Thor- Virtua No. 5

The hospital’s main building carried a haunted air in the hours after closing.  The night staff would be half-asleep by now, the janitors long gone home for a few precious hours of rest.  Jane drove against the sun through town, on a road that would be wall to wall traffic in another thirty minutes.  She followed her well established path without a single conscious thought, her speedometer miles above the speed limit.  She made sharp turns in all directions and swerved in and out of lanes on the deserted streets.  Only a few had emerged from their boxy suburban homes to get the paper or water the grass.  Not one of them stared after her.

Somewhere deep within Jane’s psyche had to be her common sense, crying out with all the strength of a bedridden child that there had to be a logical explanation for all of this.  Like a hallucination or drugs in the water.  Maybe an angry ex-patient was enacting some kind convoluted revenge plot, gaslighting her until she could no longer function as a doctor or indeed as a human being.  As far out as it sounded, it still made more sense than what the greater part of her was thinking.

Yet here she was, going sixty miles an hour in a twenty mile zone.  The tattered remains of her good fortune worked just enough to keep the sirens from blaring, but it couldn’t prevent the simultaneous sinking of Jane’s gut and swelling of her chest as Genial North appeared, silhouetted on the horizon like a ghostly apparition.

The security guard took one glance at her ID and opened the gates, no questions or comments to speak of.  Sometimes, doctors show up early to get extra work done or to plan for upcoming conferences.  Jane doubted any of them were typically here a full three hours before their shift was to start, but that was the least of Jane’s concerns.  She found a parking spot close to the elevators and bolted.  In her frenzied state, she may have forgotten to grab her key from the ignition, or she may have just dropped them somewhere by the tires.  They weren’t in her hand with her ID badge when she stepped off the elevator, that was all she knew.

The fourth floor was where most of the patients were kept, organized by name and security level.  General patients—those with common conditions who were likely to only stay a few months came first.  Jane passed Mr. Folan’s room on the left hand side and didn’t look in.  Next were moderate level patients like Ian.  His door bore the latest stick drawing that he’d done for arts and crafts.  Jane caught it out the corner of her eye and she almost screamed.  They looked way too familiar.

Next were the truly sick patients.  Some of them cried out in answer to voices no one else could hear, others slept fitfully and rocked on creaky bedsprings.  Darcy’s door was wide open, her bed newly made and her belongings untouched.

Jane darted across the hall.  The few night staff who remained on duty spared her not a glance, even if she almost ran into them.  It was as if their eyes slid right by her, unseeing and unaware.  Or perhaps they were the ones who weren’t really there…

The room she wanted was at the very end of the L shaped hall.  It was the final door at the end of the hall.  The numbers, brass and emblazoned, shot out and stung Jane’s eyes.  The sunlight reflected off the metal handlebar into her face, blinding her unless she kept blinking.  Her eyes opened and closed so fast that her vision became like that of an old fashioned film projector.  It made her descent into the narrow, isolated hallway seem all the slower.  Each step she took on her lead metal feet felt like one more step up a mountain, but somehow, someway, she reached the top.  She pushed open the door and it gave like it wasn’t even there.

She didn’t know how she knew he’d be waiting for her, but when the door swung on ungreased hinges, creating a sound that grated on Jane to her bones, he was there, out of bed and garbed in uniform white pajamas.  They looked ridiculous on him.  That color was all wrong.  He needed something darker.

Jane stood rooted at the spot, daring not to go in, but not wanting to be caught disturbing a patient she no longer had a right to see either.  She was left at something of a standstill.  The patient was over by the window, one leg hanging on the sill and looking out.  He hummed a little song that Jane didn’t recognize, in spite of a clawing, grasping voice in her head that told her she should.

It also told her to run.

“I knew you’d come.”

The patient was not looking at her, could see nothing reflected back at him in the window expect the faintest outlines, and yet that was the tone he always used with her when he wanted her to feel small.  It was so he could crush her underfoot.

He leapt gracefully off the window, like some kind of ballet dancer.  His long body stretched out, first his legs and then his arms.  There was a good three or four yards between them, yet Jane felt he could reach out and grab her without moving an inch.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she told him, or maybe she was telling herself.  It was a stupid thing to say either way.  She was a little late in the game to come back to her senses.

“And yet, here you are.”  His tiny laugh echoed.  “I have to wonder why.”

Jane wrapped her arms around herself, turning her body away and doing all she could to disappear from sight.  This was what animals did to avoid hungry predators.

“You have no need to fear me,” he said.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

That laugh again.  Louder this time; it bounced around the room.

“You have a great many fears.”  He started to walk to her.  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  I know you’ve suffered in your life.  I’ve born witness to much of it.”

Jane shook her head, harder and harder the closer he came.  Hard enough that her neck would break, or her whole head would fall off.  At this point, it would be a mercy.  She wouldn’t be able to hear him anymore.

“Now, now, Jane,” he said, and her name on his lips was like a curse and seduction all wrapped up in one big foreboding package.  “I think it’s high time we move past this nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense,” Jane said.  She waved around the room and at the patient. “It’s not nonsense.  This- this is nonsense.  All of this— You’re trying to do something to me.  You’re trying to make me as crazy as you are!”

His hands found her face, stilling her body and forcing her to gaze into his eyes as deeply as he did hers.  The look on his face was indescribable, but it bore signs of pain and regret and determination, and maybe a little humor.

“I don’t think it’s possible to be as crazy as I.” A ghost of a smile played at his handsome features.  Jane’s next out of nowhere and highly unnecessary thought was that he’d look better if he got a haircut.  “But you’ll understand everything in just a moment.”

He leaned in, his intent obvious.  Jane gasped and wrenched away from her with a chocked cry.  She pressed herself into the wall.  A bedpan and five and a half feet was all the protection from him she had left.

“Don’t touch me,” Jane said, gulping back some much harsher words.  “Don’t you touch me again!”

He lifted his hands, palms out.  “My apologies.  That was much too forward.  You are still in a delicate condition, though you have improved significantly since I last saw you.”  He took another step and moved the bedpan out of the way.  “I said that I would not hurt you, and I meant it.  I would sooner end my own life than lay a hand on you.”

“Don’t…” Jane’s knees grew weak, bending outward as they came dangerously close to giving out.  “Why are you doing this?”

He hunched over, meeting her at eye level.  Before Jane could fight him, he took her hands in his.  His thumbs rubbed circles into her cooling skin.  Color returned in small bursts from his ministrations, and Jane was loathed to admit how his touch soothed her.  Her whole body had fallen limp, held together by skin; her bones seemed to have vanished.  She fell into him.  His strong arms held her steady on her feet.  Drawing them both to full height, he wrapped himself more fully around her, covering her view of the outside world and relative safety.  All she could see now was him.  All she could hear was the beat of his heart.  All she could feel was the papery material of his pajama shirt, which seemed thicker and coarser than it was before.  Her senses honed on him, shutting out everything else as a consequence.  No longer did the dim ring of the hospital phone or the hushed voices of night workers glace her ears, and she couldn’t see the light of the sun that should be getting brighter.  The whole world was gone; only they two remained.

“I haven’t held you like this in so long,” he said, his chest vibrating against her cheek.  “You’re smaller than I remember.”

Jane wanted to pull away.  His words fueled a rage that ran through a feral side of her that she never knew she had, and in no uncertain terms, it wanted her out of here, and away from him.  She would have listened, but powerful as the urge was, her heart wasn’t in it.  He took that need away from her.  He was consuming her.

“You’ve never held me,” she hiccuped, her final, futile defense coming in a wavering voice tarnished by the tears. 

His chest rumbled with more of that laughter, terrible in its warmth and sincerity. 

“Ah, Jane,” he said.  Soft fingers ran through her hair.  “Always so stubborn, so intent on being right and having the final word.  I had hoped I’d see that in you again.”

If possible, he held her tighter.  Jane didn’t know why he bothered.  She’d lost the ability to stop him ages ago.

His nose tickled the shell of her ear. “I knew coming here was a good idea.”

She felt his lips, feather light on her skin.  If she thought he would kiss her there, he was determined to prove her wrong.  He rested his chin atop her head, allowing her to dry her eyes and take in more of his scent.  It calmed her fraying nerves with the rest of him, and the knowledge that he wielded such power over her brought a whole new litany of anxieties to the forefront, only to be soothed in turn.  It was a vicious, endless cycle that left Jane emotionally exhausted.  She couldn’t feel anything from the neck down.  If he wasn’t holding her so tightly, she didn’t think she’d be able to stand.

“You’re wrong,” she mumbled, her words slurred with her mouth half covered.  He pulled away, just enough that she could raise her head.  She hated that she was still crying.  “I am as crazy as you.”

He smiled, and for the first time, there wasn’t a trace of a smirk to be found.

“That’s my curse, darling.”

He brought a hand to her cheek, cupping it with a touch that belied the chaos lurking within him.  That was the last thing Jane’s formerly sharp mind could process before she let that go, too.  A tiny whimper preceded her eyes fluttering closed, and his breath on her face as their lips met.

The world fell to pieces.

Jane saw next to nothing in the empty void, except faint moving pictures over the side of his head.  They flared to life in a ball of white light that took the center of Jane’s vision and grew out.  From a pinprick to a ball to an enormous globe, it shut out the unending darkness.

And then, Jane saw everything.

She saw herself in the dark desert nights with her notes and equipment waiting for something to happen in the sky.

She saw Erik at her side waiting with her, and Darcy—sweet, snarky, sane Darcy—sitting in the back with her Taser and iPod.

She saw the man she hit with her car charming her with his gentlemanly ways. 

She saw him talk to her in the dead of night about the world he came from, and prove the very next day that he meant what he said.

She saw him leave in a flash of light, only to return years later in the same way.

She saw herself fight a war with him that destroyed half his family and made them close.

She saw them together, first in her home, then in his.  That was right… he had to return unexpectedly, and she went with him.

Then she saw their wedding.

She saw herself on the throne of a true to life magic kingdom.

She saw the years pass like the turn of a dial.  So many years; more than she ever should have known.

She saw the light fade little by little: of the city, of the sky, and in her eyes. 

She saw the rise and fall of countless uprisings. 

She saw the dawn of every war and the eve of every esoteric victory.

She saw her husband leave her arms, sparingly at first, then more and more through the years.  Over the years, he would withdraw.  He’d grow tired of her.  Whatever love had joined them together was withered and dead.

She saw him turn his attentions to other women, forgetting all about the one who waited in their bed. 

She saw the people betray her.  They’d never cared for her from the start, but now that she’d lost the king’s good favor, nothing could hold them back.  She saw herself become a laughingstock.

She saw herself age, in spirit if not in body.

She saw herself run.

She saw herself cry.

She saw herself weaken.

She saw herself search in vain for a single pair of non-judgmental eyes, until the day she gave up and left the palace for good.

She saw all of it and more, and when she could see no more she looked away.  She returned to her body and unleashed a scream that had been building for days, if not for years.  She pushed with all her might and she fell away from him.  She stumbled into a corner, wrapping frail arms around her legs.  There was a mirror right there, but she couldn’t look at it.  She couldn’t see herself right now, divest of a treacherous mask and back to an unreal reality.

“Thor…” she whispered.  His smile burned in her mind’s eye with a somber quality, like he was hurt that she’d forgotten his name for so long.  “Thor…”

She heard a growl.  It came from the man standing over her, his face twisted in a snarl that he seemed to want to hide for her benefit. 

“Don’t say that name,” he snapped.  His fingers flexed, not like he was going to grab her, but like he wished there was a particular man’s neck there for him to strangle.  “You always remember him first, don’t you?”

She edged away, but as she had yet to regain feeling in her lower half, she had to content herself with sliding on her behind.  She noticed too late that she was approaching the mirror.  She could no longer hide from the mess that she was.  Her clothes were mismatched, her hair was in knots, and her skin was pale grey.  And it was all because of him.

She knew exactly who he was now.

This was the man who had tried to destroy her home out for his own sick purposes.

The man who had faked his death to usurp the throne, and then disappeared to parts unknown when his charade was over.

The man who couldn’t show his face for five hundred years, only to return when Asgard was in dire straits, against an enemy who might have had the potential to end the realm eternal.

This was the man who had single-handedly ended that war, all in the name of Asgard’s true king, or so he said.

The man Thor had been all too happy to see the good in again, and believe that he’d learned his lesson at last.

 The man who had wormed his way into her life, first to mock her, then to befriend her, then to be the only one on that godforsaken realm who never looked at her like she was no better a pebble in their shoe.

The man whose arms she had cried herself to sleep in the first time Thor left her for another woman.

The man whose promises of a better life for them both she never took seriously.  Not until he vanished without a trace the day she exiled herself from courtly life, only to return months later in the midst of a powerful storm to tell her that all would be well. 

“I’m going to make you happy, Jane,” he said to her that day, his eyes an unnatural shade of blue.  “Truly happy.  You will never have a sad day again.”

“Loki,” she said now, as she had said then, too.  “Loki… what have you done?”

He got down on one knee, caressing her face with a soft hand that nevertheless burned her like fire.

“You know what I’ve done,” he said.  “I’ve saved you from your misery.  I’ve taken the cruel old world that deserted us and remade it into something new.  I’ve given us both a chance to find the happiness we deserve.”

“No,” Jane pulled away.  She had to get away from him.  As far away as possible.  “No, I don’t believe you.”

“Jane, I know we’ve made some mistakes.  I know that our previous lives haven’t worked out the way I wished them to, but there has been a reason for all of it.  All that we have suffered in search of that perfect life has led us to this place.  It’s right within our grasp, my love, I can feel it.”

“Stop it, Loki!”  She shrunk back as much as she could.  It just wasn’t enough.  “You can’t do this anymore.  We have to go back-“

“Go back?”  His eyes flashed.  In an instant, Jane was on her feet.  He bent over her and she could see all the different colors running through his veins, from smoky red to glowing blue.  “Go back?  There is nowhere for us to go back to!  Don’t you understand what I’ve done for you, Jane?  What I’ve done to myself-” his veins pulse red one more time, “-to give you all that he never could?” 

 “But I didn’t ask for this!” she cried.  “I may have hated Thor for what he did to me, but I never wanted this… this lie you’ve created.”

“It’s not a lie!” He shook her.  “It is truth, Jane!  We make it truth.  Do not look me in the eye and say that you feel nothing for me.  You want a life with me as much as I want one with you, and this is our only way of getting it.”

“No, Loki, this isn’t real.  It was never real, and nothing you say or do is going to change that.”

All the furniture in the room flew through the air and collided, bursting into splintered pieces that rained down upon them.  They landed in a circle around Jane’s feet, but not a single granule had found its way into her hair, or his for that matter.  A circle of energy surrounded them, raising them inches off the ground, as the room and the hall and the sky outside all shifted and melded together, like a painting with the colors running.

“You are mistaken,” he said.  The melting background had lost all proper form and was unrecognizable.  The voices Jane had counted as a tether to all that he tricked her into believing were long gone, if they’d ever been there at all.  “Everything I say matters here.  This world is ours now, Jane, and it’s as real as anything you’ve ever seen.”

The circle closed in on them, invisible energy forcing Jane back into his embrace.  She fought for as long as she could, but she had long ago given up trying to control magic.  Some things just weren’t science, she was sorry to say.  Jane struggled regardless, as she had all the other times, and as she would every time that was to come.

“Loki,” she begged him.  “Please, no more.  I can’t take it anymore.”

“I know,” he said, with a kiss to her forehead.  “You couldn’t take it before.  That’s way I brought you here, to make you well again, to bring back the Jane I fell in love with.  Now that all is well, I think I finally know how to make a lasting life for us.”

“No, Loki, please-“

“Yes, this will be it.  This time, we’re going to get it right.”

And then they were falling.

“NOOOOO!”  Her voice merged with the roaring of the changing tides, gone in a flash and leaving her to nothingness.  The decaying room shattered, her form unraveled.  All was lost to her, but still she could think.

‘No! I won’t let you do this.  I won’t fall for it again, Loki.  I swear I won’t!

‘I have to remember it this time.  I have to remember that there’s nothing real… there’s nothing real... there’s nothing real!

 ‘Don’t forget, Jane, there’s nothing real! 

‘Don’t forget, Jane… Don’t forget… Jane…

‘Don’t… forget…

‘Jane…’

Jane…

Jane…

Jane?  Hey, Jane?  Wake up!

“I said, wake up!”

Jane sat up in her desk, an ungraded test on stem cell cloning stuck over her eyes, so she could only see the fuzzy shadow of the person standing over her.  She ripped off the test and read the first line.  She instantly knew this was one of her ‘not so overachieving’ students.  She’d deal with that later.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she said, rubbing the sand from her eyes.  “I was just resting before fifth period.”

“Uh-huh,” said Betty Ross, the new chemistry teacher, hired to replace an old retiree.  “Well, if fifth period is what you’re waiting for, you’re a little late.”

She displayed the time on her phone, and Jane took in the hour well after two in the afternoon with a plummeting heart.

“Oh God!”  She stood up so fast that her chair turned over, and frantically gathered the stack of lesson plans on her desk that she should have gone over last night.  “How did I mess up this badly?” 

Betty shrugged.  She was taking this much too lightly and Jane did not appreciate it.

“I guess field trip day will do that to you,” she said.

“Yeah, field trip day,” Jane repeated.  She continued her mad scramble for another few seconds, only to pause in the middle of arranging practice tests.  “Wait, today was field trip day?”

Betty pointed at the wall calendar, and the trail of black Xs that stopped right in front of the red starred day marked ‘AQUARIUM FIELD TRIP.’  It had a big circle around it with little squiggly lines forming another circle around the first one.  This was the day Jane had been looking forward to as the day to finally get caught up on all the work the sixty something students in her three classes had handed in since Monday.  Today was Wednesday.  She liked to have everything ready by Friday.

“Oh…” Jane dropped the stack of papers.  “Okay.  My brain is not working today.”

“Well, we all have those moments,” said Betty.

“No, really,” said Jane.  “I just had the craziest dream where I was working in some kind of a mental hospital, and one of the patients was after me.”

Betty winced.  “That does sound pretty bad.  Too many horror movies?”

“I don’t watch things like that,” said Jane as she grabbed her shoulder bag and stuffed her papers inside.  Now that she’d calmed down, getting them organized was a cinch. 

Betty waited by the door for her to finish packing up.  Afterwards, Jane locked the door to her office next to the counseling center and across from the science hall, and together they entered the halls of Genial North high school.

“I just need to grab a few things in my classroom,” Jane said. 

She led the way to the back of the science hall.  They passed the lab room where Betty taught her one class of the day.  Just another few months, and the school board would graduate her up to two or three.  Jane couldn’t wait to share the workload with her. 

They stopped in front of Jane’s room.  She let herself in and walked to the desk where her mess of pens and highlighters made a puzzle of finding just the set of red pens she wanted.  She also grabbed a few blank memo pads and a fresh eraser.  While she was there, she might as well get some stock for home.  She was always losing things in that bottomless pit she called a living room sofa.  One of these days, she was really going to have to pull the cushions off of that thing and do some digging.  She was bound to find a gold mine.

On her way back to the door, something caught Jane’s eye.  She turned to the blackboard.  It was scrubbed clean at the end of each day with soap and water to remove residue.  Maybe she was just a stickler for cleanliness, but Jane liked to have every edge and corner of the board spick and span at the end of each day.  If it wasn’t, she’d spend the next day checking for more chalk stains that she might have missed.

“Dammit, Darcy.”  Jane grabbed an eraser.

She held it over the already half removed words, pausing so her eyes could scan the disjointed letters.  For some reason, she felt compelled to try and make it out.

“Nnnn-nnnuh,” Jane furrowed her brow.

What remained of the message was ‘N t  ng r al.’  Just silly class clown scribbling from the look of it.  A single swipe of the eraser removed the offending words, and Jane put them far out of mind.

“I swear, I tell that girl every day to make sure the chalkboard is clean before she goes home,” Jane muttered to herself.

“Student teacher problems?” Betty asked.  It wasn’t the first time Jane had complained about her new ‘intern’ of sorts.  Darcy Lewis, while smart and passionate about learning, was hardly any better than the students half the time.  How she expected to teach high school kids herself in a few years, Jane didn’t know.

“Let’s just say, you’re lucky you weren’t eligible for one.”

Betty giggled, and Jane would’ve joined in were it not for the running man sliding into view.  He stooped over to catch his breath.  He must have sprinted all they way around the school to be this out of it. 

“S-sorry to bother you, Ms. Foster,” he said.  He stood up straight, and he was wearing a student teacher sticker on the breast of his shirt.  That figured.  All the teachers and most of the students would know better than to run in the halls. 

“Did you need something?” Jane asked.

He motioned to the left.  “Principal Selvig wants to see you in his office.”

“Right now?  Why?”

“I don’t know.  I’m just delivering the message.”

“Go on ahead, Jane,” said Betty.  She took backwards steps away.  “I’d come with, but I have a giant stack of tests at home with my name on it.”

“Okay, Betty, I’ll call you later,” said Jane.

“Right.  And don’t forget, we’re still on for drinks next week.”

“I know.”

Jane thanked the student teacher and left him and Betty.  She headed for the main office as he had designated and heard the back doors close as Betty left for the day.  She wondered when it was that they’d decided to go out for drinks.  She was going to have to try and sleep a more in the night and less in the day, because she couldn’t remember it at all.

Erik’s receptionist greeted Jane with a glance over her horn rimmed glasses and a momentary cease in typing.

“He’s expecting you,” she said.

Jane walked around the welcome desk to the door with Erik’s name on it. She found him standing by window overlooking the parking lot.  He told her once that he liked to look out on warm spring days like this one and reflect on his life, on the things he’d accomplished and the things he failed at.  Jane couldn’t imagine the latter category being longer than the former.  Erik was the most successful person she had ever known.

“Hi, Erik,” she said.

He turned around, his face breaking out in a grin.

“There you are,” Erik said.  He enveloped her in a big, bear hug.  “I was starting to think I’d missed you.”

“I had some extra work to finish,” Jane said with a surreptitious glance at the floor.  It was probably best not to let him know what she’d really been doing.

“Haha, that’s good.”  He drew back to his desk, placing a hand on the oak wood and stroking it fondly.  “I’ve just been having a moment alone in the old office.  Only a few more weeks before I have to let it go.”

“I still can’t believe you’re retiring,” Jane said, shoulders sagging.  “This place won’t be the same without you.”

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” said Erik.  “I’ve had thirty five years in this place.  I’m not looking for a thirty sixth.  I need that time to catch up on some sleep and practice my golf swing.  I might even try my hand at writing some books.”

“Yeah, but I’m going to miss seeing you every day.”

“Don’t worry, Jane,” he said.  “In a few months, you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Erik sat down, and Jane took that as her cue to follow suit.

“Anyway, the reason I wanted to see you is because the school board is sending the new principal down today to have a look around,” he explained.

Jane’s eyebrows shot up.  “They picked him already?”

It was no secret, in spite of Erik’s optimism for retired life, that his leaving had just as much to do with the superintendent wanting him out as it did Erik wanting out.  She’d never ask, but she was pretty sure that stepping down years before he was legally a senior citizen never would’ve occurred to him if he hadn’t been pushed so hard.  She’d think it all she wanted, though.

“They want him to get an idea of how thinks work around here before he takes over.  He’ll be observing us for the rest of the week.”

“And he’s coming right now?  That’s pretty short notice.”

“Apparently he wanted to get an early start,” said Erik.  “At least, that’s what I was told.”

There came a knock at the door.  Jane watched Erik’s face go from surprised to friendly in a tentative sort of way.

“Ah, speak of the devil,” he said, motioning behind Jane.  “Come on in, we were just talking about you.”

Jane turned her head, and her breath caught in her throat.  He was a little over six feet and slender, with slicked back black hair, green eyes, and a pale, handsome face.  He didn’t stand up straight; he had his hands in the pockets of his pants, leaning in an easygoing sort of way.  The suit itself was fitted and casual, with the jacket left unbuttoned and the tie missing.  Without it, Jane was forced to acknowledge the long lines of his neck above his collar, and how very nice they were.

“My apologies for being late,” he said.  “I had trouble finding my way.”

“Yeah, we need to do something about that entranceway.  I keep telling the board…” Erik grumbled for a few seconds more and then caught himself.  He chortled.  “But, I guess that’s not my problem anymore, is it?”

“Indeed,” said the man.  He removed his hands from his pockets, and they were very nice, too.  “I’ll have to act in your place to see that the matter is rectified.”

“You do that,” said Erik, getting to his feet.  He looked at Jane.  “Jane, I’d like to introduce you to the new school principal.  This is Mr.-“

“Loki, please,” the man interrupted.  “I prefer to go by my given name.  I hope that’s all right.”

He held one hand out for Jane to shake, his mouth tugging upward to reveal very nice straight, white teeth.  There were a lot of very nice things about him, though something about his demeanor had Jane thinking his personality wasn’t one of them.  Still, she felt an inexplicable pull to him and all of his better qualities.  He was really far too attractive for someone she was going to be working under. 

“That’s fine,” she said.  “I’m Jane Foster, a science teacher.”

“Really?  I am a student of science myself,” he said with a gleam in his eye that Jane couldn’t place.  “I’m sure we’ll get along swimmingly.”

He let go of her hand, which Jane had expected him to kiss along with her cheeks before doing the same to Erik.  It must’ve been the accent.  At the very least, it was nice to know that she was probably wrong about his character.  He seemed like a perfectly likeable guy, and Jane had a really good feeling about him now that the awkwardness of their introductions had passed.

“Looks like you too will have a lot to talk about,” Erik said, getting up.  “Now, I need to go meet with the vice-principal.  Would you mind showing Loki around, Jane?”

“Not at all,” she said.

Jane and Loki left the office with a goodbye to Erik and a nod at the receptionist.  Jane started the tour with the cafeteria.  No one was there at this hour, but her stomach was growling and they usually had trail mix in the vending machine.  While Jane fished through her pockets for spare change, Loki was examining the wide open space and the rows of rectangular tables.  Luckily, the janitors had been through here already.  The kind of messes the students left behind weren’t bound to make a good first impression

“I like this place,” Loki said.

“Yeah, and on Friday afternoons, they serve pizza,” said Jane.  She ripped open the bag and popped some peanuts into her mouth.

“I was referring more to the whole of it,” Loki said.  “I think it will serve me well.”

That was a weird sort of way to talk about a new job.  If Jane didn’t know any better, she’d think he was going to use Genial North as the base for some kind of world domination plot.  Wouldn’t that be something else?  If that was the case, he’d do better working at the private school five miles up the road.  They had private parking lots and everything.

“Have I said something funny?”

Jane hadn’t realized she was laughing at her own joke.  Now that she did, she couldn’t stop herself.  She blamed it on him.  He was far too blasé while scolding her.  He was going to be her boss in a month and he’d just caught her daydreaming on the job, but there wasn’t a hint of a harsh tone in his voice, and that was hilarious to her.  Just another part of his charm, she supposed.

“No, it’s nothing,” she said.  She met his eyes and kept staring, long after she should have stopped.  He had a particularly hypnotic gaze and it didn’t help that his eyes were his best feature.  “I’m just kind of surprised how… easy you are to talk to, if you don’t mind me saying.  I’m usually not this open with strangers.  You sure we haven’t met before?”

He looked up and out the window.  It was a beautiful day and the sun was bright and golden.  He seemed to like it a lot.  His stance was one of calm and surety.  It was a good look on him.

A smile crept up over his face, a look of contentment.

“In another time, maybe.”

THE END