would be one of the first three, but your magic disturbs my instruments and won't allow for verification and there's always those who enjoy a look out of the past."

"Anthony, though he prefers Tony," Loki says with a shrug. "I'll trade the specs for compensating for magic in temporo-spatial analysis for your sausage recipe."

"Would the specifications you provide work for all magic or merely the magic that runs through this place?" she asked thoughtfully, because that would be useful, given her various haunts about the multiverse.

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