Supernatural 1. Chapter 1

_**Where the Lines Overlap **_

_**...**_

**Chapter 1: A Rude Awakening**

* * *

It was dark out, little pinpricks of light dotting the night sky and the air was cold. Ashleigh shivered violently, goosebumps prickling her bare arms and cursed the fact that she'd left her jacket back in her apartment. Really, the one day she actually needed it, she left it somewhere. Typical, she snorted, rubbing her cold hands over her arms. It didn't seem to be helping, so she resigned to shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans simply to have something to do with them. A sharp gust of wind blew past her, ruffling her hair and pushing it over her face. Growling under her breath, she spat out a mouthful of blonde hair and began the long walk back to her apartment. In the dark. Just fucking perfect.

Her car had been totalled by some asshole who obviously couldn't drive and was down at the mechanics - after she'd had a good long argument with her insurance provider. So all in all, it was safe to say that she hadn't had a particularly good week. The street lights cast golden pools of light onto the wet sidewalk and when she stepped under one of the bulbs, it almost looked like she had her own halo of light. Ignoring the fact that angels probably didn't look like a soaked, pissy girl in a pair of ratty jeans who was freezing her ass off at eleven o'clock at night, she could almost kid herself into thinking that the golden light made her look… different. Almost beautiful.

She stayed frozen like that, gazing at her reflection in the shop window she was facing until another freezing current of wind snapped her out of her daydream - most likely caused by lack of sleep. Ashleigh was about to continue walking when she noticed two dark, stocky figures standing behind her, reflected in the glass. They were a good fifty metres away and they stood motionless, side by side, dressed in identical suits. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips nervously and she took a deep purposeful inhale, straightening herself up and beginning a quick walk down the pavement. Soon after, her ears picked up two more sets of heavy footsteps and swallowing heavily, she walked faster. Her boots clicked briskly against the concrete and she fought to keep herself from turning around and making eye contact with the two strangers.

But when the footsteps neared her, she gave in to her fight or flight instincts and began an adrenaline fueled sprint down the pavement. The heels of her boots kicked up water from the puddles and soaked the bottoms of her jeans, the heavy, damp fabric rubbing uncomfortably against her bare skin. She dared a quick look over her shoulder, blowing the hair out of her face and stopped short when she saw that nobody was following her.

"What the -" but she never got to finish that last breathless sentence because when she turned around, a fist clipped the side of her jaw. The force sent her sprawling to the pavement, and she tasted coppery blood filling her mouth before the lights faded out.

...

Trapped in darkness and terrified beyond words, Ashleigh jolted awake with a loud gasp, inhaling the warm, stale air deeply and gulping for air as if she had been drowning. But she couldn't breathe properly - a piece of cloth was shoved in her mouth, and she gagged and retched at it, trying to spit it out. She tried moving her arms to pull the cloth out, but rope chafed her wrists and she let out a pathetic sob, flopping back onto the wall. Why hadn't she left earlier? Maybe she would have avoided all this mess, and she might have been curled up at home, watching reruns of_ Friends_, bowl of popcorn in hand.

Which made her wonder, where was she? She blinked purposefully and tried to focus on the blurry shapes scattered in the darkness. The room she was trapped in was dimly lit, and she squinted her eyes to try and make out where she was, but agony twisted her stomach and she lolled forwards like a helpless ragdoll, tears streaming down her cheeks. Everything inside of her ached and she felt weak and lifeless. Her heart was beating too fast to be normal, her pulse throbbing in her ears. She wanted to be sick, her head was spinning and she couldn't form a coherent thought other than _oh God, I'm actually going to die, I'm going to DIE, what do I do?_

Her breathing hitched again and she coughed, choking on the ball of fabric shoved in her mouth. She wriggled around, jumping when she brushed against something warm, something that felt suspiciously like human skin. She let out a surprised "_Mmph!" _in shock and scooted away, breathing heavily, until she slammed back into the door. It rattled loudly and echoed around the small space, the sound reverberating.

She froze, eyes wide and tensed up. Curling back into the wall, she tried to remain hidden in the musty, warm darkness. Crates and boxes poked into her back uncomfortably, but she paid the slight twinges of pain no mind. She jerked suddenly, hearing voices near the door and held her breath, closing her eyes tightly. The sound of the door creaking open sent shivers down her spine and light, cold and fluroescent flooded the room. Ashleigh opened her eyes a crack and squinted against the blinding brightness. She bit down hard on the cloth to stifle a gasp of horror. At least five other people were in the room with her, bound and gagged, their heads lolling limply onto their chests, shoulders rising and falling slightly. As far as she could tell, she was the only one who was awake.

The black silhouette of a person was a stark contrast to the blinding white light and she watched with bated breath as one of the suited men stepped into the light.

"Which one should we take?" He turned, craning his neck to speak to someone else behind him, someone she couldn't see but was trying desperately to make out.

"Horus didn't specify," another male voice answered distractedly. "Just choose one."

Who was _Horus_? She questioned, and what the hell kind of name was that? Eurasian? South American? It didn't matter though, all that mattered was what did he want with her? What was he going to do?

"They don't look so good though," her gaze followed the man as he strode into the small storage room and knelt down, using a finger to tilt up the chin of one of the hostages - a middle aged man, his sallow frame swamped by his filthy black suit. He let out a thoughtful noise, clicking his tongue as he gingerly opened the unconscious man's mouth and peered down his throat - coming back up almost immediately with a disgusted expression on his face.

"None of them look terribly… well," he stated, licking his lips and biting on the inside of his cheek.

"Let me see that," the other voice huffed irritatedly and another man strode into the room, slightly shorter and rounded than the first one. He pried the man's jaw apart, made a slightly ill sound before rolling the hostage's sleeve up and pinching at the loose skin that seemed to be hanging off the man's bones. Ashleigh had to look away at that, biting down once again on the cloth to disguise the gagging noise coming out of her mouth.

He dropped the limb and it fell unceremoniously down by the man's side, dangling limply. She watched as the man stirred, shook his head and straightened up, eyes opening. "Wha - where am I? What d-do you want?" He gasped disorientatedly, though his dazed and confused demeanour soon faded away as he soon began to struggle against the ropes. His eyes wide with panic, he thrashed about on the ground, kicking and lashing out at the two suited men, "Lemme go! Lemme _go_! Lunatics!"

With a sigh, the round man cracked his knuckles and hit him solidly across the face. Ashleigh shrieked into the fabric, sobbing and scuttling on her hands and feet back into her corner of the room. She curled into a small ball against the wall, trying to make herself unnoticeable. The middle aged man fell to the floor, unconscious, a red handprint forming on the side of his face.

The taller man sighed with an air of frustration, "Did you really have to hit him?"

"What would you suggest? I lay him down to sleep with a blanket and a pillow?" The round man sounded affronted, snorting at the ludicrous idea.

The tall one chose to ignore the remark, standing up from his crouched position and straightening out his suit. He ran his hands over the arms, flattening out any visible creases. He surveyed the room with a disinterested air and when his eyes raked over her huddled up form, she shivered. "What should we do? They're all no good - Horus will not be pleased."

"Hang on," the round man straightened up, his finger on his chin thoughtfully. "A fresh one was brought in today - a human female, if I'm not mistaken. Maybe we could use her?"

More tears streamed down her cheeks, her stomach twisted painfully and she huddled further in on herself, terror pounding through her thoughts. What was she going to do? Could she try fighting them? The thought sounded appealing, her jaw still ached from where the bastards punched her and revenge sounded fun. What did she have to fight with? She was a hopeless puncher - the last time she hit someone, she broke her hand. That was embarrassing. Her hands were also tied behind her back, another negative. She didn't exactly have luck on her side.

"That's not a bad idea - Horus always prefers the fresh ones. Maybe we'd win his favor, move up the ranks." The tall man agreed contemplatively.

"Where is she, though? I can't see -" the short man squinted into the darkness, cursing loudly when the tall man slapped him across the back of the head.

"That's why you turn the light on, dumbass," the tall man replied snarkily, flipping the switch up with a click so white light flooded the room. She immediately became limp, lolling her head weakly onto her chest, her legs splayed awkwardly out in front of her, her body propped unevenly against the wall. Her eyes closed and she relaxed her mouth around the ball of fabric. Maybe if they thought she was dead then they wouldn't use her. They didn't appear to be the sharpest tools in the shed. Maybe they'd actually fall for it, buying her enough time to formulate an escape plan - oh God, they were coming closer, her pulse sped up erratically as if her own body was trying to betray her.

Cold hands slipped under her chin, trailed along her neck in search of her fluttering heartbeat. She struggled to remain still, lungs burning with the need to draw breath. A finger tilted her face up and she had no choice but to comply, letting her body flop like limp rubber and let the man press his hand flat across the side of her neck, searching for her pulse. _Get off me getoffgetOFFdontplease. _She felt the cloth leave her mouth and resisted the urge to inhale deeply. The cold metal of knife scraped the side of her palm as he clumsily cut the rope - pain smarting through her hand and something warm that felt suspiciously like blood dripped onto her leg.

"Ha!" He exclaimed, his face closer to her neck than she would have liked. His cold breath ghosted across her face, his cheek pressed to hers and she felt him smile widely. "This one's alive." An arm swept under her legs and she was being thrown over someone's shoulder carelessly, all the breath escaping her lungs as his shoulder rammed into her stomach. That was gonna leave a bruise.

The tall man - whose shoulder she was thrown over - followed the short, round man through the door into what appeared to be… a large stainless steel commercial kitchen. Pots and pans gleamed brightly, the stove top was free of grease and food scraps, it looked nothing like the kitchen she worked in back at the diner. Her eyes trailed past the endless rows of cooking utensils, rolling pins, knifes - wait. She could use those! She reached her arm out and grabbed a rolling pin, pulling her arm back and hitting him across the head with it with as much force as she could muster. He dropped her in surprise, she landed painfully on the linoleum and wasted no time in rolling to her feet and standing in a shaky attack stance.

"You little _bitch!_" the tall man grunted, straightening up and rubbing his head gingerly. She scrambled forwards and rammed the knife she was holding deep into his shoulder, taking advantage of his temporarily weakened state. He sucked in a deep breath, pulled the knife inch by inch out of his shoulder and wiped it clean on a dish rag.

"Stabbing you in the stomach and letting you bleed out on the floor seems like a tempting option, but I'll get much more satisfaction from watching Horus kill you slowly, rip you apart piece by piece and feed you to his guests as a main course!" He snarled, diving forwards to grab her.

She whimpered involuntarily, tried to duck his arms but he was faster and stronger. He tackled her to the floor and pinned her arms above her head with a large hand, holding tight enough to bruise. He pulled her up by her hair and she hissed in pain, swatting at his hands uselessly. He ignored her, dragging her along, his hand tangled in her hair. As they neared the door, she scooped up one of the knives on the floor and stowed it in her jeans pocket, almost stabbing herself in the thigh as she did so. He pushed the door open wide, hissing, "_Get up._"

Ashleigh glowered at him, but did as he asked, staggering forwards on shaky legs towards another suited man who was facing a large table of fancily dressed, regal looking people. Power and authority rolled off them in waves and the air smelled of ozone, electricity crackling through the atmosphere.

He turned to her, smiled widely. It wasn't a kind smile. It was a predatory, hungry smile which bared all of his sharp, white teeth. "Excellent," he said, his voice rich and gravelly. She shivered under his intense gaze, not meeting his eyes and instead focusing on the fact that she had a knife and she could possibly stab the cannibal freak right in the face. "Dinnertime."

He turned back to the audience of ten to fifteen people who had all pulled out white napkins - except for one. He wasn't as tall as most of them, dressed in an army jacket with pale golden eyes and brown floppy hair, and he regarded her with a sort of detached interest. She stared right back at him then bit her lips hard enough to draw blood as she noticed a faint, flickering shadow behind him. The silhouette of wings, large and wide spanned out across the room and he practically glowed with a righteous sort of powerful fury. She hadn't noticed that her mouth had dropped open slightly and that her head was tilted to the side slightly with confusion. His eyes reflected her confusion but settled into realization as he watched her eyes trace the shape of his wings.

Horus spread his arms wide and smiled again, though this time is it was a welcoming smile. He was talking to his equals, she noticed, by the respectful tone he used when he spoke to the room. "It's amazing to have so many powerful gods - and goddesses, no need to look so offended, Hera," he addressed a slightly affronted dark haired woman dressed in royal purple. It was only then that she noticed the peacocks that stood behind the woman's chair, still as statues, eyes cold and feathers gleaming. She shook her head numbly - first cannibalism, then holy shit gods and goddesses were real. When did her life become this mess? It didn't matter, she needed to run. Now. She licked her dry lips again and chewed on the inside of her cheek, frozen on the spot, her legs and arms not responding to her frantic thoughts.

"As I was saying," he continued. "It's a honor to have you all under my roof. It gives me the opportunity to make connections with you - now I know, we haven't all been the best of friends in the past." Horus cleared his throat sheepishly and straightened his tie.

_"Understatement of the century_," a regal looking old man whispered not-so-covertly to the golden eyed man who forced a smile, his eyes never leaving her. His intense eyes made her uneasier than she already was so she dropped her gaze to the marble floor. Her reflection showed her, gaunt and pale, blonde hair tangled and knotty, flowing out past her shoulders.

"But I would like to form the beginnings of a truce amongst us. We all know that the angels -" she watched his mouth form the word _angels, _it twisted as if he was saying something disgusting "-are growing more powerful and that we are - to use a common human expression - hopelessly, hilariously outgunned_. _If we all stick together, we may be able to reclaim the Earth once more."

She choked back a snort at the _Avengers _reference and the man standing at her right looked at her sharply before slapping her across the back of her head. Ashleigh gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, locking her jaw.

"Now, for the main course. Fresh human meat," he looked coolly at her, flicked a casual hand and forced her to her knees using some kind of telekinetic power. She clenched her teeth, sliding her hand along her thigh, and looked up at the dark haired god with a mixture of fury and terror.

He reached his hand out again to stroke the side of her face and the softness of the gesture surprised and frightened her. Her breathing hitched again and she trembled, wanting nothing more than him to stop touching her. When his hand trailed across the exposed slope of her neck, she gritted out sharply, "Don't touch me."

He blinked in surprise - obviously not expecting her to speak up, "So it speaks. How… _cute. _Unfortunately for it, that will not be the case for much longer." Her eyes flitted to the man with the gold eyes again, his expression showed panic and concern. Why, she didn't know. But somehow, looking at the silhouette of wings behind him comforted her and cleared her head.

When his hand closed around her neck, she drew the kitchen knife and plunged it deep into his thigh. Scrambling to her feet unsteadily, she jumped and grabbed one of the low hanging lights, pulling herself up and using her momentum to kick him solidly in the face. He stumbled back a few steps, spat out a mouthful of blood and reset his broken nose, wincing slightly and cursing under his breath. She locked eyes with the man again and he nodded silently, reaching out to shove the man sitting next to him, who looked at him angrily. He shrugged innocently and pointed to a dark skinned man beside him. The older man roared and tackled the dark skinned man to the floor, biting and clawing at any flesh he could reach. Soon after that, the room erupted into chaos.

Horus lunged for her ankle to pull her down, a cry of rage escaping his mouth but she used the last of her adrenaline rush to fling herself up over his head. Wasting no time in climbing to her feet, she ran through the room, dodging bits and pieces of furniture being thrown - it seemed that everybody was fighting now. The air was heavy with raw power and it crackled over her skin, making her tremble and shake. The dark haired god appeared in front of her so suddenly that she ran smack into his chest. He raised his fist to hit her and acting on pure instinct, she ducked behind a large, muscular man whose beard seemed to crackle with flames and embers. Horus' fist soared into the man's throat and he growled, grabbing the smaller god's face, hoisting him up into the air. "V-Vulcan, please," Horus wheezed pleadingly.

Vulcan said nothing, only threw the god to the opposite side of the room with a shocking amount of strength. A slightly sadistic grin split his face as he watched Horus sail through the air and crumple in a heap on the ground. "Fucking prick," he grunted roughly.

Ashleigh darted out of his reach before he could spot her and sprinted to the door, heart throbbing and her feet pounding against the marble. She was nearly at the door, she thought, only a few more steps and she would be free. She crashed into the door, pulling and pushing it in every which way, but it didn't seem to budge. A cross between a cry of despair and a sob burst out of her mouth but a hand on her shoulder made her jump and turn around, fists clenched by her side.

She relaxed when she saw the familiar silhouette of wings. He said nothing to her, only pressed his hand against the doors - which immediately burst open at his touch, glass shattering. She instinctively raised her arms up over her face in a futile attempt to protect her face. Wings - as she'd decided to name the man - was a few long strides in front of her, already beginning to make his way down the fire escape stairs. She made a move to follow him but something stopped her short - the other people trapped in the storage room. She couldn't just leave them there to die. She had to get them out, she had to save them.

After Wings noticed that she hadn't followed him, he spun on his heel, made an irritated face, "Sugar, we gotta go."

"Y-you go," she answered distractedly, craning her neck behind her. She wondered how long it would take her to make it back to the storage room - amidst the brawling, she doubted that anyone would notice her or bother to settle their millennium-long feuds in order to catch a pathetic, lowly human. Probably about a minute or two. "I'll be a few minutes."

"Uh, no. We're leaving, y'know_, vacating the premises. _Like now," he corrected her, liquid gold eyes flashing with something she couldn't quite identify.

She ignored him, turning sharply and sprinting back into the room, barely missing a piece of furniture that was lobbed over her head - presumably directed at a gorgeous redhead with a dangerous looking smile and mischievous green eyes. She howled with rage, green fire licking up her arms and at the hem of her black dress, held out her palm and directed a bolt of pure green fire at an older, greying woman who - Ashleigh had to look twice to make sure this actually happened and her mind wasn't playing tricks on her - turned into a small tabby cat to duck the blast and hissed, batting a paw tipped with sharp claws.

Horus still hadn't moved from his crumpled heap on the floor, blue eyes glassy and blood trickling from his mouth. _Good, _she thought with grim, cold satisfaction and pushed the doors to the kitchen open, jogging across the linoleum and bursting through the doors to the storage room. Fuck, it was dark, where was the goddamn light switch - there. There it was. She smacked it hard with her fist and the fluorescent lights flickered back on.

Dashing to the first person she saw - a woman around her age - she gripped the lapels of her jacket and shook the woman, "Wake up, dammit, come _on_." When she saw that nothing else seemed to be working, she raised her hand and slapped the woman straight across the face. _Sorry, _she thought, looking regretfully at the new red hand-print on her face. A cheek muscle twitched, then her eyes rolled underneath her eyelids, fingers jerked.

"Wh-what? Where am I? What's going on?" The woman began to hyperventilate, hysteria clouding her features. Panicked sobs escaped her throat and her breathing hitched, she choked and spluttered on her own breath. "Don't hurt me, please, I'll give you my wallet…"

"No time for that now. I'm gonna get you outta here, I promise," she said reassuringly, looking around for another escape hatch or whatever. You couldn't blame her - she'd only seen things like this in the cinema. She was going off all the action movies she'd seen as a kid. Hey, fiction had to have some amount of truth ingrained in it, right?

"Not alone, you're not," another voice came from behind her and Ashleigh jolted up, jerking around to meet the Wings' eyes and his expression was a strange mixture of admiration and irritation. He crouched down beside her and touched the woman's forehead, and she watched, gormless as the woman flickered and… _disappeared into thin air. _Her mouth dropped open and she whipped around to face him, gaping and stammering.

"W-what the hell did you _do _to her?" She asked accusingly, stuttering and crawling back on her hands and knees to get away from him. He just _touched _that woman and did God knows what to her! Where did she go?

"Relax, sweetheart, I sent her back to her home. She won't remember a thing," he promised and something in his expression caused her to obey and relax, swallowing hard and sitting down.

"C-can you do the rest of them?" Her voice was shaky as she pointed in the general direction of the other tied up people.

Wings grinned cheekily, eyes twinkling and snapped his fingers, winking at her as slowly all the people faded out of the room, "Done." He straightened up from his crouch and stuck out his hand to her. Surprising herself, she took it, and hoisted herself up.

"Thanks," she managed, avoiding his intense golden gaze and sanding her hands on her jeans simply to give herself something to do. Pushing her hair behind her ears, she chanced a glance at him, chewing on the inside of her cheek - a habitual gesture she'd developed over the years of suffering social awkwardness. It wasn't her fault - really. Well, okay, maybe it was, but she couldn't help not being as socially developed as the rest of her limited friends.

He grabbed her hand, twining his fingers with her own, his hands slightly calloused and rougher than hers, "Now can we get outta here?"

"S-sure," she replied breathily and then she was gone.

...

They appeared somewhere on a dock near an abandoned shipping warehouse, Wings landing gracefully on his feet as if it were as natural as breathing. She, however, wasn't so lucky. Somewhere along the way, she'd let go of his hand and landed in the water with a loud and completely humiliating splash. S_hit shit shit - _Ashleigh scrambled around for the ladder, desperate to get out of the water and on to stable land. The cold of the water, shocking her out of her stupor, was enough to kick start her survival instincts and help her find her way to the ladder and haul herself up. he collapsed on the dock, shivering and sopping wet, coughing and retching. Her head was spinning and she felt as if she'd left her stomach back at the - well, she didn't quite know where she'd just been. Hotel? That sounded about right. Nausea wrenched her abdomen and she hunched over, coughing out acidic bile that burned the back of her throat.

She'd always hated ports and docks and all that shit. The smell was enough to drive her insane - hot salt water. It reminded her of her old sailing camp days when she continually got hit in the face with the boom and broke her nose. And then she'd gotten out of the boat, far too scared to even think about sailing that tiny little thing across the massive lake. Even the thought was enough to encourage her to spit out another mouthful of bile. She was shivering, wet jeans sticking to her skin and rubbing enough to cause blisters. Her shirt clung to her torso tightly and her hair was plastered to her forehead and face with sweat and sea water. Too weak to pull herself up, she tried flicking her head back and blowing at the unruly strands plastered against her face.

Footsteps neared her but Ashleigh didn't notice. She was too busy trying not to barf up a lung. A warm hand rubbed her back soothingly, "Hey, kiddo, it's okay, shh." The hand brushed her hair away from her forehead, carding through the damp tangled locks gently. She lifted one of her arms up from the dock and wiped her mouth on the back of her wrist.

Gripping the forearm of the hand that was still stroking her hair - damn, it felt nice to have someone do that to her. It reminded her of home, of care, of tenderness. Tenderness she hadn't felt in a long time - she tried to pull herself up, but her legs gave out from underneath her and she collapsed into a chest. An arm swept under her knees and settled her in a pair of warm arms. Acting on instinct, she gripped the lapels of the army jacket she was pressed against and pressed herself closer to the source of heat currently seeping into her. Right now, she didn't' care that she hardly knew him. She was cold, wet and tired. Screw boundaries.

When she looked up, she met a pair of warm, molten eyes that reminded her of maple syrup. Concern was etched onto Wings' face, concern that made her smile because he hardly even knew her and he was being this nice. Through her squinted eyes, she made out what appeared to be a halo of yellow-gold light circling his head, shining light onto his floppy brown hair, creating a golden backdrop for him to stand against.

"Next time, could you give me at least thirty seconds to prepare myself when you're gonna teleport me somewhere? I-I think I left my stomach back along the way somewhere," she grumbled almost incoherently. How he even understood what the hell she was saying was a miracle in itself.

Ashleigh felt his chest rumble and vibrate with laughter, "Sure thing, princess. I didn't know you'd react quite so, er, _violently _to the experience - I mean, most people seem to be okay after it."

"Well, I guess I'm just a special snowflake then."

"So cynical," he chuckled, beginning a leisurely walk along the dock, her body held securely in his arms. She tried to lift herself up, wriggling in his hold and he stopped to look down at her, brow raised. "Something wrong?"

"I don't need to be carried," she huffed. Her pride had been wounded and a blush began to stain her cheeks. The last thing she needed was to be perceived as needy and desperate by a total stranger.

"If you say so, kiddo." Wings set her down gently, making sure that she was planted firmly on her two feet before slipping his arms away from her. Ashleigh swallowed hard, held her head high, wobbling ever so slightly on her shaky legs. She glanced back at him; he was gazing at her expectantly with a brow cocked and his arms crossed over his chest. She scrunched up her nose and pulled a face at him - to which he laughed at.

_Fine. _She made to step forwards but her legs wobbled and her stomach heaved - her entire body pitching forwards and she grabbed the handrail to balance herself. The only other downside of that was that the handrail was wet and slippery and her hand slid forwards and she collapsed. Again. There were patches of dirt all over her jeans and she groaned - these were her only good pair! The other two pairs had holes on the knees and the bottoms were frayed. Ashleigh had tried to stitch them up, but had ended up poking her fingers with the needle until she'd bleed all over the fabric and had finally admitted defeat.

"Shut up," she muttered, an embarrassed flush burning up her cheeks.

His shoes made loud noises on the deck and he walked over to her, thumbs hooked in his pockets and bent down. When he moved to slide an arm under her shoulder, she noticed how he smelled sweet - like cinnamon and sugar. Wings helped her to her feet, his arm around her waist and her arm slung over his shoulders. Most of her weight rested on his shoulders and she leaned against him, taking cautious steps and trying not to throw up again.

"Come on, I'm gonna take you back to my place. You can have a shower, some food - whatever. Get your strength back," he said, looking back at her to make sure she was okay.

Acutely aware of his arm tight around her waist, she began to chew on her lip nervously and look anywhere but in his eyes, which seemed to be twinkling with mischief. His touch sent shivers down her spine and electric shocks through her veins and what worried her was that she didn't know _why._ She'd only just met the guy - if he even was a guy. The thought made her stop short in her tracks, eyes wide with fear.

"You're a god, aren't you." It wasn't a question.

He stopped, looking at her curiously, "Well, yeah. Course I am, why else do you think I was there?"

She raised an eyebrow questioningly, "How do I know that when we get back to your house you're not going to, I don't know, eat me or something? Your, uh, _friends _back there seemed pretty eager to turn me into godly chow."

"Sugar, I just probably made enemies out of everyone in that room. If I wanted to eat you, I wouldn't go to all that trouble. 'sides, I don't even like the idea of eating people. It's gross. " he pulled a face and shuddered, rummaging in his pocket to pull out a lollipop and stick it in his mouth.

She shrugged, "It was a legit question - don't look at me like that." His expression was slightly wounded and his eyes were wide. "Normal, sane people don't run off with people they just met," she added as the thought occurred to her, her tone mild and contemplative.

"I just saved you from a bunch of crazy gods, you're welcome for that, by the way," he pointed out to her around the lollipop in his mouth. His eyebrows drew together and he let out a thoughtful sound, "Huh. These aren't too bad - want one?"

"Sure," she accepted and he handed her a piece of the candy from one of the many pockets in his large army jacket, unwrapping it and shoving the plastic in a pocket. She sucked on the candy and said, muffled, "I see what you mean. These are pretty good, although I normally don't go for artificial fruit flavoring. I kinda like the real thing."

"What?! Fruit flavoring is the best - what planet have you been _living _on? Strawberry is the best one, though," he pointed out with a mock-serious expression on his face. "Grape is just _nasty_, ew," he shuddered.

"Are you kidding me?" she argued back, "Normally all fruit flavoring is totally gross - granted, with the exception of this. I've said it before and I'll say it again - chocolate is clearly better."

He sighed loudly, "You're delusional, woman. De_lu_sional, I say."

Making wonderful use of the many years she'd had to develop a good level of maturity, she stuck her tongue out at him childishly and shot back, "Look how much I care!"

There was a slightly awkward beat between the two as Wings helped haul her over to the shipping warehouse door so, in a weak attempt at conversation, she started, "So, who are you?"

"Huh?" He jerked his head back to face her. Warm eyes searched her face.

"Are you, I dunno, Zeus? Ra? Aphrodite?" The last one was a joke - albeit a bit of a pathetic one, but it made him laugh and shake his head fondly. That was when she decided that she really, _really _liked his laugh. It was just… _nice_, bubbly, infectious - everything a laugh should be (yeah, she was delirious, but she was enjoying her silly high.) "I'm not that, ah, well versed in mythology."

"Nah, that's cool. Me? _I _am the fabulous Trickster - yeah, yeah there are others, but those pricks, Eris, Huehuecoyotl -"

"Huehue who?" She could feel her face scrunching up in confusion. She recognised Eris but not Huehu - whatever, she wasn't even going to try.

"Yeah, he's a total douche, don't worry about him," he dismissed the god with a casual flick of his hand. She flinched - the most recent time someone had done that, they'd telekinetically forced her to the floor and prepared to eat her alive. So it was an understatement to say that she wasn't particularly thrilled at someone using it against her again. That would suck. "Kiddo, they've got nothing on me. No class, no style," he tutted disapprovingly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"Well, that's great and all but how do I know this isn't a trick?" She asked seriously as they stopped in front of a door, the black paint peeling off and the fading white letters reading something that looked like _OFFICE._

"Why would I do that?" he answered her question with a question of his own, honestly confused at her words. Ashleigh barely kept herself from heaving a sigh and rolling her eyes.

"Well, I don't know, maybe because you're the _Trickster?_"

"Huh," Wings responded thoughtfully. "Well, there is that but I guess you'll have to suck it up and trust me, tiger."

"And why in the name of God should I do that?" Ashleigh snapped back, placing her hands on her hips and stepping away from his arms into the light rain - which wasn't probably the smartest idea considering she was already soaked with salt water and still pretty nauseous, but like hell was she ruining her badass (sort of) moment by indirectly admitting that she'd done something stupid and step back under the roof.

"Uh, because I got you outta there?" He said as if it should be obvious - he was only one 'uh, duh' away from getting a fist in his face. His brows drew together in confusion and his lips twisted in a nervous smile.

"Yeah, maybe because you want to take me to your little Batcave and eat me like your friends back there, I'm not as dumb as I look, you know," she tacked on the end and crossed her arms across her chest tightly.

"I already said I didn't like the idea of eating people! Jesus, woman," he muttered and turned away from her, the yellow cloud of light surrounding his head casting light onto the door. She squinted against the brightness.

"You're the Trickster. It's practically in your job description to be a liar," she commented offhandedly, not expecting him to turn around, eyes cold and angry and his fists clenched at his sides.

"_Don't_" he nearly growled. "I'm not a -" he seemed to cut himself off, looking at the ground with an immeasurable sadness twisting his expression until it made her heart clench with sorrow for him. "I'm _not_, " it didn't sound like he was talking to her anymore. His head was bowed and rested against the door, his chin tucked in and his eyes boring a hole in the wet concrete. Then, as if some switch had flipped in his head, the Trickster raised his head and swallowed heavily. She cautiously watched his Adams apple bob in his throat and his expression slowly change to a careful blank façade.

He turned back to her, gold eyes saying nothing of the display he'd shown a few seconds prior and forced a smile. It was obvious in the set of his mouth that it wasn't genuine and it made her uncomfortable, chewing on the insides of her cheeks and refusing to meet his eyes. They waited in under the small shelter the roof over the door gave them awkwardly. He kept shuffling his feet and she hooked her thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans to try and make herself appear more confident.

Lightning crackled and a bolt of white illuminated the sky, flashing against the walls. She stifled another gasp as a large pair of wings flashed behind his back, only for a second, and he looked regal, righteous and intimidating. Averting her eyes - it didn't seem _right _to look at them, she didn't know why - to the roiling water, she kept her gaze away from him steadily. Wind tickled her arms and face with freezing fingers and she didn't realize her teeth were chattering until she heard a _tap-tap-tapping _noise.

Against her more rational thoughts, her eyes flitted to Wings and watched as he licked his lips nervously and said, "C'mon, kiddo. I don't bite," and this was where his expression became playful and she knew that he was back to joking. "Very hard."

Ashleigh poked her tongue out at him, silently accepting the proffered metaphorical olive branch. He twisted the doorknob , wincing as it creaked - "Gonna need to WD-40 this". His arm was outstretched teasingly and a smirk twisted his lips, "After you, mademoiselle."

"French," she said curiously. "Huh."

"You speak it?"

"Eh, I did it all through high school - never really remembered any of it though. I guess I can kind of read it but if you ask me to hold a conversation with someone, er, yeah, how about we don't go there," she grimaced. In her high school, she'd learnt European French - which might sound weird, duh, French comes from France which is in Europe, dumbass, but when she tried having a conversation with someone who spoke Canadian French (hey, she didn't know that! He said he spoke French!) she'd asked him if his shoe was green and he replied saying that her beef was sad. So, to put it simply, she stuck to English. "How 'bout you?" she asked.

"Un petit peu," he responded after a moment of thought.

"A… little bit?" The translation was rough, especially considering the last time she'd opened her French textbook was in senior year when she was frantically studying for her French exams. He started, holding the door open for her and waiting for her to step inside before venturing in. She stopped by the door, gazing warily ahead into the darkness. She wasn't quite sure what she'd find - he'd already insisted that he didn't eat people, although she was still a little skeptical. If worst came to worst, she - huh. She didn't know what she was going to do if that happened. Nice one, Ashleigh, she mentally patted herself on the back. Good going.

"Bingo!" Ha answered, a little late, so for a second she had no idea what he was talking about. The lights turned on slowly, the golden glow brightening enough to reveal the luxuriously decorated interior. Spacious and dripping with what one could think of as the finer things in life, the space took her breath away. Marble floors scattered with expensive looking Persian rugs showed her distorted reflection, wet and bedraggled, looking somewhat like a sewer rat - she really was kind to herself. The thought made her snort humorlessly He watched her drink in the sights and tilt her head up to admire the chandelier, glittering and reflecting beams of light. He clicked his fingers and the doors shut behind them and the empty fireplace stacked itself with kindling and bits of wood, roaring to life within seconds.

She heard him snicker when she jolted at the sudden blaze of the fire. He sauntered past her, boots leaving muddy footprints on the spotless marble and settled himself down in an armchair close to the fire. Ashleigh didn't follow him, instead she traipsed over to the large bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. Biting her lip and tucking her hair behind her ears, she traced the tips of her fingers over the spines of the books, entranced. She loved reading, anything and everything. Ashleigh devoured books like a thirsty man would water, but she read weirdly. Sometimes she'd read four books a day or she wouldn't read for four months. Weird.

Selecting a book titled _"An Index of Gods and Goddesses in Mythology" _she flipped it open to the contents page, fingers spread wide across the back of the book to hold it open. Footsteps stopped behind her, "What're you reading?" He asked nonchalantly, leaning against the bookshelf.

"I just remembered, I don't actually know your name," she muttered distractedly, leafing through the pages carefully. As she lowered herself down to the floor, she didn't expect a beanbag to suddenly pop out from underneath her. A shriek escaped her lips as she sunk into the red fabric, her expression settling into half disgruntled, half playful.

"Beanbags? It's not really fitting with the décor," she noted, ignoring his chuckles decidedly.

"You're right," he mused thoughtfully. A snap of his fingers later and the entire room was changed into what looked like the flashiest games room she'd ever seen, complete with a massive pool table, huge TV screen and beanbags scattered everywhere. Something soft and soothing played in the background, the flashy chandelier changing to a disco ball. "Much better." Wings settled himself down into a beanbag next to her and peered over her shoulder, letting out small sounds of approval or disapproval when she reached certain people.

She traced her finger down the lines of text, humming to herself quietly. "Aha!" she crowed, setting the book down and fist pumping.

He looked over from where he had been idly flipping through a magazine, "Huh? Find something? Do tell,"

"You're Hermes, aren't you?" She blurted out excitedly, it all made sense, the description fitted him okay -

"Nope." he shook his head, smiling mischievously, "Take another shot."

Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth thoughtfully, Ashleigh turned her focus back to the book at hand and studied the text harder. Now she was determined to find out who he was. Growing bored with her slow pace, he reached over, pinched a thick stack of the papers and flipped them over. She looked up at him, irritated and tried to elbow him in the ribs. He ducked before her arm connected with his torso - damn, he was fast, she conceded grudgingly.

"What? What'd you do that for?"

"At the rate you were going, it'd take forever. Consider this my one and only hint," he shrugged, settling back into his beanbag and propping his chin up with his fingers.

She gazed unseeingly at the heading of the page for a few seconds, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. _L. _That was the heading, one big swirly letter on the top of the page. And then it all clicked.

"L-Loki? Right? Thor's brother?"

"Ten points to Gryffindor!" He crowed smugly. "Finally!"

"Loser!" She shoved him off his beanbag grumpily. "No thanks to you." Tacked on as an afterthought, the quip made him grin.

Wings - no, Loki (she's gotta remember that) scrambled back up onto his bean bag in a disgruntled fashion, settling himself back down with a rustling noise. His expression was just so, well, _ungodly _that it made her drop the book on her knees - ouch, that hurt like a _bitch - _and burst out giggling at his expression. Eyebrows knitted, mouth pursued and nose scrunched up, he was the picture of a grumpy toddler. The mental image made more laughter bubble from her lips. Tears streamed from her eyes as she gasped for breath - kind of like a fish out of water, body jerking violently and air spluttering out of her lips.

She exhaled shakily and tried to calm herself down, soothe her shaking stomach. Loki regarded her warily, exaggeratedly shifted his beanbag away from her and commented from behind his magazine, "Damn, kiddo," his pale gold eyes glittered, "you're hysterical."

"I-I think the shock's _f-finally _worn in," she spluttered.

"What do you mean?"

"Dude!" Ashleigh threw her arms up in the air exasperatedly. Loki watched on with a raised eyebrow and chose not to say anything, so she continued, "I just found out gods _are real_. Do you know how_ fucked up_ that is? They tried to_ eat_ _me alive_! Does that mean that other shit exists too? Like," she grappled for words and understanding in vain. Finally she threw her hands up in the air and gave in. "Hell if I know. Wait -" she turned to him with wide eyes and parted lips. "Does Hell exist too?"

He licked his lips with an air of nervousness before slowly nodding. Ashleigh groaned and flopped back on her beanbag, exhausted,"Seriously?" Holy crap. Hell was real? Did that mean Heaven was too? Where would she go? She'd never done anything particularly good or bad in her life, she wasn't Gandhi or Mother Teresa. Maybe there was a place for neutral people - like in Greek mythology. The Asphodel Meadows, she recalled. The thought of going there made her shiver - she'd read about the souls that wandered there for all eternity, lost and completely blank. It might actually exist, considering the Greek and Norse gods existed, places like Olympus, Asgard, the Underworld and God forbid, Tartarus might actually be real. The thought made her shiver and swallow heavily.

Loki nodded again.

"Maybe I should reconsider being agnostic," she said, muffled by the beanbag, not feeling like she wanted to move at all. Pulling herself up into a seated position and wriggling around on the beanbag, she rubbed the heels of her palms into her eyes until splashes of color flashed across her vision. He patted her back awkwardly - well, more like thumped her on the back, but she wasn't about to make him feel awkward. Then that wouldn't be good.

"So," he cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Do you want a shower, or what…?"

She licked her lips, then shrugged. "Sure." What was the worst that could happen? Then she bit her lip and decided that she didn't want to know the answer to that question.

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, hey everyone! So, this is my first ever SPN fic (exciting!). If you guys think it's any good, I'll continue! It's not going to be a big long epic saga, it's going to be a light, fluffy little fic which explores the relationship between our favorite Trickster and Ashleigh. The title is from one of my favorite Paramore songs, _Where the Lines Overlap. _So, please tell me what you think! I'm dying to know. :) **


	2. Chapter 2

_**Where the Lines Overlap**_

…

**Chapter 2: Venice Queen**

* * *

Ashleigh stepped out of the shower, pink from the hot water and with a white fluffy towel clutched tightly around her waist. Now there was the question – what was she going to wear now? Her jeans and shirt were covered in salt water and had chafed uncomfortably against her skin. They'd also probably just shrunk about two sizes so like hell was she putting them back on. She licked her lips nervously, pulling the towel tighter around her and gazed back into the massive mirror that spanned a whole wall. She looked really small compared to the cavernous bathroom.

Her blonde hair was smooth now, she'd yanked all the tangles out in the shower and it smelled _awesome_ - like coconuts or something. It reminded her of Hawaii or something, well, not that she'd ever really been to Hawaii. Her face was red, her cheeks flushed pink and the bags under her eyes looked a little less pronounced. She flipped her head down and began to rub her hair dry with the towel, simply to prologue the inevitable of having to go out in a towel and ask Loki for clothes - something she _really_ should have thought of earlier.

Then the absurdity of the situation hit her and she began to giggle hysterically, clapping a hand over her mouth and tears streaming from her eyes. She'd nearly been eaten by a god, been rescued by _another _god and was now about to wander out of the shower in nothing but a towel and ask said god for clothes. That sort of stuff didn't happen to people like her, normal people - okay, so maybe she wasn't normal. Well, unless generally disliking most people counted as normal. But she was pretty sure that it wasn't and that she, Ashleigh Waldenberg was considered anti-social. Who would have known? (Thought with as much sarcasm as one's internal voice can muster.)

Yeah, it was true that she'd prefer to re-watch season 5 of Grey's Anatomy or the Friends reruns that were still playing on TV than go on that date she owed that regular customer back at the diner. He was funny, smart, kinda cute with his mop of messy brown curls, big doe-brown eyes and bronzed skin. Hell, they even liked similar music! She'd come to work one day wearing a Kodaline shirt under her apron and he'd grinned, revealing white teeth, and told her that she should really check out _Oblivion _by Bastille. Said that it 'seemed like her kind of song'. And it really had been - she loved it. Then she'd come back, telling him that it had been great and he'd given her a USB of his own music, stuff he and his band had actually recorded. He'd invited her to one of their gigs on a date and blushing furiously, she'd stammered out an excuse about needing to go back and check the espresso machine.

Ashleigh guessed that she liked him but frankly, she was too scared to do anything about it. Some small niggling voice in the back of her mind continually told her that it was most likely some joke, as soon as she leant in for the kiss and puckered up, that he'd draw back, smirking and ask her why she thought anyone would be interested in her.

Her expression sobered from the silly smile she'd been wearing previously and she thought wryly, deep thoughts in the bathroom of all places? How much weirder could the day get? Then she decided she probably didn't really want to know the answer to that. The water trickling from her wet hair down her back was beginning to make her shiver, goose bumps rising across her bare flesh. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, she slipped back into her sarcastic, cynical attitude that drove people away and made sure they stayed away.

She opened the door cautiously, peeking out from around it to make sure the coast was clear, and there wasn't anyone there to see her in a towel - yeah. Her self-esteem really wasn't that high. She supposed that she'd filled out a little more since junior high – when she'd hit her emotional all time low. After looking left and right quickly, she tightened the towel around her torso and made sure it wasn't riding too high up on her thighs.

It was odd that she hadn't seen Loki yet. After all it _was _his house – well, if you could even really call it a house. It was more like a mansion, from what she'd seen of it. It changed according to whatever the cheeky god desired and with a snap of his fingers he could change it to something completely different. She liked how it looked now. The interior of the abandoned warehouse had been set up like a colossal games room and beanbags replaced most of the furniture.

Ashleigh was pretty sure she could see a pool table tucked over in the corner. Someone's finger poked into her shoulder and she yelped, nearly dropping her towel and scrambling to pick it up just as quickly.

Loki grinned back, amused and offered a stack of clothes in his right hand, "Well. I wouldn't have offered you clothes if I'd known I'd enjoy the view this much, sugar." He grinned at her teasingly in response to the fiery red blush crawling up her cheeks, tormenting her. Glaring at him and poking her tongue out, she snatched the pile of clothes away and held it tight.

"Thinking with our upstairs brains, please," she muttered, refusing to meet his molten honey gaze. The towel slipped again, nearly exposing her fairly unimpressive chest and she looked up accusingly, stabbing an index finger at him. "That was you, wasn't it? Stop it, dude!"

He backed off and held his hands up in a peace gesture, gazing at her questioningly, mockingly, a small grin twisting his mouth, "What was me?"

"My towel slipped, like half way down my chest." She looked at him pointedly with this completely unimpressed expression on her face, raising her eyebrows and glaring at him.

"Oh. That." Loki let a full blown grin expose white, straight teeth and he winked at her cheekily before proceeding to look as innocent as the day he was born. Which was probably like four thousand years ago – damn, he was old!

"Yeah. _That_." She agreed, no longer annoyed but trying to keep up the façade of irritation – and failing spectacularly. In the short time that she'd known Loki, very _very _short time, might she add, she'd discovered that it was particularly difficult to remain mad at him for too long. "So. Can I, um, get dressed now? Me being in a towel might be enjoyable for you but it's so not for me."

"Aw, do you have to?" he whined. A smile twisted his lips at her furious blushing and he reached out with a hand and brushed a lock of wet hair off her shoulder almost tenderly. When his hand brushed across the exposed slope of her neck, a trail of goose bumps followed where his hand had touched.

Embarrassed and confused by her body's weird response to him, Ashleigh smiled tersely in thanks and darted back off to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her and dropping the pile of clothes to the floor and sinking down so she was resting against the door.

Well. That had been sufficiently _excruciating_. She'd nearly flashed him twice – granted, one of the times was _his _fault but that didn't make it any less embarrassing. And most of all she wondered why the urge to punch him in the face hadn't shown up once. Probably because she was shit at punching things and it was some sort of long buried self-preservation instinct finally kicking in? Punching someone had led to a broken hand which had been more than embarrassing and had totally ruined her badass moment. Which she was less than pleased about.

Loki seemed to be the most laid back of all the gods she'd nearly been eaten by, she observed thoughtfully. They'd all seemed to be fueled by some sort of righteous dignity, all far too proud to get along for more than a short amount of time. They had all basically been having a fight about the tiniest offenses and she couldn't help but wonder how the hell Horus had gotten them all to agree to meet him there. There'd been throwing and fighting which made her wonder how that many pagan gods were actually even alive if they all hated each other. It seemed like Horus had been the leader of the bunch but nobody had really listened to him and thought he was a pompous idiot.

Which he was and Ashleigh wholeheartedly supported that statement. But not because he'd tried to eat her – well, maybe a little bit but for God's sake, he'd tried to fucking _eat _her. She was going to be pissed at him for a long, long time. It was just the way he'd spoken both to her and the surrounded crowd of deities that had made her shiver with a mixture of wanting to kick him in the family jewels and run far, far away from him. Haughty, superior. It made her go red with annoyance.

Ashleigh cut that train of thought off and looked down at the pile of clothes. Shrugging, she sifted through the fabric. Tights, a pretty skater dress with a floral pattern and a sweetheart neckline, two thick straps protruding from both sides and a pair of classic black pumps. They didn't look like anything she'd wear normally but it did look like something she'd wear out.

So, the question occurred to her, where were they going? Weren't they staying in, wasn't he taking her home? She swallowed as the thought flashed through her mind – did she really want to go home? Or did she want to stay with Loki?

Because she was cold and being in a towel wasn't the most practical attire, she began to slip the underwear and tights on. Yanking the dress over her head and mussing up her wet blonde hair, Ashleigh found that she couldn't do up the zipper because her arms weren't that flexible and groaned aloud upon realizing that she'd have to go ask Loki for help. Great. She slipped the pumps on one by one and took a minute to centre herself.

She called out, "Hey, Loki?"

A few seconds later, something jabbed the sensitive spots on each side of her waist and she shrieked, jumping and batting his hands away. Yes, she was ticklish. She hated to admit it and wished that Loki hadn't found out because she was never going to hear the end of this now. Turning around, Ashleigh shoved him in the chest grumpily and he stepped back a couple feet, chuckling.

"Ah, you're hilarious, kiddo."

"Well, I'm glad I make such quality entertainment," she shot back, trying not to notice how his golden eyes were almost liquid, flowing between amber and dark, deep gold. It was a really pretty color, she conceded grudgingly. If only he had some ridiculously ugly eye color, like puke or something. It would make dealing with him so much easier.

He rolled his eyes and never lost the cheeky smile, "You look good," his eyes scanned her frame quickly, lingering on her face for a few seconds, "I mean it."

"Yeah, uh, thanks," Ashleigh didn't really know how to respond to that. So she took a stab and prayed to whatever god that was listening that her face didn't turn tomato red again. Unfortunately, she'd obviously made enemies of most of the gods at that stupid convention or whatever so she still felt heat creeping up her cheeks. "You wanna do me a favor and help me zip the back up?"

"Sure," he licked his lips carefully and gathered all her hair up, bunching it on top of her head so none of it would get caught in the zip. After a second, he turned her back around and beamed with white teeth at her.

"So, uh, what's with the dress and the shoes? Aren't they a little fancy for staying in, don't you think?" she asked, peering down at her tall black pumps.

"Who says we're staying in?" Loki questioned, raising an eyebrow and letting that smirk spread wider over his face. His gold eyes glittered.

"O-_kay_… so, er, where're we going?" Ashleigh stuttered at the conformation of what she'd been previously thinking. But what had happened to him taking her home? She kind of missed her apartment and the diner, even though she hadn't even been away from it for that long, although she conceded that going out with a Norse god would probably be a lot more exciting. All that she hoped was that they weren't going to the zoo or something. She couldn't stand the zoo. The smell of animal crap got to her and the reptiles section, oh, the _reptiles _section. Shudders ran down her spine at the thought of the long, muscular bodies of the snakes, curving and coiling around their prey.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out." He replied. It was then that she noticed that his hand was still touching her shoulder and she rolled her shoulders back uncomfortably. Loki dropped his hand in response.

Ashleigh rolled her eyes, "Why're you even taking me out anyways? You don't even _know _me." She pointed out matter-of-factly, slightly confused.

"Yeah, but maybe I want to." And without another word, he tapped her shoulder once and they were gone.

…

Ashleigh swore when she landed that she was actually going to kill Loki for doing that again without warning her. The ground rushed up to meet her feet and once her stupidly high heels were planted on the concrete, her ankle rolled and threw her off balance. Feeling herself beginning to fall backwards, down, down down, she closed her eyes and scrunched her face up, flailing her arms…

…but then a warm hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her up into a warm body. Dazed and blinking, Ashleigh took a minute to right herself and gazed unseeingly at the concrete pavement she was standing on. Spots were still flashing back and forth across her vision and she pressed fingers to her temple in order to stop the sploshes of colour.

"W-what… I, oh," she flushed bright red as she realized what had just happened. She looked back up into Loki's smug face. Damn him and his stupidly pretty eyes. Why was she even focusing on his eyes? God, she was better than this! She was _not _some stupid sap from a romance novel who got lost in people's eyes, no, she was rational and logical. Or at least she thought she was. Well, whatever, it didn't matter. His eyes weren't even that nice anyways, she thought grumpily.

"Yeah, you're really not too good at this whole teleporting thing, are you?" He observed, setting her back down on her feet and pushing her hair out of her face with gentle fingers.

"I thought you were gonna tell me when you did that again! Don't be a douche," she burst out indignantly, jabbing a stern finger directly into his chest. Nausea roiled in the pit of her stomach and she bit down on her lip to stop herself from throwing up. It took a minute, but she felt fine again after tilting her head back and inhaling deeply and exhaling to calm her stomach down.

"But that takes all the fun out of it!" he whined pleadingly.

"Oh, so me tripping over is funny to you?" this time it wasn't accusing or angry, she was laughing too, covering her mouth with a hand to stifle the snorts. She was clumsy, she'd admit that. Hyper flexible ankles were her excuse. She was one of the few people on earth who could literally trip over nothing. She could just be standing there and – oh, over she goes. In hindsight it had been pretty funny but it had just been plain embarrassing.

He pulled her close and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, laughing, "Aw, nah… not you, Ashie. Never you." The cinnamon-sugar smell was back again and she leant into the embrace, shoulders shaking with laughter.

"You always this touchy-feely with people you just met?" she questioned, gazing up at him. Loki was pretty short, she was guessing that he was around 5'8", but she was tiny compared to her older sister. Standing at a proud height of 5'4", Ashleigh had always been ashamed of being short. It'd been really hard, especially with sport because nobody wanted the short kid on their basketball team and she'd never admit it, but she'd always been intimidated by all the 5'10" model-like girls who swanned around and bent down to talk to her. Condescending bitches.

"Eh," he ruffled her hair affectionately. "I like humans. What can I say?"

"Really?" she asked disbelievingly. "Your buddies didn't really seem to feel the same way. In fact, they were looking at me like I would look at bucket of Häagen-Dazs."

He began to lead her along a cobbled pathway under pools of yellow light and she followed him, listening as he said, "I guess I just appreciate your culture more than most. I mean, you're kinda funny."

"_Kinda_?" she replied, snorting and hip-checked him slyly. "Watch what you say there, Trickster. I'm a human too. We're _awesomely _funny, just so you know."

"And the Spearmint Rhino's pretty great too," he added as an afterthought, catching her gaze and winking slowly, flirtatiously.

Ashleigh decided to punch his arm lightly for the mention of the strip club, "Hey! Mind out of the gutter!"

"What – who, me? _Never_…" Loki protested teasingly, holding her tight to his side cheekily as they continued walking down the little side road, swaying from side to side.

"Ah… _sure..." _she rolled her eyes sardonically. She was still smiling when she asked, "So, where are we?" she looked around behind her. It felt like one of the places she'd always dreamed of going as a teenager – when she'd wanted to do anything and everything and visit all the places she'd never been. The cobbled pavement was wet and illuminated by the golden light pooling onto the ground. Bordered by quaint little apartment/house buildings, the side alley had a distinctly European feel to it.

"Venice," Loki answered, looking around him with an air of wonder. "You've always wanted to go to Italy, and I'm pretty sure that Venice is your favourite place in Italy."

"How'd you know that? Wait, did you read my mind? You so did – don't do that!" she spluttered out. She hadn't told him that she liked Italy – at least she thought she hadn't. She knew mind-reading was a bit of a leap, but he _was _a god. She really hoped that wasn't the case. Then he'd know everything that was going on in her head and she really didn't want him seeing all that mess. He'd also know how conflicted she felt.

"Uh…" he looked uneasy, "Not all the time. Just to pick out tidbits of information. That's all." He promised and although he sounded sincere, she couldn't be sure.

"You promise?" she knew it was childish but she really just needed to make sure.

He stopped where they were standing and turned her around to face him, speaking earnestly, "Do you know how annoying it is to hear peoples' thoughts, all day, every day, that constant annoying little buzz in the back of your mind?"

"Honestly, I don't and I'm assuming it'd be useful to be able to read minds." Ashleigh crossed her arms across her chest and glared back at his stupidly pretty eyes. "I mean, wow. You took me to Venice – thanks. That's incredible. But reading my mind is just –" she cut herself off, shaking her head. "- Loki, that's not right." Her eyes pleaded with him to stop but also not to be angry with her – he might just leave her in Venice. She liked him and didn't want him to be pissed at her but reading peoples' minds wasn't right and was a straight up invasion of privacy. And she was totally going to call him out on that.

He gazed at her for a long moment before licking his lips and nodding slowly, "Sure. I can do that, kiddo," he twined his arm back around her and relief washed over her – he wasn't pissed. Good. Had she pissed him off enough he might have actually ditched her in Venice. The thought sent shivers down her spine but she brushed them off and straightened up. Also he was nice for a god, she didn't want to lose one of her few – friends? Acquaintances? God he was making this really hard, on the one hand, he'd teleported her to Venice. And on the other hand he'd only known her a couple hours.

Trying to redirect the conversation, she asked, "So, er, where are we going?"

"Just over _here_," he jabbed a finger over at where the light at the end of the street shone dimly, illuminating the cobblestones. As they neared the light, Ashleigh began to see more houses but they looked far away, the bright colors distant and faded. Loki drew her closer and she saw the dying sunset. Deep reds faded into oranges, yellow streaks painting the sky and dark black seeping through the vibrant colors. Ashleigh could feel her mouth drop.

She registered that she was standing on a jetty, overlooking one of the Venice canals. If she looked hard, she could see the small gondolas floating on by. It was absolutely surreal – something she'd only dreamed about. Seeing the sunset in Venice, something she'd always longed to do but didn't have enough money because she was a grad student and knee deep in college debt already.

"God, Loki… this, this is _incredible, _I d-don't know what to _say_… I - _thank you_." She managed, overcome with gratitude and threw her arms around the god without thinking. He stiffened but hugged her back tightly so his chin was resting on top of her head. Embarrased by what she'd just done, Ashleigh stepped back and cleared her throat. "Yeah. Uh, sorry 'bout that…" she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

Loki looked back at her fondly, "S'okay, Ashie." Choosing to only roll her eyes at the nickname, she watched as he waved his hand, a large pizza box appearing in his in his arms and it actually smelt divine. He sat down on the edge of the jetty, dangling his feet off into the water and patted the spot next to him, which she quickly occupied. Sh had to admit that even though she usually hated docks and shit... this was incredible. Magical.

Kicking off her shoes, she dangled her feet over the edge, mimicking him and rested her weight on her elbows, gazing up at the sky. "I kinda wanna take a picture but I don't think my camera's going to do it justice…"

He shook his head in agreement, "Nothing quite like it, I've gotta say. And I've been places – I've been_ everywhere_."

"Everywhere?" she asked, incredulity coloring her tone. "Bullshit."

"Mhmn, you can call 'bullshit' all you want kiddo," he took a slice of pizza. "But you name it, I've most likely been there," he said through a mouthful of pizza, cheeks bulging.

"Huh," she accepted the challenge, smiling. "You been to… Brazil?"

"Yup. I posed with the massive Jesus statue and everything." He offered her the box and she took a slice, chewing thoughtfully. She could picture Loki standing in front of the statue, pulling some super dorky expression or generally being an idiot. The mental image made her snort.

"Mexico?" she tried. She'd been to Mexico for summer break with her friend, Lena. It had been a bit of a disaster to start with – she couldn't find her passport after getting off the plane and had nearly broke down crying because she'd been so stressed, they'd gotten the location of their hotel wrong and nearly picked up the wrong luggage – smart one. But hey, you couldn't blame her. She hadn't really even been thinking as she'd wrapped her hand around the suitcase, the incident where she'd almost lost her passport still fresh in her mind.

"Yup, even though at first I didn't know how to speak a lick of Spanish. But I picked it up quickly – what, with being a god and all." He said. She felt jealous. It must be easy to pick up a language if you were old enough to have watch the people learn to speak it. If she was a god, she'd go around speaking multiple languages all the time to people – it'd be kind of like a secret code. She could talk shit about people even if they were right in front of her – oh the possibilities.

"Argentina?" she tried.

"What's with the South American focus?" he asked curiously, swiveling around to rest his elbows on his knees and face her. His eyes looked nice, especially when they were illuminated by the light of the setting sun, gave them a little reddish gradient. She mentally slapped herself, stop thinking about his _damn _eyes!

"Eh. I've never been." She shrugged, clearing her throat and wracking her brain. "How about… Malaysia?"

"Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt."

Ashleigh laughed at the comment, reaching for another slice. "God, I've gotta think of some better ones… I was always shitty at Geography though…" she shuddered at remembering being handed back her failed skills tests, big red crosses splashing the pages. Latitude and longitude just made her head hurt and made her feel sick.

"Oh, really? What'd you like then?" he stretched his legs out and lay back, hands resting behind his neck.

"History. English – art, oh yeah. Art was my favourite." She shook her head fondly at the memories of spending all her time in the art room, sketching lightly on a piece of printer paper. It had become the norm for her to come home with chalk stains dusting her jeans, paint splattered across the sleeve of her shirt. She had a permanent dent in her index finger of her right hand from where she'd held a paintbrush or a pencil, sketching away for hours on end, obsessively checking and rechecking every small detail.

"So we have the next Picasso on our hands."

"No, no, not by a _long _shot, trust me. I've always liked art, I don't know why. I guess it was relaxing? I don't really know."

There was another beat of silence, slightly awkward this time, but she broke it by musing softly, "Loki?"

"Yeah, doll?" came the quick response. Ashleigh almost raised an eyebrow at the nickname but chose to say nothing. It was nice that he was giving her nicknames within a couple hours of actually knowing her.

"Why are you doing this for me?" she asked in a voice that was smaller than before, fiddling with her hands to avoid looking at him.

"What'd you mean?" he sounded genuinely curious as to what she meant and she chewed on the inside of her cheek habitually, unsure of how to respond without sounding ungrateful.

"_This _– you know, taking me to _Venice_. It's awesome and I love it, but you've known me for what, a couple hours?" she burst out, not caring how it sounded. The thought had been plaguing her mind since he'd taken her back to his house-mansion-whatever and hadn't eaten her alive like his godly friends had been prepared to do.

He remained silent for a moment, seemingly mulling over something. Torn between telling her something or keeping it to himself. Behind him the streetlights flickered and she could have sworn she saw the faintest outline of wings spreading from his back. But just as quickly, they disappeared. Must be a godly kind of thing. It probably wasn't the best idea to talk to him about it. There was also the fact that he probably didn't want to talk about it.

She watched as he seemed to come to a conclusion about something, resolution settling in his previously muddled features. Her eyebrow raised questioningly, waiting for his answer, almost scared. She didn't know why but it felt like he was weighing options.

"I don't know," he finally admitted. Loki didn't seem to want to look at her, instead choosing to gaze up at the sky as if it held the answers to all of his problems. What those problems were, she didn't know. And by the look in his eyes, she wasn't sure that she wanted to know anyways. "I don't know." The statement was repeated, firmly this time as if he'd finally decided what he was settling with and that she wasn't going to budge him on that.

Knowing she wouldn't get anything else as an answer, Ashleigh shrugged and tilted her head to look up at what he was so entranced by. If that was all he was going to give, she wasn't going to push it. The possibility of him ditching her in Venice if she got too annoying was still a possibility. Besides, maybe she'd ask him about it later. It was probably better to drop the thought. Even though she hated people keeping things from her, she reasoned that he'd tell her eventually… right?

"What's bothering you, sugar?" he tapped her hand insistently, still not looking at her and gazing up at the richly colored sky.

She shrugged nonchalantly, surprised that he picked up on her confusion. Had he been reading her thoughts again? She hoped not, especially after she'd asked him not to. People going back on their promises never went down well with her, especially if it was something as big as reading her mind. Keeping her thoughts safely locked away in her mind was how she liked her life, thank you very much.

"Nothing," she muttered vaguely, "Nothing at all."

* * *

**Author's Note: Wow. That's all I have to say. Thank you all so, so much for all the reviews, follows and favorites! They made my day :) Please drop a review and leav ideas for what you want to see happen with Gabe (or Loki, might I say) and Ashleigh! I do have a long term plan for where I want it to end up but I want lots of fluff and fun stuff! Also, the title for this song comes from a Red Hot Chili Pepper's song I like - Venice Queen. **

**VERY IMPORTANT: ****So, I'm also in the midst of plotting another SPN fic. Sam/OC, of course. He's just too adorable *squishes his cheeks enthusiastically* and I was wondering if anyone would be open to the idea of me bouncing ideas off them and getting feedback? I find that it's useful to have a second set of eyes check your plot out so if anyone's up for the idea, please drop me a PM and I'll be more than grateful! **

_**Review? **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Where the Lines Overlap**_

…

**Chapter 3: Cruel World**

She lay next to him on the boardwalk, gazing up at the stars serenely. It was incredible, the shapes and formations she could make out in the now black sky. Little pinpricks of light dotted the inky sky and every so often a wispy cloud would trail across the sky slowly, only adding to the sheer _magical _feeling of lying under the Venice sky. Faintly she wondered how long they were going to spend in Venice. She'd wanted to do so many things here ever since she'd studied the Italian Renaissance – the earliest manifestation of the general European Renaissance – as a part of her History major in college. Little by little, she'd fallen in love with the rich, colourful history of the country, so much so that she actually enjoyed writing her ten thousand word papers on how the Renaissance shaped modern culture and later on about Romanticism in Italian artwork.

She'd never learnt Italian, although she'd always wanted to. Considering that Italian hadn't been offered as a course in her high school, she chose French instead considering that her language teacher had told her that once she learnt French, picking up Italian would be a breeze. It'd been her understanding of French that had led her pick up on the fact that the word _renaissance _meant rebirth in French – and that was what that era had been all about. The renewed interest in the culture of classical antiquity had lead to a total shift from what had been known as the Dark Ages.

Leaning back on her elbows and searching the sky dreamily, she could imagine the little cherubs so prominently featured in the Renaissance art flying overhead and cheekily rearranging the stars into different formations to confuse the stargazers. Cold wind tickled her bare shoulders and arms, but she was too busy gaping up at the sky and trying to pick out the constellations.

Loki suddenly nudged her gently with his elbow, whispering loudly "Psst, Ashie! Look up there!"

She followed where he was pointing up to a cluster of light and nodded, "Yeah? What am I looking at?"

"Stars," came his cheeky response.

"Shut up," she muttered and elbowed him sharply. From her peripheral vision, she could see him mock-pout. He let out a little exaggerated pained noise and she rolled her eyes, a grin slipping over her lips against her will.

"Ah, you wish, but seriously… doesn't that one look like a cow?" He said through a muffled snort and when he saw her blank face, he hastened to add on, "Look, see there're the horns… and the legs and the body – it's all right there!"

"Oh my God, Loki." She slapped a palm against her forehead, trying not to wince when she did it too hard. Ow. "You seriously have the sense of humor of a nine year old."

He rolled over onto his side to face her, grinning lopsidedly and flashing white teeth, "But you know you love it – and by the way, you just hit yourself in the face. Really hard, I mean, people in _France _probably heard that facepalm."

"Yeah, that did hurt," she admitted, laughing. He trailed a finger up her arm, poking at the goosebumps. His fingers were warm against her cold skin and she wriggled closer, "Dude, why are you so warm?" Poking his stomach sharply, she asked, "You got a mini-heater in there somewhere?"

He gave her a look that was all unamused stoniness and replied, sarcasm practically oozing from his words, "Why yes, Ashleigh. I happen to carry a mini-heater around in my stomach. Because that's what everyone does to keep warm." He raised a brown eyebrow teasingly.

She elbowed him again and she could feel blood rushing up to her cheeks, turning her face an awkward shade of red, staying there to torment her, "Oh, shut _up_. You know what I meant?"

He raised his hands in a gesture of peace and answered, "Okay, yeah, yeah, I did. Why?" he glanced at her quickly and then at her bare, exposed arms. "You cold?"

"A little, yeah." She shrugged and then immediately regretted her decision as soon as Loki threw his arms around her, squeezing tightly. The smell of cinnamon and sugar invaded her nose and that was all she could smell, her face buried into the crook of Loki's neck and he held her tight around her waist, his hands burning through the fabric.

"Better now?" He chuckled and she could feel him grin teasingly into her hair.

"This isn't funny, Loki," she huffed teasingly, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into his jacket. One of the metal buttons on the jacket pressed hard into the side of her cheek and she swore that if there was a big red mark on the side of her face, then she might actually hit him. Her cheek was slowly losing feeling, numbness slowly starting to crawl up her face. "Loki, I can't feel my face."

"Oh, shit, sorry," he released her a little and settled for slipping his arm around her shoulders, drawing her tight to his body so her head dropped onto his shoulder.

"Dude… I still can't feel my _face_… this is kind of a big problem," she slurred, one side of her mouth responding and the other drooping down.

Loki pressed a warm finger to her face and something flooded through her veins, something gentle, subtle and _alive_. It warmed her to her very core and she could feel the senses return to the side of her face. His eyes not leaving her face, he dropped his hand slowly, fingers still lingering on her face .

"Did y-you just use magic on me?" she stammered, blinking fast because her body was already aching strangely from the loss of the warmth that had previously flooded through her veins. She felt empty, cold and she longed for the feeling again.

He nodded, "Yep – you alright now?"

"Y-yeah, I guess. I didn't know you had healing powers." She replied. She didn't remember Loki having healing powers in the books she'd been assigned to read for her Ancient History course. The book had said that he was a Jotun, a Frost Giant, but looking at him now she could tell that he was most certainly not a giant and nor was he freezing. Which was weird.

Loki blinked, obviously not expecting her to pick up on that, "Well, humans didn't know everything about the deities they worshiped. They only knew what we allowed them to see." He said quickly, ruffling her hair.

"Huh," she decided not to push the matter and just be grateful to the guy. The reminder that he might ditch her in Venice was still a possibility. Wait, what if -

And just because Ashleigh was a naturally suspicious person – thanks to the boy that had kissed her on a dare in tenth grade, who she'd actually really liked – the thought that this was an elaborate trick crossed her mind. But what had she done to deserve it? However, iIt did sound like something that a trickster would find funny – take the wistful, land-locked History student to Venice and ditch her there.

She licked her lips nervously as the ideas occurred to her, spoiling her stupidly silly excitement that she might have actually made friends with a decent seeming guy, who also happened to be a god. Maybe she should tell him that she knew about it and maybe he'd drop her back home. If he was in a good mood. Some part of her mind was screaming at her loudly , _God! You're so fucking paranoid about everything! Just enjoy the moment, Ashleigh._

But her paranoid side won over and parting her mouth, she looked over at him quickly. Loki lay beside her. His hands were slipped under his head and his head was tilted up, hair rustling in the gentle wind. She didn't think she'd actually seen him blink in a while, he was too busy gazing up at the stars, legs dangling off the boardwalk.

"Hey, Loki…" she began, very unsure of herself and deciding that studying her hands like they held the secrets of the universe was a better alternative than meeting his curious gaze. Maybe the whole thing being a trick was why he didn't want to tell her why he brought her here. Fear twisted her stomach into a tight little ball and she felt almost physically sick at the idea that him taking her to Italy was all a trick. But she supposed that she should have expected it – he was a trickster after all. He was supposed to be somewhat of a pathological liar with some sort of screwed up justice-giver complex who enjoy screwing with people's heads. She really should have expected this. God, she could be stupid sometimes.

"Yeah, doll?" he looked over at her fondly, fingers idly playing with strands of her blonde hair that fanned out across the weathered jetty.

"I-I know. You can stop pretending," she looked at him, trying to convey that she was 100% done with being screwed over.

"Know about what?" Terror seemed to flicker slowly into his gaze, panic flaring in his gold irises, the lazy façade dropped. Blurred shadowy shapes shimmered behind him again in her peripheral vision but she ignored them in favour of looking at the floor. Her stomach flopped as he repeated urgently, "Know about what, Ashleigh?"

"T-that this is a trick?" she said, shaken up by his panic. It was almost like a question because she didn't know why he'd be so panicked that she'd figured his game out. She'd expected more irritation and anger more than anything else.

His shoulders seemed to drop in relief and he laughed airily, "A trick? No, God, no! Why'd you say that?" He looked so relieved that it freaked her out a little bit but upon seeing her weirded out expression, he straightened his face.

"Uh, because that's what tricksters _do_? They trick people?" she said with a bit of a 'duh expression on.

His face turned serious and he looked at her solemnly, "Ashie… this isn't a trick. I actually genuinely like you. You're pretty cool." And he looked behind them, a wide, gleeful grin spreading across his face and added on to the end of the sentence, "Also, we should probably start running now."

She jolted sharply, "What, why?" Confusion and panic flared through her and Ashleigh jerked around to see what it was he was finding so funny. There, running towards them was a large middle aged man – Italian, of course and he was waving his fist angrily and yelling something in Italian that she couldn't quite understand. It sounded kind of like French but she couldn't catch what he was saying. Something red was dripping down his face and it looked suspiciously like sauce.

"Loki – what the fuck's going on?" turning to him, she saw that he'd clambered to his feet, pizza box hand and his other hand stretched out to help her up. She took it and pulled herself up, standing on shaky feet in her three inch pumps.

As the man neared them, they could hear him yelling in broken English, "_YOU… STOLE… MY… PIZZA!" _

Whipping around, Ashleigh jabbed a finger into Loki's chest accusingly and asked, dumbfounded, "You stole his _pizza_!?" The hell? Why'd he do tha – oh, yeah. That's right. He was a trickster. Fucking with people was in the job description.

"I stole his pizza." Loki confirmed, sniggering. His shoulders were shaking with barely controlled laughter. To be fair though, hers were too – the look on the guy's face was just too funny to ignore. If he was in a comic strip or a cartoon then steam would surely be pouring out of his ears.

"W-why?" she asked as the man advanced on them, shaking his finger furiously. She was trying to admonish Loki but truthfully she found it hilarious.

"He was being a dick to the chef!" Loki protested indignantly, not bothering to look at the man striding closer until the yelling got louder and he looked at her, his face splitting into a wide toothy grin. "Ashie… we really should probably run."

"Roger that," she snorted, raising her eyebrows and rolling her eyes.

Turning on her heel, Ashleigh began sprinting down the narrow pavement close behind him, staggering on her three inch heels. She'd always liked running. Which was really weird because she usually hated most forms of sport because she was severely lacking in the hand-eye-coordination department. Running had been another serious stress reliever and had helped her to focus more on things like physical stress than all her truckloads of emotional and social issues. It was familiar and made her think of home, where she and her sister, Sophia would run laps around their house. Sophia always won though. Wind whipped past her as she pumped her legs quickly, pushing through the scattered groups of people chatting on the boardwalk. Loki was in front of her, pushing and jumping through the crowds.

His laughter carried back on the wind to her, making her insides go all funny. Like she'd said before, he did have a very nice laugh. She followed the sound – he'd been totally consumed by the crowd of people walking slowly along the boardwalk. Acutely aware of the rubbing sensation on her heels and the pain flaring through her feet, she yelled to Loki, "Dude… my, ah, shit, my _shoes_… you want to walk or something now?"

She finally caught a glimpse of his olive army jacket and the light glinting off his brown hair. He craned his neck back to look at her and shook his head, pulling a face, "_Nah!_" he called out, "_just kick 'em off, doll!"_

Doing as he said, she kicked the pumps off her feet and turning around, lobbed them at the guy still chasing them. They hit the ground a couple feet before where he was and skittered to the sides. Dammit. If anything that had just made him madder. She kind of liked those shoes. The thought was tinged with slight regret. They really had been pretty classy.

Now that her feet were free of the freaking heels, she sprinted up so she was running next to Loki at a more moderate pace, grinning widely and saying breathlessly, "You seriously stole his pizza and ate it?" she asked incredulously.

"You ate it too – don't go putting all the blame on me," he corrected indignantly, gold eyes flashing and another grin split his face, revealing more white teeth.

"Whatever," she huffed, rolling her eyes and threw a look back over her shoulder, wind rushing over her skin and through her hair. There he was – the angry Italian dude who, to be honest, kind of reminded her of her school principal from way back when she was in high school. Which meant she was already positioned to find him to be a bumbling idiot. "Shit – Loki!" she laughed as the man neared them, giggling hysterically at the expression on his face as he jogged after them, face red with effort

Loki turned back, grin still in place, "C'mon, Ashie. You trust me?"

"No, not really why?" she teased lightly, turning to glance at him, slight apprehension flickering in the back of her mind. What was he planning on doing? The only option that she could think of was just darting off to a side street and hoping the Italian dude didn't catch them. She didn't think she could keep a straight face if he did.

"'Cause we're gonna go on the count of three, okay, _one_ –"

"- wait, what?" The hell was he gonna do? Confusion and fright swept through her at his mischievous expression and she looked at him, unsure. He grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers and held on tight, steering them off to another direction.

Onlookers would have seen a shorter-than-average man with pale brown hair grab on tight to a small, blonde woman's hand, asking her something quickly, half-laughing and half-serious. They saw her respond, looking befuddled and confused but then he interlaced their fingers tightly, turning and running at a full sprint, pulling her along and _jumping _into the canal, yelling something that sounded vaguely like, "_Geronnimo, biaches!"_

The blonde woman was screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs but then her terrified voice was cut off when she plunged into the cold water of the canal, still holding the brown haired man's hand tightly like some sort of lifeline. Some onlookers swore they saw a faint bluish shine when the man hit the water, the sheen spreading across the water like a kind of layer, glittering with pure light. But then it faded out and left the people who saw it rubbing at their eyes and wondering what they'd seen.

Ten, fifteen minutes later, the couple didn't surface. Why that was, those onlookers would never know.

…

Ashleigh remembered herself yelling something like, "_Loki, I swear to FUCKING GOD I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU_," at the top of her lung but then her mouth had been filled with water and she couldn't speak, fluid choking her and muffling her threats. Fear, raw and uncontrollable shot through her, clouding her thoughts and tightening like a hot rubber band around her ribs – she opened her mouth to cry out in complete terror that _she couldn't swim. _Kicking and thrashing wildly, she clawed to reach the surface, spluttering and sinking further into the depths of the icy cold water. Feeling like she was being suffocated, Ashleigh choked on water again and watched as nothing but bubbles escaped her lips with a growing sense of desperation. Black swirled at the edge of her vision and she felt her eyes sting with tears. And then that rocketing sensation shot through her veins, lighting her senses up and nausea wracked her stomach, twisting her thoughts. She retched violently, she was pretty sure that she was going to splatter the contents of her stomach everywhere – both from fear but then she collapsed into a beanbag.

She swore she was sinking back into the blackness again. Panic shot through her veins like an electric current. Terrified beyond words, Ashleigh shoved and kicked out to try and lift the growing weight on her chest, it was_ crushing her _and she couldn't breathe, no no _no help me, please – _and then the reminder that panic was going to get her nowhere flitted through her thoughts and in response she inhaled deeply, pulling herself together and pushing the last of the weight off herself so that she could sit upright. The light that met her eyes was white and blinding and she blinked, raising an unsteady hand to shield her eyes from the piercing brightness.

After the light faded out, Ashleigh blinked and stood up on shaky legs. Relief swept through her as she looked back out at the familiar mess of beanbags and arcade games that Loki had decorated his mansion with. Looking down at herself, she could see that she looked like a wreck. The pretty dress soaked with water and was weighing heavily on her body, the tights clinging to her skin uncomfortably and her shoes were somewhere back in Venice, discarded along the street.

There was a ninety-percent chance that if she looked in a mirror right now, all she'd see is something that vaguely resembled a drowned rat. Her hair was plastered onto the side of her face and she peeled it off, flicking over her shoulders, irritation fuelling the burning anger. The realisation that she was still shaking both from fear and being absolutely freezing crossed her mind but she didn't do anything about it. She was just trying to catch her bearings. The feel of the icy cold water surrounding her, pouring into her mouth and nose – muting her desperate cries for help was still fresh in her mind. She didn't know how to swim and he'd gone and pulled her into a canal without warning.

Ashleigh buried her face in her hands and the heels of her palms dug deep into her eyes, bright colours flashing across the inky blackness. She heard someone sobbing, quiet and filled with a mix of panic and relief and realised that she was the one sobbing because she'd never been taught how to swim and the asshole had just faced her with her worst fear. Drowning. Her hot tears burned in streaks down her cold face and wet her hands further as she cried – a mixture of relief and pure terror as she continued to relive the past few minutes of her life. Cold, suffocating, so much pressure, pulling her under, lungs _burning _with the need to inhale. Her shoulders shook as she took deep, uneven breaths and decidedly ignored the horrible tears streaming down her face.

On the other side of the room, Loki groaned, seemingly coming to. She watched, numb as he sighed out loud and rubbed at his eyes with the hand that wasn't propping him up. Slowly, he pulled himself to a standing position and stretched luxuriously.

"Well," he chuckled. "How was that for an escape, eh? We Houdini'd our way outta that one, hey, kiddo?" An easy grin spread across his face.

Trying to remain calm, pushing the terror to the side and clenching her fists so tightly that her nails broke skin and blood began to wet her palm, Ashleigh levelled him with a red-rimmed death glare, "Loki. What the actual _hell _was that?" Her voice was trembling with barely controlled anger and fear.

He finally turned to look at her and as soon as he saw her expression and knew that she wasn't kidding around, he sobered instantly and began making his way over to her with this confused and anxious expression on his face. He reached out to her, looking concerned and worried, and tried to lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder but she flinched away deciding to take a step backwards and shake her head, laughing blackly without humour.

"No no _no_, no y-you don't get to _touch _me – not after that." She edged out quickly from where his hand had been, shaking her head and her chest heaving with her laboured breaths.

"Ashie – what's wrong, doll?" he asked and concern touched his voice in a way she couldn't quite describe. He looked confused, muddled and she almost wanted to hit him right across the face for it. She saw red when he called her doll – no no _no_, he didn't get to call her that, no, not after _that_.

"Loki, I can't swim – I can't _fucking swim and you pushed me into a GODDAMNED CANAL!_" she raged, still trembling and to the extent that the scream scraped the back of her throat. The tears retuned, hot and fast and they tracked down her face in streaks again. Her arms and legs were shaking with adrenaline from the burst of alarm that had preceded her outburst and she just looked at him with this incredibly wide-eyed, fearful expression.

He was rendered speechless. His mouth parted and he fumbled for something to say to her, presumably something he thought would make it right. Loki's eyes betrayed huge amounts of guilt and he seemed distraught, just looking at her with that same expression.

"I couldn't swim, Loki," she repeated herself slowly, pathetically. "I-I was drowning," she looked down at the floor simply because she couldn't stand to look at him anymore. Tears welled again in her eyes, streaming freely down her cheeks and she hiccupped. The sound echoed loudly in the wide, cavernous room.

"God, Ashleigh – I –" he cut himself off, aghast at what he'd done. "I'm so _sorry_, I never would have done that if I hadn't known," He tried to plead with her, golden eyes swirling with anguish.

"Oh, really?" she snorted cynically, rolling her eyes and voicing the thoughts that had plagued her ever since he'd mentioned that he was a trickster. "I feel like that's exactly the sort of thing you'd do. You screw with people – you're a trickster. You even said it yourself."

The anguish seemed to fade away and self-righteous anger began to cloud his features, he stepped forwards and objected heatedly, "No – what?! How can you _say _that? I rescued you – I _saved _you from being eaten alive, I took you to _Venice _for God's sake! Don't you daretell me that all I do is screw with people, don't you _dare_." He managed, dumbfounded by the idea that she honestly thought that he wanted to screw her over.

"Yeah, you took me to Venice – but you also _read my fucking mind_ and might I remind you, you had _no right to do that_!" she yelled back animatedly, hands gesturing wildly as she tried to convey the depth of how wrong that was. "That is such an invasion of privacy – I don't even _know _how to explain that to you! Oh, but I guess because you're some sort of fancy hot-shot god that you can just go around and expect that you can do whatever you want, whenever you want!"

"Ashleigh, will you listen to yourself for a second? I can't help reading people's minds, it's practically all I hear anymore! This constant _yap-yap-yapping _in my ear, I'm _sorry _if I just used it to find out a little more about you!"

"You 'just wanted to find out a little more about me', huh? Well, that's a pathetic excuse considering that you could have just asked me! And as for the 'yap-yap-yapping'? Don't even _start _on that bullshit with me. Little to none of the world's population still actively worships the old Norse gods so you can _pretend_ all you want that that's a viable excuse, but it's _not_, okay?!" she practically screamed at him, red in the face from absolute fury because even in the short few hours she'd known him, ninety percent of what he'd done for her was push her around and cross privacy boundaries – which was honestly just not going to fly with her. She was still shaking from the flashes of the dark, cold water that invaded her mind – she'd honestly thought she was going to drown.

"I tried to do something nice for you!" he yelled back, equally loud and his eyes were filled with hurt confusion and fury at her previous remarks. "I tried to do something _I knew you wanted _and this is the thanks I get?"

"Yeah, and how about I get started on the fact that you're just off and whizzing me around the globe – dude, you might be used to it, but I'm _not_. It's not fun – _especially_ when to make some sort of fancy get away, _you pull me into a fucking canal when I CAN'T SWIM_! If you were really reading my mind to 'find out more about me'-" she used airquotes sarcastically, "- then you would have known that I'm afraid of water!"

"You landed in the water when we teleported here – why the hell weren't you screaming your head off then?!" he asked, raising his eyebrows to prove a point and crossing his arms over his chest in a hostile fashion.

"Because I landed right next to the ladder, dumbass!" she shot back and mimicked how he folded his arms, cocking her hip to the side and glaring at him with full intensity. Green on gold, they stayed like that for a while. His gold eyes slowly froze from their usually molten state and clouded over, his usually expressive and animated face becoming blank and closed off.

"W-what do we do now?" he finally broke the tense silence that had followed the yelling match and looked incredibly uncomfortable, wringing his fingers and carding a jerky hand through his hair.

She looked at him coldly, shivering and rubbing her hands up and down her arms quickly to warm herself up. He sounded quiet but with this underlying sadness tinging his tone blue, worn out from yelling at her. They were standing on opposite sides of the room and she could feel water dripping off her dress and pooling on the floor around her, soaking her ripped tights. The material was heavy and scratchy now, rubbing uncomfortably against her skin.

"I – just, I…" she didn't know what to say. She couldn't think of anything she wanted more than to go home and take a nice long bath, forgetting the events of the previous hours and then sleeping for hopefully four days. It occurred to her to tell him to take her home but she didn't think she could take being thrown around time and space again like that. But she didn't know where she was, she didn't have her phone or her car so how was she going to get home? She very much doubted a bedraggled, soaking wet woman could get a safe ride home in the early hours of the morning.

"Send me home, Loki." She said quietly, worn out and sick of yelling at him. It felt like the roaring, blazing fire in her stomach had died down to a tiny flicker and all she wanted was to go back to her regular, normal life that was filled with regular, normal people – not gods. Not cannibal gods, not tricksters, nobody like that.

He nodded in understanding, eyes still filled with a deep sort of hurt and gently touched her shoulder. The same sensation shot through her like lightening and everything was black and she was falling down, down – until she was standing in front of her door.

_Apartment 3A _glinted back at her, the words painted on the nondescript front door in golden cursive. She traced her fingers over the lettering – she remembered painting it when she'd moved in. The paint had been cracking and peeling off in long, off-white sheets. She'd just painted the wooden door with lacquer and painted the letters over the top.

Her hand tightened around the doorknob and Loki's hand closed over hers. Warmth shot through her skin and the door unlocked, sliding open easily to reveal her familiar looking apartment, furnished with all sorts of bits and bobs she'd picked up in vintage stores and IKEA. She stepped inside, pulling her hair out of its sloppy half-bun. His presence still burned behind her, and with a wobbly lip, she turned to look back at him.

He smiled sadly, "I guess I'll see you around, Ashleigh."

Licking her lips, she corrected shakily, "M-maybe it's best if you don't." she didn't know if she could handle it anymore. The fact that gods were real and that she'd nearly drowned kept flashing across her thoughts. But so did the feel of Loki's magic, his hand on hers, the buttery colour of his eyes. Despite those memories, she bit down on her lip and kept her resolve firm.

The tiny glimmer of hope in his eyes was snuffed out and he bowed his head, "Uh, s-sure. If that's what you want." The wing shapes flashed again, bolder and brighter this time but with that last sentence, he began to walk away from the door.

His image flickered, once, twice and then he was gone, leaving Ashleigh to stare at the closed door in front of her, resting her head on the wood and letting the tears flow freely again.

**Author's Note: Well… do you remember when I said that this was going to be light and fluffy? Yeah… I lied… :) But oh, no! Loki and Ashleigh had their first real falling out! /gasp/ But never fear! They'll reunite soon, though. The title came from a Lana Del Rey song off her new album. It's awesome :)**

**Also, because I forgot to mention it last chapter, Ashleigh's FC is Scarlett Johansson! **

**If anyone else wants to look over my Sam/OC plot then please don't hesitate to drop me a PM! I don't bite, I promise! **


	4. Chapter 4

_**Where the Lines Overlap**_

…

**Chapter 4: Burning Bridges**

* * *

Everywhere Gabriel looked, all he could see were the massive, looming mountains of Norway. Forests were sparsely dotted across the steep slopes of the rocky peaks and if he looked hard enough, he could see a small village in the distance. The sky was a soft dove grey and dark clouds streaked across the heavens, muting the sun's dull glow. He was standing on the top of a smaller, grassy hill, his eyes blankly scanning the horizon in front of him. The air was cold and it carried the promise of even colder days to come.

He breathed in deeply, calming himself and continued to stare out at the distance. Since the beginning of time, Gabriel had watched humanity grow and evolve but he felt as if he would never truly understand them, the strange yet somehow captivating creatures. It had only been a few hours since the events of Venice and the memories were still vivid images in his mind.

Gabriel didn't know why he chose Norway of all places. It had been instinctual – he stopped himself at that thought, smiling wryly. Maybe he really was turning into Loki the Frost Giant. The same physical sickness that wrenched his stomach every time he thought of his deceptions and his cowardice returned. He swallowed hard against the nausea.

He didn't think that he'd ever been so confused before. His mind was a jumble of chaotic ideas, overwhelming thoughts and feelings. He didn't think he'd ever felt quite so human before. Faintly, he wondered if all humans felt this muddled on a daily basis. If so, it would make their achievements all the more impressive considering the powerful emotions influencing their actions. When he had been a fledgling up in Heaven, back before Lucifer – he still winced upon thinking the name and cut that thought short. The memory of his rebellious, proud older brother still inspired pain, guilt and a deep rooted sadness which stemmed from the realization that nothing would ever be the same between them again.

Before Lucifer fell, everything had been so simple. So easy. There had been nobody else for him to be tempted by, nobody but his family. His Father and his older brothers. He hadn't been consumed by emotions that he'd originally thought to be beneath him – emotions like jealousy, rage, pride and greed. Even lust. There had only been the desire to serve his Father and carry out His will, to make his family proud. The wind whipped through his army jacket but the cold didn't faze him.

Gabriel tilted his face up to the gray sky and let his eyes slip closed. The memories of soaring far, far above the atmosphere on his wings still brought forth a wistful ache in the back of his mind. As a fledgling and as a fully matured archangel, flying with Lucifer had been one of his favorite things. They'd explore the galaxies their Father had created and he would marvel at the fact that nothing his Father had created managed to outshine the Morning Star. Pride flooded him as he gazed, enraptured by his brother's brilliant light shining from deep within him.

They would visit Earth and coast through sandy deserts and fly just over the top of glittering expanses of blue water. Back when Gabriel had been young, his wings had been too heavy for him to manage and they'd trailed behind him in the water, slowing him down so he lagged behind his older brother – who would always wait for him to catch up before speeding off again. He missed the feeling of being completely weightless – being on Earth was so grounding. It weighed him down in ways he couldn't begin to describe.

Becoming a pagan god – assuming the Norse trickster, Loki's identity had certainly been an eye opening experience. None of the pagan gods were even as powerful as a mere fledgling and curious as he always was, Gabriel had taken it upon himself to find out why. As it had turned out, his Father hadn't created the other gods. Humanity, who wove stories of grand palaces resting high in the clouds over the tips of mountains, giant snakes who would one day swallow the planet whole and eight-armed creatures who could destroy the planet with a snap of their fingers. Desperate for understanding of the world they were exploring, the inquisitive race had created gods and figures of authority to look up to – and also to explain the unexplainable.

Through the sheer hope and belief that humanity placed in these fictional characters, hundreds of pagan gods had been born and they walked the earth, demanding sacrifices and worship. Relieved and driven by the desire to thank their creator – as misguided as they might have been, Gabriel had to concede that they had the right idea – droves upon droves of humans had wasted no time in bowing to the pagan gods. But over time as science and technology developed, the belief in the rich, glorious legends of their respective religions faded slowly.

The wind began to pick up now, rushing across the rocky ground he was standing on and brushing his hair back off his face violently. Still, he stayed, not bothered by the stinging gust of air. As the Information Age had begun and ideas which had once just been theories were proved, less and less people were dedicating themselves to religions. That meant that there were no more sacrifices, no more power gained from those sacrifices. As the Indian goddess, Kali had explained, the pagan gods were starving. Living on barely anything – and what little they did manage to find, it was usually obtained by less than ideal methods.

But Gabriel had turned a blind eye to their _unusual_ means of gaining power, finding that he understood why they did what they did, but that still didn't mean that he had to like it. He had always been told that he was too compassionate – especially by beings like Michael. First and foremost, the Leader of the Heavenly Host, but also on rare occasions he was Gabriel's older brother. Retrospectively, he guessed that he agreed with him. Falling in love with the human race had been easy. They were fascinating creatures. Intelligent and filled with the desire to learn, to understand. He had watched as they learned to speak, learned to survive among the difficulties his Father's creation had provided them with. He watched them love, hate and desire. He knew that every human had a purpose in the grand scheme of things – of course they should! His Father had a reason for everything He did. Not many of which, he told Gabriel, of course. But Gabriel had had overwhelming amounts of devotion for his Father and placed all his trust and faith in the Creator.

Now, he wasn't so sure. After the Fall of the Morning Star, he had fled Heaven and hid himself deep in the world of idolatry and paganism, so deep that he was sure that Heaven wouldn't want him back if they knew where he'd run to. Even though he'd despised Heaven after his brother's exile, there were things he still missed. His wings, for one. He hadn't flown since he'd left Heaven and he missed the powerful beats of his wings, the feeling of his feathers brushing against his skin as he'd soared through the atmosphere, laughing gleefully at the feeling of being free from all his responsibilities as an archangel.

Thinking of his wings lead his mind to turn to Ashleigh. At the thought of the small blonde woman, emotions flashed through his mind - anger, hurt and this confusing protective instinct that had been plaguing him ever since he'd seen her in the hotel. Gabriel had never felt this irritatingly human before, delving deep into emotions that he had once considered above him. Despite how angry and misunderstood he felt, he still desired to be next to her and not being near her felt… strange. He didn't like it, he decided firmly. Everything about her felt oddly foreign, but somehow _achingly _familiar. Like he'd known her all his life.

He remembered the first time that he had ever seen her with clarity. Two minor gods - Mars' sons, he could never recall their names - had dragged her out of the kitchen and towards Horus. He'd felt nothing but a small twinge of regret that another member of the race he had once adored so was going to die in such a vain, unimportant way. He'd felt sick to his stomach at the way the pagans had been looking at her hungrily, raking their eyes up and down her body. The thought that maybe he should look away crossed his mind, but then she was staring right at him with these wide, expressive green eyes. Seemingly pleading with him until - she wasn't.

Gabriel remembered watching with growing confusion as her gaze flickered slowly to either side of him and her expression was shaped into something that looked like awe - was she looking at his wings? That wasn't possible. He had spent centuries cloaking the manifestations of his grace so the pagans he was hiding among would have no reason to doubt him. It had been milennia since he had extended each set to their full span - easily the size of a small house depending what he was using them for. But then he realized that she _was_ looking at his wings and he was suddenly struck with this desire to protect her, to _save _her from this terrible fate. This human could see his wings - even when the two entities weren't even on the same plane of existence. As soon as he had realized what was happening, this sort of attachment had formed and he genuinely_ wanted _her to be safe.

While he was busy mulling, shocked, over that unexpected turn of events, Horus had flicked a causal hand and forced the woman to her knees. She let out a whimper as she was forced to the floor, her expression turning pained as she glared up at the god. Gabriel saw red. Righteous anger welled up inside him and he wanted nothing more than to reveal his true angelic self and smite the bastard who had dared to cause her pain - but he dashed those thoughts away, confused beyond belief. Who was this human? Who was she to inspire these types of feelings in him where no other human could? How could she see his wings? Questions barraged him one after the other as the angelic fury raged inside him and he clenched the edge of the marble table, his fingers digging deep grooves into the material like it was butter.

It took all of the willpower Gabriel possessed to not let his true form burn away his vessel and smite each one of the pagan gods who wanted to touch her and he slunk down into his chair, still gripping the table. He could feel her eyes burning into him with the intensity of her pleading stare. But then with a leering grin, Horus trailed a soft hand across her skin, cupping her face gently and letting his hand drift to the junction where her neck met her shoulder. Her thoughts were tinged with fear and revulsion and the instinct to rip Horus' throat out still remained, growing with each moment that he was touching her. Gabriel found that he didn't care that he didn't even know her name. She could be a despicable, completely evil person who deserved what was coming to her, but that thought didn't deter him from wanting to save her. Confusion streaked through his thoughts again - he didn't understand what was happening.

Suddenly, she drew a sharp looking knife from her jeans pocket and plunged it into his thigh with this positively _murderous_ expression on her face. The turn of events had had him completely taken aback at her ferocity, at the fierce glint in her eyes. An odd sort of pride welled up in him, admiration because it couldn't be easy to stab a god in the thigh when he had a whole roomful of back up at his disposal. And then she'd growled at him not to touch her and he felt so proud because he could see the bravery that was so prevalent in the early humans reflected in her gaze.

And when he'd tried to escape with her, his only concern being getting her away from the hotel - she'd stopped him, demanding that he free the rest of the humans too. The demand shocked him because he hadn't expected her to be selfless considering that the humans of the twenty-first century were driven by selfish motives and self-preservation. She was different - this human and he felt more drawn to her. He'd then teleported her to his usual hide out, an abandoned shipping warehouse in Maine that he could shape to suit his every whim.

After she'd fallen in the water and thrown up because of the nausea, he'd carried her. Her body had felt soft and warm in his arms and strangely, irrevocably right. It hadn't come as much of a surprise to him when she'd decided that she wanted to be self-sufficient and that she could walk by herself. Of course, she'd fallen over and he'd wrapped an arm around her waist - letting himself enjoy the feeling that came with being close to her. He'd given up on being confused. Being confused wouldn't get him anywhere. So listening intently to her loud, dazed thoughts seemed like a better option.

Her name was Ashleigh Jessica Waldenberg and she was a twenty-seven year old who lived in Ohio with a degree in Art History and harbored a burning passion for the past. He'd learnt about her dreams, her hopes and aspirations and decided that he was going to do something with this information. What that was, he didn't know yet.

And then he remembered her calling him a liar. A mixture of fury - grief - denial flashed through him and he'd snapped back at her, a deep rooted sadness tinging his retort because he _was_ a liar, a coward who hid behind lies to protect himself. He deserted Heaven when his other brothers probably needed him the most and had betrayed his kind by disguising himself as a pagan god. Almost immediately he'd felt bad for his tone - it was true, after all. Just because he didn't like it didn't mean that he didn't need to hear it.

Ashleigh had decided that she wanted a shower, declaring that she reeked of salt-water and she felt gross. He'd showed her the bathroom and left to return to the main room, collapsing in one of the beanbags and burying his head in his hands and groaning aloud. He didn't know what was happening or how this woman was eliciting such powerful responses from him. He barely _knew _her.

She'd called his name after a while, and because he knew she was ticklish, he jabbed at her sides playfully and found that he enjoyed her laugh and the way her eyes crinkled at the corners, her nose scrunching up which in turn made the spray of freckles dotting the bridge of her nose bunch up too. She was beautiful by human standards, he supposed. Not that he really knew much about human beauty standards. They'd changed so frequently over the centuries and he wasn't bothered to keep up with them.

Curious and intrigued by her (and also because he wanted to see her smile again. It made him feel… happy. Something he hadn't truly felt for a long time), he decided to fulfill one of her biggest aspirations. It hadn't been difficult to take her to Venice and he had enjoyed lying under the stars with her and eating stolen pizza. He found out more about her, that she loved to draw and that she was in love with the Italian culture, also discovering that she_ really_ wasn't afraid to stand up for what she believed in - in this case, privacy. And he admired that about her.

The next onslaught of memories brought pain and confusion along with them. She was sobbing, shaking with fear and relief, these horrible terrified sobs that he couldn't stop thinking about. They'd fought and he'd tried to apologize but she wasn't going to listen to anything he had to say. He had pushed her into a canal and she didn't know how to swim. Guilt had wracked his thoughts - he'd never meant to scare her - but then she'd began to yell angrily.

It ended with her asking in this weary, tired voice if her could send her home and he did without objection. Hurt had welled up inside him, he wasn't angry anymore. Just confused and cursing the feelings that he associated with her. She'd cut off all connections with him, pleading again with those wide green eyes. And there was the reason that he was in Norway, staring blankly at the mountain range that he'd flown over before when he still had his wings.

He didn't understand why she was angry. Confused didn't even begin to explain how Gabriel felt. All that he'd tried to do was to do something he knew she wanted more than anything and somehow he'd gotten that wrong. Shaking his head and groaning out loud, Gabriel grappled for understanding. It had literally been like a switch had been flipped. She had been fine before and then she had been seething mad, yelling and criticizing everything he'd done for her - he stilled suddenly.

He wasn't alone.

"Where's your little human pet? Did she run away?" a familiar female voice interrupted his thoughts and he glanced over to see a petite, dark skinned woman with large dark eyes and a glossy red smile standing with her hip cocked beside him. Dressed in a ruffled red blouse and figure hugging pencil skirt, Kali looked coolly amused and she raised an elegant black brow at the way he had stiffened upon realizing that he wasn't by himself - as he'd intended.

"You know about that?" he asked. Gabriel finally met her eyes and he swore he could detect a hint of jealously. "You're not jealous, are you, bucko?" he added on mischievously, grinning to create the illusion of being completely fine. His whole existence seemed to be compromised of illusions nowadays - quite a sobering thought.

"No," she said forcefully and rolled her eyes with an air of irritation in response. "She's _human_. And yes, news travels surprisingly quickly, Loki - especially when it concerns you and a certain human." Her mouth went into a flat line, seemingly irritated by the thought, more so than she let on.

Gabriel scoffed and rolled his eyes disbelievingly. _Sure_. If she wasn't jealous then he was the Queen of England. "Why are you even here? I mean, don't you have children to terrorize? Virgins to sacrifice?" He asked with a sardonic quality to his tone.

She looked surprised by the question, her eyes going wide and she didn't respond for a few minutes. But when she did respond, her voice was quiet and thoughtful and she ignored the jabs. Uncharacteristic of the normally composed, cold goddess. "I-I don't know." She sounded honest.

"Maybe I can help you figure it out," he smirked at her and winked slowly.

She huffed loudly and rolled her eyes.

Acting on a hunch, he looked her in the eyes and grinned crookedly, "You still love me, Kali?" he asked and raised his eyebrows knowingly. The tips of his fingers brushed her exposed arms and she shivered.

She sighed loudly and pointedly looked away from him, turning her entire body to face the mountain ranges, obviously conflicted about something. What that was, he was curious to find out. "Maybe," she settled on grudgingly.

"Aw, _Kali_, that hurts! I really thought we had somethin' special!" Now he was just teasing her, working on eliciting a straight response from her. Kali seemed to have something against giving straight answers.

She glanced at him with this completely cynical expression. "Don't push it, Loki," she said flatly but her cheeks were burning red. Annoyed by how her body seemed to be betraying what she wanted to appear as, Kali frowned and turned her gaze away from him again.

"Oh, really?" he smirked. It was fun antagonizing Kali especially considering how angry she got sometimes. He didn't have a death wish - he could still take her, the 'Destroyer' as she liked to call herself. She was a weakened pagan god and he was an archangel in disguise, although he was admittedly pretty rusty from millennia of barely using his grace. "What are you gonna do if I do?"

A wide smile spread across her face and she raised a brow teasingly, "Well, that depends."

"On what?"

She stood up on tiptoes and leaned in close to him, so close that he could smell a spicy sweetness wafting from her skin and it was intoxicating. Her lips brushed his cheek and wandered up to his ear slowly, "Let's get out of here, Loki…" she whispered lowly, teasingly.

He swallowed hard, erasing all thoughts of green eyes and messy blonde hair from his mind and tapped the goddess on the shoulder - and then they were gone, leaving the wind to billow across the mountains loudly.

…

Ashleigh had regretted the words as soon as they had left her mouth. _M-maybe it's best if you don't_, she'd told him shakily. The memory of him nodding slowly, understandingly had been seemingly burned into her brain, flashing every time she closed her eyes. What was even more dumbfounding was that she still had no idea why she was so messed up about this.

She'd known the guy for all of half a day and here she was, moping like she'd just broken up with her fiance or something. It was ridiculous. She really needed to pull herself together. Pick herself up, dust herself off and keep on going. Briefly she wondered if this attitude was why she didn't really have many friends.

It wasn't like Ashleigh was a socialite - no, no that title went to Sophia who was born to be in the spotlight, destined to be a star and she was sure that one day everyone would know who Sophia Waldenberg was. It was in Ashleigh's nature to be suspicious and snarky, sarcastic - mostly to cover up her own crippling insecurities. She'd been riddled with the fear of having her heart broken and had decided from an early age that she couldn't trust anyone that intimately.

Ashleigh Waldenberg didn't just build up _walls_. Oh, no. Ashleigh put up walls with spikes embedded into every inch of the stone surface, alligators snapping menacingly in the moat and an entire army sharpening their weapons - all of course behind another wall.

She didn't know what she'd do if they broke her heart.

So she closed herself off, deciding resolutely that she appreciated her alone time and threw herself into her studies and her job. Often she found that she enjoyed the company of fictional people more than real people. At least fictional people couldn't break her heart.

In middle school she'd been sent to counselling because it'd been a _year_ in her new school and she still had no friends, had no interest in raising her hand in class and skipped out on group projects. The old lady had ran her critical gaze up and down Ashleigh's short, hunched over frame and peered at her from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Counselling had been a nightmare for her because like _hell _was she going to spill her deepest, darkest fears to some old woman who would probably go behind her back and tell her mother.

She'd made everything up. It was hypocritical of her, but she didn't feel like even she understood why she was so paranoid and suspicious of people. A yawn forced its way out of her mouth and she rubbed her eyes harshly, picking up her coffee mug and raising it to her lips.

The bitter liquid burned the back of her mouth but she found that it didn't bother her. The burn was better than going to sleep. Going to sleep was like a double edged sword. Either way, if she slept or didn't sleep she still felt like crap. After she'd wake up, her head would feel like it was being drilled through with a jackhammer. Blurriness tickled the edge of her vision and she couldn't see properly for a good ten minutes. And that was when the vivid flashes of her dream from the night before would come.

Blood. Fire. Brimstone. Horrible, piercing cries for help. The _drip drip drip_ of a thick liquid that she really hoped wasn't blood. And then these terrified, pale eyes blinking slowly, fearfully. She woke up screaming most nights. Drenched with sweat, she'd sit tangled in her sheets and her shoulders would shake with fear and the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

The dreams had only really been around for a year and she didn't understand what was happening to her. Ashleigh had been to a psychologist but they'd been dumbfounded, almost as confused as she had been. It wasn't like she watched horror movies or anything before bed so she had no idea where she was getting these images from.

She rubbed at her temples, predicting the onset of another migraine tomorrow. She'd have to stock up on Paracetamol sometime soon. Her eyes sought the calendar out quickly - shit! She had work tomorrow, she was taking Jackson's shift at the diner because he was out in Providence with his parents.

Maybe she should head to bed. She could deal with the dreams tomorrow.

After all, she had been doing it for a year.

When she finally woke up and the second her eyes opened, she squeezed them shut again, groaning miserably. She was hunched over her dining room table and falling out of her chair. The light streaming in from the windows was blinding and she raised a hand, squinting. Her head was throbbing painfully. Her stomach was churning. She was shaking. Her throat felt hoarse from screaming her lungs out, as she did most nights now. Ashleigh opened her eyes slowly again, her head pounding with pain.

She didn't know when she'd finally conked out but she sighed loudly, pushing herself off her dining room table and wiping the edge of her mouth blearily. She rolled her shoulders, sore from sleeping hunched over on the table and stretched languidly.

It was still a little dark outside and she felt like she'd slept forever. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it read 5.30 AM. It had read about 6 PM when Loki had dropped her back home yesterday. She'd slept for nearly twelve hours and the feeling of actually being awake (for once) that was now rocketing through her veins made the images almost tolerable.

_Blood dripped slowly down a limp hand_._ Black eyes, blinking slowly and black smoke coiling around this person attached to some sort of rack. The sound that came about when a knife was leisurely dragged down skin - the slow rip of flesh being torn into viciously._

She blinked hard. She wasn't going to think about it now. She couldn't afford to think about it anymore. Searching around for the pair of jeans she knew were lying on the floor somewhere, Ashleigh realized that she was going to have to walk to the diner today. That wasn't too bad. It was only a twenty minute walk. She could handle it. Yanking her clothes on, a pair of dark jeans and a gray shirt paired with a thick parka, she pulled her shoes on and dropped her phone and keys into her bag.

The door slammed behind her and her stomach growled hungrily. She'd forgotten breakfast. Maybe she'd get something at the gas station. They always had nice banana bread.

She wandered on in to the familiar diner at about six in the morning, the warmth and homey feel engulfing her and she grinned, despite how shitty she felt. It'd been cold outside and she could see frost forming over the concrete and she pulled her coat up around her face, hiding under the fabric.

She'd worked here for about a year and _loved _it. She wasn't a social person but the people that worked here made it hard not to love them. The door swung shut behind her and the woman behind the counter glanced up at her.

At a slender 5'8", Nadine was possibly the most beautiful person Ashleigh had ever seen. Smooth, dark skin and braided jet black hair with these huge brown eyes framed with thick black lashes, she looked like someone you'd see on the cover of Vanity Fair. She cracked a grin and she hopped out from behind the cash register, sashaying with swinging hips over to Ashleigh. She pulled the shorter woman into a tight embrace, swaying back and forth.

"Girl, where the hell were you yesterday?" and then Nadine let go abruptly. Ashleigh blinked up at the taller woman, confused. She sounded hostile now, accusing. She flinched away from Nadine, cowering slightly under her gaze.

"W-what? I went home…" she furrowed her eyebrows and her face slipped into a frown. What had she been forgetting? "How long have I been gone?" she asked confusedly. Her head tilted to the side as she wracked her brain for answers.

Nadine sighed impatiently and folded her arms, "Mitchell's party? Remember? You broke his heart, Ash." The disdainful words sparked an understanding in her and Ashleigh gasped, groaning and dragged a hand across her mouth. Nadine looked at her with a superior expression.

_Shit_. It had been Nadine's ten year old brother's party yesterday which she was supposed to help out with - and she hadn't been there. Guilt welled up in her and she swallowed hard against the remorse. Mitchell was this adorable cheeky kid who had this little puppy dog crush on her and she remembered_ promising _him that she'd be there to help him set up and that she'd hang out with him. He'd looked so excited, so happy that she'd agreed to help him out. And it had made her feel happy to see him smile as well. Made her think that she wasn't totally deficient after all.

The memory reminded her of the past few golden months. The months where she'd been completely happy, her life had been stable, a semblance of normal. She had people she trusted. A job. She was actually_ happy_ for once - but then she'd been kidnapped and nearly eaten by some freak gods. Thinking of that made her think about Loki and she couldn't bring him up without feeling even more heartsick and shouldering even more guilt about how she pushed people away in order to feel secure.

Nadine stared at her, her wide eyes filled with a mixture of hurt on her brother's behalf, disappointment and then she rolled her eyes tiredly. "Yeah, whatever, Ashleigh. I'm sure you had more important stuff to do."

"Nadine -" Ashleigh protested weakly, tiredly, because it wasn't true. She had tried to get home in time but then she'd been kidnapped by some cannibals and transported around the world in a matter of mere hours. It felt like everything in her life was now slowly collapsing. The dreams were slowly getting worse, the nightmares, nobody wanted to be near her - not that she could blame them considering how standoffish she usually was.

"Save it. I… I don't wanna hear it," Nadine cut across her swiftly and coldly, turning away to rearrange things under the counter. "You wanna open up the kitchen?" she asked without meeting Ashleigh's eyes. Her posture was stiffer and tenser than before, obviously hurt by Ashleigh's absence at the party yesterday.

Nodding quickly, Ashleigh left without a word and pushed through the double doors. She stood in the doorway, simply gazing at the shiny, stainless steel kitchen. Squeezing her eyes closed against the memories of being dragged through a kitchen very similar, of actually attempting to stab someone - she raked a hand through her hair and shuffled over to the dishwasher.

Ashleigh rubbed her face with the palm of her hand roughly. Exhausted, both mentally and physically now. Hurting far more than she'd be willing to let anyone see.

All she wanted was to forget the past twenty-four, completely fucked up hours. She did have to concede that a fair percentage of those hours were ones that she had fucked up, but they were really taking their toll on her shaky emotional state. Last night had been the first decent night of sleep that she'd gotten in a _long _long time and she could barely speak considering that she'd screamed herself hoarse all through the night and Ashleigh had no idea what she was supposed to do with that. She supposed that calling Sophia might be a good idea but there was no way in hell that she would present herself as anything less than perfectly okay to the person she'd been competing against for her entire life.

Maybe that was part of the problem. She cared far too much about what people thought but at the same time was too scared to let anyone in far enough to actually help her. That was all Loki had been trying to do - give her what she needed. Help. The memory of him yelling that he only wanted to do something nice for her flashed across her mind.

Going still, she felt her emotions beginning to erase her more rational thoughts regarding those issues. Loki was pretty much the reason that she'd gotten so damn freaked. He'd shown genuine interest in her - her of all people. What did he want from her? What was his ulterior motive? Those questions had plagued her incessantly ever since he'd teleported to Venice. It had been something she'd learned over the years - never trust people fully, they always want something from you. You'll only end up broken and bent at the end.

_God, _she was fucked up. So fucking crazy. An anguished cry escaped her mouth and she gripped the sharp edges of the bench now, hard. Why did she deserve this? She felt like everything in her life was slowly, achingly painfully collapsing all over her and she didn't know what to do. Her car had been totaled, she'd nearly been eaten, she'd pushed away another possible friend - who had just been trying to do something nice for her, but oh, no, she had to pick out all the minuscule things that he'd done wrong.

Then she wondered if she would ever actually see Loki again and her heart physically ached

Surely she could have been more understanding. Yeah, it wasn't okay to read someone's mind. But did she really have to be so hostile about it? What was she so scared of? Ashleigh stared back into the reflective surface of the steel bench, upset. She remembered the feeling of Loki's arm around her shoulders, the way his chest rumbled softly when he'd laughed at something she said. It had felt nice to joke and laugh around with someone. She couldn't believe how she'd been warm and happy by his side one minute and cold and heartsick the next.

Most of all, she was confused as to why she'd made such a connection with the god. He was a _god _after all. Not even remotely in her league. She'd barely known him and yet she felt comfortable around him, more so than with someone like Nadine - who she'd known for a year. Ashleigh's eyes flickered over the reflection of her face and the deep sadness threaded through with confusion was obvious in her expression. It was shown in the exhausted slump of her shoulders, etched all over her face and the downturned corners of her mouth. In a miserable haze, she wondered how she had let this happen to herself, how she'd let herself slowly begin the descent into utter depression.

Out of anguished frustration, Ashleigh wanted to smash something but the fire that had burned in her mind when she was an angry, pissy teenager was long gone now and she hung her head, letting her hair fall in a blonde curtain around her face. She focused on her uneven, agonized breaths and her elbows shook from holding herself up.

_Keep - it - together. _She took in a determined breath and forced herself to stand up straight, holding her head high and tilting her chin up. Sometimes she felt like she barely recognized herself. It almost looked like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown - the dreams, basically everything that had begun happening during the past few months.

"Ash?" Nadine's voice called out to her and she heard a sudden clatter of pots and pans. Ashleigh jumped, hitting her elbow on the counter and hissing in pain. "Aw, _shit_." the other girl grumbled.

"Yeah, Nadine?" she asked. Leaving her post at the dishwasher, she walked over to the door and peered through the circular window at the dark haired girl.

A flustered and red-faced Nadine popped back up, grinning sheepishly, "C'mon, those dishes ain't gonna do themselves." she wagged a finger teasingly and jabbed her thumb back behind her at the full dishwasher.

Ashleigh nodded and set to work. She bent over, crouching down and began to methodically unload the hot dishes from the open dishwasher. Hopefully it'd distract her from the previous - totally unreal - twenty four hours. Well, _hopefully _being the operative word.

* * *

**Author's Note: 26,000 WORDS! YES THAT'S AWESOME! The title came from a OneRepublic song. Just if you were curious. **

**Well, I was away for a week so I couldn't have updated as quickly as I would have liked – but this one is longer than the last two and I've got 3000 words of Chapter 5 down, so that's all good. What did you think about how I wrote Gabriel? I tried to make his internal voice different than Ashleigh's – did it work? **

**Oh, and what's this about these dreams Ashleigh's been having? Hmn… **

**And what about this weird bond between the two of them? They're both pretty confused at the moment about it but I PROMISE EVERYTHING WILL EVENTUALLY MAKE SENSE (I hope, lol) **

**Please drop a review and let me know what you think!**

**Also, if anyone's up for PMing me about my plot then go for it! I really need to talk it out with someone and work out all the mistakes and inconsistencies :) **


	5. Chapter 5

_**Where the Lines Overlap**_

…

**Chapter 5: Fortune and Flame**

* * *

Ashleigh set the family's plates down carefully in front of each person. "Just let me know if you want anything else." she told them, and gave them a distracted attempt at a smile. God,her head was throbbing. She really needed Advil - _stat_. Ashleigh was basically trying to keep herself in one piece at this point. It'd been about a week since Loki had sent her home and it was really sad that she had divided her life into two periods. Before Loki and After Loki. But she couldn't be blamed. Meeting and subsequently arguing - to put it lightly - with a god had been a life altering experience.

She was completely bone tired and exhausted. The last decent night of sleep she'd gotten was when he'd dropped her home. A week ago. She'd slept a couple hours last night and was one shitty fucking nightmare from completely collapsing and having a mental breakdown. Glancing out the window, she exhaled quietly. It was still raining outside - the weather had been absolutely indecisive for the past few weeks. Now that she thought about it, it almost reflected her inner state of mind. Chaotic. Scrambled. Lost.

The thoughts sobered her and her false smile dropped a fraction. Her cheeks hurt from beaming brightly at customers all day long and she wondered how long she'd have to keep this up. She'd moved past the point of being totally freaked out and crying her eyes out for hours on end due to the combination of lack of sleep, stress and oh yeah - the fact that pagan gods and shit were real. It felt almost like she'd used up her tear quota for the next century within those past few days. Now she didn't know what to feel.

It was a high possibility that her sore throat was going to be a permanent fixture now considering that she screamed herself hoarse every night. It was a wonder that she hadn't been evicted out of her apartment yet. To muffle her screaming, she'd shove a sock or a cloth in her mouth and reluctantly fall asleep. And on and on went the cycle. Honestly, she wasn't sure about how much longer she could hold on like this. Maybe she'd end up in the mental ward. She rubbed at her eyes roughly and turned around. She needed to go to the bathroom - splash some water over her face. Wake herself up.

The second that she found a minute that she wasn't balancing plates on her arms and trying not to spill soda on people, Ashleigh ducked through the _Employee Only _doors and slammed them shut behind her, exhaling shakily. A knock on the door jolted her out of her reverie and she looked up, startled and opened the door slowly.

Huge doe-brown eyes stared back at her with concern. It was him. The cute regular customer who liked Kodaline and recommended Bastille, and also played in a band and had the voice of an angel. She relaxed back into the door frame, leaning against it heavily.

"Uh - hey!" she managed and forced a sheepish smile. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Hey yourself," he cracked a grin at her stammering. The way his mouth pulled into that little half-grin made her insides turn to jelly. There was no way anyone could look that good. It was so unfair. "You alright there?" he asked and his face was riddled with worry.

"Yeah, uh - yeah, yeah," she brushed it off with a completely fake air of nonchalance. She could tell that her tone was far too cheery but she feared if she didn't overdo it then she'd just look like she felt. A mess. Well, wasn't she a just a little ray of sunshine today?

He didn't look like he believed her. She didn't blame him - she was a shit liar. "You sure? You ran in here - you looked pretty upset," he put a warm hand on her shoulder and she bit down hard on her lip, praying that he didn't feel the prickling of goosebumps flowering across her skin. His touch felt electrifying and she didn't think she could look him in the eyes without going bright red.

"Nah, I'm fine now - I'm _completely fine_." she grinned widely, showing her teeth and punching herself in the face internally because she was one hundred percent sure that she looked like an idiot.

"That's good," he offered and cracked a devilish grin. Cue her brain turning to mush. "So, uh, I thought we had a date this week?" The statement sounded almost like a question and it startled her - shit shit _shit_. She remembered him asking her to the gig he and his band were playing which had been two days ago and she'd totally forgot. Panic filled her and she swallowed uneasily. Dammit. What was she going to do now?

"Oh, _God_, Darren - I'm so sorry! I forgot, I just had this mental blank -" she blabbered and her hands were gesturing wildly, all over the place. Oh my God. What else could she manage to screw up?

She watched as he flashed her a crooked, charming smile. "Hey, _hey_. Don't worry 'bout it. I'll tell you how you could make up for it though…" Darren trailed off.

Ashleigh swallowed hard. "… sure…" she managed nervously.

He stood up and clapped his hands once with an air of finality. "Tell you what - you let me walk you home tonight and we'll call it even." His face was hopeful and she hated to shoot him down, but she didn't think she could really trust anyone else after - she gulped and looked down - well, after the events of the previous week. She just didn't think that it was a good idea and something felt really… _wrong_. Ashleigh felt a creeping sense of dread, like Darren had something else planned. What that was she didn't know.

She decided after a long moment of staring at him, "Yeah… look. I'm sorry but I've got a ride home with" - she looked back over her shoulder, her eyes flitting desperately across the diner and named the first person she saw - "Nadine." When she mentioned the name, she saw a small amount of open frustration flit across his face but it was concealed just as quickly.

Nadine looked up at the mention of her name and raised a questioning brow. Ashleigh internally groaned as the woman began to make her way over to the pair, smiling curiously. "Yeah?" She cracked a smile. "Can I help you?" The woman offered politely.

"Oh," Darren said, looking at her with growing condescension and she didn't feel the giddy sparks anymore. She just felt this dread twisting her stomach and he swept his messy curls off his forehead and flashed another charming grin at Nadine. "Ashleigh was just telling me about how you were giving her a ride home." His head canted to the side a little, "Right?"

Nadine looked confused for a split second, her eyes flickering over to Ashleigh confusedly but then she quickly covered up by saying, "Y-yeah! That's right, yeah," she shook her hair back off her shoulders and Ashleigh felt herself heaving a sigh of relief. Thank God for Nadine. Her legs felt wobbly and shaky and all her instincts were telling her to _run _as fast as she could, away from Darren and his pretty brown eyes and floppy mess of hair. But she stayed rooted to where she stood. The forced smile on her face was now surely turning into a sullen grimace.

Darren said nothing for a long moment. It was intensely awkward, especially considering the stinky side-eye Nadine was giving her. He looked at her, his dark brown eyes boring into her in a way that made her supremely uncomfortable. Nadine noticed this and wrapped her arm around Ashleigh's shaking shoulders.

"Look, Darren," she began, sighing loudly at the man. "Maybe you should… go." she finished with an air of finality and Ashleigh could tell that Nadine wasn't going to budge on that. She glared back at Darren with fierceness flickering behind her pleasant facade.

Darren looked a little taken aback by the suggestion and he blinked exaggeratedly, "Wha - huh? Why?" But beneath his indignant and partially offended expression, he looked coolly amused by Nadine's demand. It made her shiver. What happened to the guy who liked Kodaline and was awkward as she was? He seemed… different. Louder. Arrogant almost.

"Now." Nadine said warningly and pointed a commanding finger at the front door where the bell was tinkling merrily. "I won't ask you twice."

He licked his lips and looked back over his shoulder as if to judge how many people were in the diner. Ashleigh hated to admit it, but she shrunk behind Nadine at this point. She was tired, scared and had no idea what Darren wanted from her. At this point she was glad that she'd said 'no' because at the _predatory _look that he was giving her, being alone with him in the dark seemed dangerous.

"Fine. Fine." he said and nodded with an air of submissiveness. And then he cocked his head to the side and gazed at her with this oddly creepy smile that sent shivers running down her spine, "I'll see you around, Ash." And then, without another word, he shoved past an older woman - who shrieked indignantly and glared at him stormily - and stormed out of the diner in a temper.

The rest of the diner was silent for a moment and Nadine turned her around, pushed her back against the_ Employee Only_ doors once the chatter and buzz of noise picked back up. Ashleigh hit the wall with an _oof_, all the air escaping from her lungs.

Nadine looked freaked out and her eyes searched Ashleigh's face frantically, "You wanna tell me what the _hell _that was all about?" she demanded shakily and her voice was tense with anxiety.

"I-I don't know, Nadine, he - don't tell me you didn't feel it too." she appealed desperately, almost begging the other woman to see her point of view.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Now I think about it, I am actually gonna drive you home - I don't trust him… he gives me the creeps." she shivered and craned her neck to look back out the window, sighing when she saw that Darren hadn't come storming back in, that same coldly amused look playing on his handsome features.

And then Nadine looked over at Ashleigh, really looked at her. Her fingers came up to trace the large dark shades circling her eyes. "Jesus, woman… I hate to say it - you look _terrible_, I'm serious, when was the last time you slept?"

Ashleigh batted Nadine's fingers away with a shaky hand. "No, s'okay, I'm fine. A-Okay." she protested tiredly. A half-hearted and totally pathetic smile pulled at her lips and she shot a thumbs up sign. "Promise."

"No, no, you're not fine. I'm not a _moron_, Ash. Fine, don't tell me. It doesn't matter. How about you go home and sleep - alright? Sound okay?" she said softly, her tone concerned. She genuinely looked like she wanted to help.

Fear shot through her at the thought of going to sleep for longer than necessary. All she could remember was blood, lots of thick red blood dripping down onto a stone floor, fire flickering in the background and these wide, terrified eyes that slowly were fading into this marbled black that reflected her face. And then the man who had been terrified, petrified slowly turned into something dark, soulless, evil and cold.

She'd then woken up, collapsed in a mess on the floor, screaming herself hoarse and sobbing these high-pitched, weeping sobs. She didn't think she'd ever felt this physically sickened by anything before. And then when she'd finally calmed down and had become too exhausted to cry anymore, she had stared blankly at the wall in front of her, not bothered to wipe off the tears drying on her face. To distract herself from Nadine's concerned, worried gaze, Ashleigh looked down at her palms. There were angry red marks where she'd dug her nails deep into skin and she remembered being terrified by the blood trickling down her wrist.

Her life was wrecked and any semblance of normality was now long gone. "_No_," she said and her voice cracked pathetically. "No, Nadine - I'm fine. I… it's just been a rough week." she offered desperately. She needed to stay awake for as long as possible.

Nadine didn't look like she bought it at all but she nodded warily and said, "Well, if you wanna talk, then… you know you can tell me anything, right?" she asked, caution seeping through her tone and she placed a gentle hand on Ashleigh's shoulder. Concern tightened her features and Ashleigh's stomach jerked - she couldn't be near her right now. She didn't know why but this horrible concoction of fear, grief and confusion was screaming at her to get away from this diner _now_ but she couldn't sense anything weird about Nadine. She was going crazy. She was sure about it.

"Y-yeah, sure," she nodded jerkily and backed off with a cagey expression on her face. "I'm gonna go… uh, help Nelson with plating up the birthday party group." Before Nadine could tell her to stay, Ashleigh shoved through the door and composed herself until she didn't look like a total mess anymore.

After nearly being thrown up on by an eight year old who had eaten at least half of the cake and being screamed at by an old woman who insisted that she'd said chocolate syrup not caramel, Ashleigh finally found a moment to herself sitting alone at the register, a pen twirling between her fingers as she stared distractedly at a crumpled up napkin. The reddish light flooding in through the window lit the bench and a quick glance at her watch told her that it was 7:30. Nearly closing time. Annoyed by the bends and folds in the paper, she smoothed it out with both of her hands until it lay flat on the bench.

Putting her pen to paper, Ashleigh began to draw. As the pen skirted across the napkin quickly, she wondered why she was so calm now when she'd been completely freaked out before. Almost like she was resigned to the idea of getting home and dreaming of fire and blood. Like it didn't really bother her anymore. Briefly, she frowned, the expression screwing up her peaceful face. Calm before the storm? Maybe that was it, maybe she was in for something quote unquote _exciting_ tonight.

Her pen pressed harder into the napkin and she felt her hand cramping. Still she kept drawing. What was she going to do now? She couldn't live like this, in fear of doing something as basic as sleeping. She'd read somewhere that the human body could only last something like three days without any sleep and Ashleigh really didn't want to end up hospitalized.

So deep in her muddled thoughts, she didn't notice when someone slid into the seat next to her. "Hey, Ashleigh." their voice was bleak and tired and she heard them slump over and drop their head in their hands.

Sparing a glance towards the person who'd called her name, she exclaimed happily, "_Jackson_? Hey! How was Providence?" The eighteen year old had been away for a couple days with his parents during college break and she had missed the guy.

Jackson's expression darkened. "Yeah… not so good."

He sounded upset, she noted and frowned at his uncharacteristic glare. "Why? What happened?"

The boy brushed it off with this forced casual expression. "_Pssh_. Never mind." But his arms were crossed over his chest defensively and he was glowering at the stack of glasses in front of him angrily.

"Well," she turned the napkin around and kept drawing. "If it's any consolation, me and my parents have a shit relationship too."

Jackson glanced at her warily and straightened up, grabbing a wet rag and beginning to wipe them out. After a minute of forced calm - he was obviously warring with himself about something - he tossed the rag back on the bench and began to talk animatedly, "I-I just, _argh_!" he groaned and thrust his head into his hands.

"It's okay, Jackson. Shhh, it's okay," she dropped the pen and rubbed a soothing hand across his back gently. His shoulders shook and pain panged in her heart. Poor kid.

Jackson looked back up again and stared off at the distance, "I really thought - I don't know, that they'd be proud of me. I mean, I did everything they wanted. I went to college, got a girlfriend - pretended I wasn't… _gay _but I am and I… I don't know what to do." He admitted hopelessly, looking down and obviously ashamed of himself. "Maybe I'm just a colossal fuck up."

"Hey, don't say that… Jackson, you're not. A fuck up that is," she clarified quickly. She touched his shoulder for a couple of seconds and he glanced at her briefly before returning his gaze back to the glasses.

"I don't understand why _they _can't understand - I mean, it doesn't make me a bad person, does it?" He looked over at her, and she could see how worried he looked in that split second. Jackson looked away and ground his teeth harshly, she could tell from how his jaw was moving angrily. Startled, she sat back a few inches with what surely was a confused expression pulling her face taut. How could he think that? His boyish features were deepening with confusion and grief and she felt horrible for him.

"No. God, no." she set the pen down and had responded immediately, emphatically. Jackson blinked up at her slowly, confusedly. His brown eyes were wide and glistening with the dim light of the diner – or tears. She couldn't tell and thought that it'd be best to not point it out.

"It doesn't feel like that sometimes." he said. And he sounded completely bleak and hopeless. Jackson ran a hand through his hair - his face looked gaunt at this point. If she really looked, she could see the dark shades circling his eyes and the slight down turn to his mouth.

Ashleigh dragged a hand down her mouth, stressed out, but then Jackson clapped a hand on her shoulder affectionately and rubbed her back comfortingly. She almost felt worse - shouldn't she be the one comforting _him_? He was the one hurting. She exhaled heavily, watching as his eyes became distant, like he was losing himself to memories of what had happened. Ashleigh didn't know how she could comfort him or make him feel like it was going to be alright. What could she do? She hesitantly wrapped an arm around his shoulders and drew him close to her. Jackson responded immediately by leaning into her and draping his long arm around her waist, his head dropping down to rest against hers. Ashleigh could feel how tensely he was holding himself and knew how lost and scared he felt. She could feel his chest move when he let out a deep sigh.

"Jackson…" she managed. "I-it's okay." It was a pathetic effort but she couldn't think of anything else to say to him that would possible make anything right. She probably wasn't the best one to ask for comfort anyways. Just look at how she treated people who tried to do nice things for her. His hand still rested on her shoulder and jolted her out of her stupid self-pitying thoughts and she internally berated herself. _Stop feeling sorry for yourself, dammit. Someone else needs you. You gotta be strong. _

He gave her a tight little smile and then let go. She felt herself smiling back, a little bit though, despite everything. Clearing her throat sharply, she pushed her hair back and continued sketching mindlessly. The happy show tunes that played quietly over the loudspeakers hummed faintly in the background and she found herself tapping her feet to the beat. She remembered going to Sophia's middle school musical as a kid – Sophia had played the lead role and she recalled standing on her chair to try and catch a glimpse of her sister and giving up, running to the stage and sitting cross-legged in front of the actors and actresses with an awestruck expression on her face.

Dimly, she wondered when her life was going to go back to normal. Ashleigh felt a cynical snort screw her face up – yeah, _right_. Her life was so far past normal right now that she didn't think that it could ever be the same again. Feeling her hand start to cramp again, she dropped the pen and – wait. When had she picked the pen back up? Reluctantly, she dropped her gaze to look at what she'd drawn on the smoothed out napkin.

Holy shit. What the fuck. What – the – _actual – fuck_. Panic twisted her stomach into a little ball and she dropped the pen, the object clattering against the tiled floor loudly. No no _no _– what was going on with her? Was this some kind of gang symbol or something? She'd never seen it before and all of a sudden she was drawing it on napkins. Ashleigh was a doodler, but she could tell that this symbol held connotations of dark magic and black eyes. Just looking at it made her feel uneasy and she crumpled the napkin up abruptly.

Noticing her terror, Jackson turned to her and his eyes flitted to the crumpled up napkin. She could feel that he was slightly weirded out by her little freak out but couldn't find it in herself to care because what the _hell _was she doing drawing black magic symbols? Well, at least she thought it was a black magic symbol but she couldn't be sure. Frozen in place, she watched as he unfurled the paper and flattened it out. His brows furrowed in confusion.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the drawing. On the napkin, she'd drawn a five-pointed star inside a circle in red ink. Weird looking symbols were scratched near each point and it had a distinctly sinister feel to it. She couldn't do anything but shake her head slowly, totally confused as to what was happening to her. The symbol glared back at her and slamming both hands on the countertop, she pushed her chair back with a squeal and stood up abruptly.

"Uh, Jackson – I gotta go." She managed weakly and snatched up the drawing from his grasp. Screwing it up into a little ball, Ashleigh shoved it into her back pocket hastily. She felt like she was going to be sick when the familiar, threatening black fog flickered at the edges of her vision. Ignoring Jackson's confused protests, she flashed a strained grin at him and positively bolted for the women's room as fast as she could.

The strange looks she got from customers didn't faze her as she pushed through crowds of people. The fear that she'd be institutionalized if people saw her having a breakdown made her run faster and she shoved through the doors to the employees' bathroom. She staggered down the narrow corridor towards the doorway, her only thought being to get away from everybody in the diner. Her head was pounding and the blackness was creeping in. It felt like she was in a waking nightmare and there was no escape. Locking the door behind her with fumbling fingers, she slumped back against the door heavily and tilted her head back on the door. Ashleigh could feel herself shaking as she hesitantly reached into her back pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper again. The red symbol didn't look any less terrifying than it had ten minutes ago and she hurled the napkin across to the other side of the bathroom. It rolled to a stop at the edge of the wall.

It was too hot in the bathroom, Ashleigh decided and shakily yanked off her red apron/ The fabric soon landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. Her stomach heaved just looking at the crimson red of the apron and putting her head between her knees, she concentrated on deep breathing.

_In. And out. And in. And out. _

She started breathing so hard and fast that she was at the point where she was hyperventilating. All Ashleigh could hear around her was the rattling of chains and the crunching of bones, the hollow screams of somebody who had lost everything. The flickering shadows of fire danced across the walls. The coppery taste of blood in her mouth made her choke and retch violently – but immediately she shoved her hand in her mouth so nobody heard her – and she fell to the floor in a tumble of arms and legs. The room she was in – was she even in a room? Where was she?

All she could see when she looked around her was stone and blood, rusty chains dangling and scraping against the floor. Heat licked at her bare skin lazily and she watched as fire crawled up her arms. Once the flames began to dance across her hands, she screamed out, clawing at something that she couldn't see. She beat her arms with her hands, desperately trying to put out the fire but all she seemed to be doing was fueling the flames. Amid the ever growing blackness, something laughed chillingly,slowly. The sound rang out loud and clear, cutting through all the tortured cries for help. Help that she could tell would never come. Languid chuckles made her shiver and jerk around, looking for the voice. And then more blood dripped to the floor as somebody cried out in intelligible gargles. This all felt familiar, she knew that she'd been here all, she was here every night.

Pain seared through her head and she gasped, clutching at her head and crying out pathetically. Suddenly she wasn't in the stone room anymore and that fact made her look up, surprised and confused. She felt herself being dragged slowly somewhere and then –

– she opened her eyes cautiously and she was looking into a pair of wide green eyes that belonged to a man. Strapped down to a bloody table, he lay limply on the rusty metal bench. Blood coated the man's face and he was screaming, screaming for someone but she couldn't understand who he was calling. She tried to move, to get to this man because she could tell that he was important and that she needed to do something – but she was frozen in place, unable to move. She didn't know what was so important about this particular man but she could tell that he was meant for either great or terrible things. Somewhere, a white light shone within him and she blinked against the incandescent brightness, shielding her eyes because it was _too bright _and she might lose her sight if she looked any longer.

And when he screamed again, blood dribbling from his mouth, she screamed along with him because all she could think was that if this happened to him – the world would never be the same. The floor disappeared out from underneath her and she clawed wildly for a ledge to grab on to, to save herself from falling into the never-ending void below her but she was too late. The light, the flickering red light grew smaller and smaller above her and her body was weightless, falling for what felt like an eternity until the dark swallowed her whole.

And then, without any warning, she blinked and she was staring at the familiar wall of the bathroom. Crouched against the wall, she looked around her shakily. Everything seemed too bright compared to the crimson light of where she'd just been – she still didn't know what to call it. The lights hanging low from the ceiling blinded her so spots of black flashed in her vision and she looked down at her hands. Red crescent-shaped marks were a stark contrast to her pale palms and she curled her hands back into fists weakly just to check that she still had control of her arms and legs.

Raising her hand to her forehead, she found that her skin was clammy with sweat and that she was still shaking. Something that was either sweat or tears wet her cheeks and she dropped her arm, staring exhaustedly back at the wall in front of her, tears streaming down her cheeks as she sobbed silently. What was she going to do? She couldn't live like this. This, _this _was horrible – spending one half of her life screaming her lungs out and the other half anticipating the dreams to come with a mixture of dread and terror that made her physically sick. Burying her head in her hands, she wondered what she was going to do now.

A small part of her mind suggested that she could call Loki back.

But immediately the rest of her mind shut that part down, screaming that he was angry with her because she was being an unreasonable bitch and that she'd been overreacting and that she was just being an idiot. And Ashleigh conceded that the stubborn part of her mind was right. She couldn't call Loki. That was just… wrong. She couldn't just tell him that she didn't ever want to see him again and then just change her mind, calling him back simply because she had use of him. No. She wasn't going to do that.

Ashleigh was going to find something. She was going to fix herself. And she didn't need Loki to do it for her.

Shaking violently, she slowly crawled to her feet, her legs unsteady and leant on the door for support. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirrors in the bathroom in her peripheral vision had her groan aloud. Shit. How was she going to explain this to Nadine? And Jackson? And Nelson? And everyone else in the diner?

Resting all her weight on her elbows, Ashleigh stared into the mirror at her reflection. Her face was a sickly white, her lips standing out against the pallor of her face, the white making the bruised circles under her eyes all the more noticeable. Her eyes were red from crying and she scrubbed at her face, trying to get rid of the weak, pathetic girl she saw in the mirror. Since when did she let herself become this… _wreck_? Ashleigh had thought she was stronger than this – but, she thought with a cynical snort, she obviously wasn't. Her arms shook and she hung her head low, the top of her ponytail spilling out across the bench, the mess of blonde hair a stark contrast to the dark bench.

The doorknob rattling shocked her out of her stupor and she jumped like a frightened rabbit, shying away from the door and hurriedly dashing away the hot tears that she hadn't even noticed trickling down her face. And then all was quiet and she relaxed a little, her posture still tense Who was outside? What time was it? Checking her watch, Ashleigh balked at the figures. The watch read 9:58 and she dropped her wrist, staring blankly at the door. Then a loud thump made the wood rattle and she jumped, a shriek escaping her lips.

_Shit_ was the only word running through her mind and she shrunk back against the opposite wall, gazing at the door with a mix of fear and wariness. Fire still licked at her arms and she could still hear the rattling of chains – _no_. Ashleigh pinched herself on the arm to snap herself out of it – but jolted up as soon as there was another insistent thump coming from outside the door.

_Thump. _The door creaked, giving way a little and she called out cautiously, "I'll be out in a minute."

The noise stopped and she remained in her position, gazing at the door. Something wasn't right. Maybe it was because she was already pretty wired from the images flashing in her mind every time she closed her eyes but her instincts were screaming that she needed to get out _now_ because there was someone out there. Someone she really didn't want to see. Glancing around her, Ashleigh tried to find some sort of escape route like a window, but to no avail. She was trapped.

And that was when the door gave in completely. She jumped in surprise, gasping and slinking back into the wall. Darren was standing in the doorway, brushing off his hands casually and smirking broadly. Something about the cocky, arrogant way he was holding himself felt so off and she reached behind her slowly. Grappling for something she could use to defend herself, she shrunk back into the wall just to get as far away from him as possible.

"D-Darren?" she tried carefully.

"Heya, Ashie," he cracked a sinister grin and called her name with this _scary _overly cheery tone. Everything about him filled her with dread. His head canted to the side as he added on, "Don't even think about trying to get out - see, I'm faster than you. And my boss only said to bring you alive – didn't mention anythingabout a little... _bruising_." His smile only grew wider.

Oh, _shit_. What was Darren _talking _about? What did he want with her – what did his _boss_ want with her? Wide-eyed with fear, she blinked slowly and clenched her hands into fists. Although she was shaking badly, her resolve was firm. She was _not _going to let this douchewad _touch _her. Her hands clenched into fists and while she was terrified beyond belief, she made a break for the door. Fists swinging wildly, she charged at him, thinking about nothing else other than punching him in the face and running far, far away from him.

But as soon as she got close, he flicked his hand casually. Her body was soaring backwards through the air, weightless, and then she hit the wall with a resounding _thud_. Ashleigh could hear the crack of her head snapping back against the tiled wall of the bathroom. Something wet and warm trickled down the back of her neck and reaching her hand up, she patted at the back of her neck with growing fear. True to her expectations, her hand came back coated in blood. Dazed and weak, she couldn't do anything else as Darren neared her except for glare at him hatefully. The man loped forwards casually. That overly happy, sinister smile was still stretched across his face and revulsion filled her. He bent down to her level and grabbed her chin roughly with a hand, twisting her face to make sure she was looking at him. He smelled like liquor and sweat, Ashleigh recoiled from the smell and pressed herself back up against the wall just to get away from him.

"That's better… you're not all fired up now. Now I've just gotta wait for the boss to come and get you," he said, still smiling creepily.

"Y-you're not Darren," was all Ashleigh could say to him. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side, his brown eyes suddenly molten and he frowned.

"Huh." He said mock-thoughtfully. It was chilling to watch him smile at her again, baring sharp white teeth menacingly and looking at her with this hungry expression. And then he continued, "You're very perceptive."

'Darren' slowly canted his head to the side. He blinked once and then – Ashleigh screamed, long and loud, the sound ripping from her throat. All the memories of the previous dream came back to her in a rush, she was falling down into that black void again, the unbearable heat was still burning up her arms and the rattling chains scraping against the floor pierced her ears. She writhed, trying to erase the memories from her mind but it felt like they were burned into her brain. 'Darren' tightened his hand around her chin, slamming her back against the wall.

He watched her amusedly as she struggled, saying nothing. He didn't have to.

His pitch black eyes said it all for him.

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry about the late update! This chapter is the first one I'm not as happy with because it was really hard to write and I still don't feel like I did it justice, but I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer! Thank you for all the kind comments and the new readers – you guys are actually so awesome. The title for this chapter comes from the lyrics of the MCR song, Dead!**

**I was pretty worried about how I wrote Gabriel last chapter because I've never written him before – was it okay? **

**Also, does anyone have any theories about what's happening to Ashleigh? I'd love to hear all your ideas. I've been mentally planning out all these other scenes I want to write and I'm just so excited about this fic!**

**If there's anything you want to see in this fic, just drop me a review and I'll gladly include the idea :) **

**TO ALL MY AMERICAN READERS: Happy Fourth of July! I hope you have an awesome day, lol :D **

**Please let me know what you think of this chapter! **


	6. Chapter 6

_**Where the Lines Overlap**_

**;;;**

**Chapter 6: Hot Fudge (Here Comes the Judge)**

* * *

Ashleigh couldn't remember exactly when she'd blacked out, but all she could concentrate on right now was the insistent throbbing in the back of her head. Her eyes were barely able to focus as she opened them blearily. It felt like she was in a waking dream and that she was out of sync with her body – or was her body moving too slowly and was her mind remaining at the same speed? Huh. Feeling her head loll to the side, she furrowed her brows as she tried to remember what had happened. Something was _really _wrong, she abruptly realized. Everything was sore and aching – she could barely _see _straight and she struggled to hold her head up. Sitting on a concrete floor and pinned to the wall by some sort of telekinetic force, her gaze dropped to her legs. Sprawled out in front of her, one of them was bent at a slightly weird angle and she blinked several times – was it broken? Strangely that thought didn't inspire as much panic as it should have, which was almost worrying. She moved her leg a little but pain didn't spike through the limb. Huh.

Blinking, she finally managed to regain her sight and she found that she was slumped in the employees' bathroom and through the tiny window to the side of the wall, she could see the darkness outside. Great. It was night time. Ashleigh tried to shake her head to clear her thoughts but she felt _sick_, disorientated - everything kept swimming before her eyes and then the whole world tilted again. Her head fell onto her chest and she attempted to say something but it felt like her mouth was full of mud and she could barely say anything.

And then, looking up at the man who was sitting on the bathroom sink and swinging his legs in listless boredom, she remembered what had happened. Oh, _shit_. Exhaling heavily, Ashleigh slumped back against the wall. She vaguely recalled talking to… _Jackson? _Yes, Jackson – she had been talking to him about his trip to Providence with his parents and then… what had happened next? Tilting her head to the side, she frowned and jutted her bottom lip out. She really should be terrified, but through her dull haze, she found that being terrified wouldn't do much for her. Understanding sparked through her as she remembered – she'd drawn the weird symbol. The devils trap – wait. What? How did she know that? Physical sickness wrenched her stomach again and she felt like she was about to cry – what was going _on_?!

And then she had ran to the bathroom, clutching her head and reliving the dreams over and over again. Fire and blood and these wide, impossibly green eyes staring back at her with growing panic. Darren – _Darren _of all people, she still couldn't get her head around the fact that the awkward band geek was a black-eyed freak – had bashed the door in and trapped her head. But not before giving her one hell of a concussion. Son of a bitch, it hurt and she glowered up at the man.

Her mouth opened and she furrowed her brows in genuine confusion, still feeling dazed and confused, "How long have you been… Darren?" she asked slowly. The thought had suddenly occurred to her and fear struck her. Oh, God. Poor Darren – if he was still trapped in there somewhere.

The man turned to her and regarded her with faintly amused brown eyes. "Not long," he eventually revealed. "I've only been inside your little friend for a couple days – oh, that sounded _bad_,didn't it?" He cracked a grin, licking his lips lasciviously and snickered loudly at the pathetic joke.

Ashleigh couldn't do much else but glower at him, her eyes narrowing in anger. "What do you even _want _with me?" There was a guarded, cold quality to her tone and she pulled her arms up - although it felt like lifting fifty pound weights - to cross them over her chest.

Darren – she really didn't know what else to refer to him as – glanced back at her and pulled a face. He seemed fractionally irritated. "Sorry, sweetcheeks. That's for me to know and for you to eventually find out." He shrugged and turned away from her. His eyes flickered marbled black once more and the man leaned back against the mirror, not wanting to say anymore on the subject.

Too bad. She opened her mouth again, not caring that she was probably going to say something stupid, but then –

Blinding white light streamed from through the door, bursting through the window and this high pitched noise burned through the silence. Darren hissed something that sounded like, _fucking hell, _and turned to her with black eyes full of wrath and panic, but she didn't notice, _didn't care_ even because the room was soon filled with the bright light and it was _blinding_. Feeling slowly returned to her arms and legs and she raised her hand up to protect her eyes from the light that had seemed to have snapped her out of her dreamy, lucid state. Crawling up to a standing position, she found that she was unable to do much else but stand up and stare at the light in pure, unadulterated awe.

The ground rumbled ominously, threateningly and the walls began to shake violently – some part of her mind noticed Darren screaming and clawing at his eyes, struggling to get away from the searing light. Dimly, she wondered why because the light didn't feel hostile to her. The room suddenly erupted into blazing light, wind and raging fury – but it was so bright and she couldn't see anything. She blinked hard against the whiteness enveloping her, shielding her eyes – her ears began to ring oddly and then the sound suddenly amplified to almost unbearable levels, blasting through the air and Ashleigh clapped her hands over her ears.

But then as she looked up, she caught a glimpse of a figure standing amid the brightness. A startlingly familiar figure but with _wings_, not just the faint outlines she'd seen before. And not just the flickering set she'd seen flashing behind him, no, when she counted them, she could see three sets of blinding wings, beating powerfully and sending wind rushing towards her. But the color was the most astonishing thing – she'd always expected wings to be icy white but these… they were the color of the sunrise and the sunset combined, glorious reds and oranges and a rich, glowing golden color coming together to form wings that almost looked like fire. The inferno flaming from either side of his back warmed her and she almost wanted to close her eyes, incredulity flooding her. The sheer power and righteous fury emanating from his body made it feel like the limbs were almost tangible. Standing frozen in place, Ashleigh stared at the figure with growing awe, completely mesmerized by the fire and the warmth, the familiar magic tickling at her conscious.

In her peripheral vision, she could see Darren's form crumpled on the floor with his legs sprawled out in front of him, but what the most disturbing thing was were his eyes. Black, charred skin circled his eyes and she gasped - they had literally been _burnt out _by the blinding light and suddenly terrified, she glanced back at the figure with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

The light faded out abruptly and the ringing dimmed down until it was a faint whisper in the back of her mind. Standing in the ruined entrance to the bathroom, the doorframe cracking and splintering above him, Loki gazed back at her with a cautious expression and his fingers twitched slightly but he refrained from coming near her. Behind him, she watched his wings move with a quiet rusting sound. They had faded from their fiery brilliance and now looked as if they'd been carved from gold, shot through with dazzling streaks of bronze and amber crystal. Unable to speak, all Ashleigh could do was swallow hard and regard him with a wide eyed gaze. The feathered appendages arched upwards and flared out, spanning the room and she could feel ancient magic positively radiating from them.

He looked at her with a concerned expression and stepped forwards over the pieces of plaster falling from the roof and the bits of splintered wood. His hand reached out to her and he touched her shoulder with a surprising gentleness, a glaring contrast to the brilliant fury emanating from his body only a few seconds prior. She jumped slightly at the unexpected contact. "Kiddo?" his voice was quiet and soft, not at all like the ringing noise that had caused Darren to scream out in agony. That little crinkle between his eyebrows returned and he scanned his eyes down her body frantically, assessing the damage and controlling his expression carefully.

She felt herself slump back against the wall – she was _tired _and totally sick of everything that was going on right now, especially the little tug in the pit of her stomach that nudged at the edge of her mind when Loki appeared in the doorframe. What was going on? His wings arched in apparent… worry? She thought it was, at least. The feathers caught the dim light and shone with an ethereal glow, like nothing she'd ever seen before.

"L-Loki?" she managed. Her head tilted to the side in confusion and she regarded him strangely. "You're… back." It was a both a question and a slightly stunned comment – she hadn't expected him to want to see her again after last week. "What're you _doing _here?" Truthfully, she hadn't meant for the comment to come out quite as accusingly as it did, so she softened the blow by smiling.

He answered after a minute, "Rescuing you." His eyebrows knit together in a worried expression and he looked like he wanted to touch her again. Something stirred in the pit of her stomach, which she pushed down resolutely.

The second the words left his lips, her mouth dropped open in surprise. She was more than stunned by the fact that he'd actually help her out again – and also by his concerned expression and the way the crinkle between his brows returned when he saw blood splattered across her clothes. "Again?" she laughed weakly. "God, I'm one hell of a damsel in distress, hey?" Ashleigh cracked a grin without humor and shook her head, sighing.

"Yeah, yeah," he smiled distractedly back at her but he was still focused on the messed up state she was in, blood trickling everywhere and looking like she hadn't slept in days. Which she hadn't, but still. Aches flared up her back and she grimaced, rolling her shoulders back even as they protested, the limbs screaming out with pain.

His hand brushed her bare skin where her neck met her shoulder and she shivered in response. All of a sudden, she jolted because familiar heat was flooding through her again and she could feel the back of her skull fuse back together and when she lifted her hand up, she watched as her skin knit itself back together with a dazed sort of wonder. His wings rustled in response to the use of the magic and extended to an even more impressive length, the dim light of the bathroom casting light onto the golden feathers. They were almost filling the entire room and they were _glowing, _making her feel safe and comforted. At home – which was kind of weird. She pushed down the confused feelings and let herself submit to the comforting feeling that came hand in hand with looking at his wings.

And then the warmth was gone and Ashleigh missed it as soon as it had left. She felt… empty now. Cold. Mourning the lack of warmth, she wrapped her arms around herself childishly. He suddenly realized that his hand was still brushing her skin and he let go and stepped back a little bit. Soon after, his expression became carefully guarded and he didn't say anything, just regarded her with an inscrutable expression. Feeling light-headed from the magic healing cycle she'd just been through, Ashleigh blinked heavily against the accompanying dizziness, struggling to form a coherent string of thought. What did she say now? Thank you? Not knowing why, Ashleigh decided that 'thank you' probably wasn't enough. She owed him her life several times over and how did you thank someone who did that for you? Shaking her head, she decided she didn't know. A giggle spluttered from her mouth as she blinked again, dazed and totally out of it.

So, she settled for saying woozily, "Your wings… they're _pretty_… goldish-reddish-yellowish?" Nodding with a stupid smile on her face, Ashleigh dropped her head and giggled. "They're really shiny too – they kinda look like the sunset or something."

If she had looked up, she would have seen Loki's stricken expression. "You can see my _what_?" Panic tinged his voice and his hands gripped her shoulders tightly, their searing warmth burning through the thin fabric of her shirt. His fingers came down to tilt her head up off her chest and his golden eyes bored into her with a certain intense quality to them. "My _what, _Ashleigh?" He sounded almost confused and terrified. He'd called her 'Ashleigh'. Not Ashie, or Ash – but Ashleigh. Something serious was up.

And she giggled in response, batting his hands away and slipping out of his grasp. Ashleigh jabbed a finger at him and gestured vaguely to the magnificent wings spanning out to the size of the cramped bathroom. A small part of her wondered how much bigger they got and decided that she'd ask him sometime. "Your _wings_, moron. Your _wings _– hey, I didn't know Loki had _wings!_" Then a thought struck her and she added on, squinting her yes and tilting her head to the side. "I didn't know that Loki had healing powers either – what the hell kind of Norse god are you? My mythology professor didn't tell me anything 'bout _that_…" she slurred and dropped her hand down to her side, her arm dangling uselessly.

"Ash-" he reached out for her again but she skirted out of his grasp, wagging her finger mock-reprimanding. She stumbled over her own two feet and righted herself just as quickly, all the while watching Loki's oddly concerned expression. Why the hell did _he _care? He didn't even know her – Jesus, this was getting _weird_. Ashleigh felt herself hiccup and she chuckled loudly.

"Nuh-uh. You gotta tell me what you _really _are – then you can take me _whereverrrr _you want." she grinned and poked him in the shoulder. "Pinky-swear." She offered mock-solemnly and waggled her little finger. She felt kind of drunk, unable to control herself and filter what she was blabbering out and there was also the fact that her arms and legs weren't functioning properly – but the thought didn't bother her as much as it should have. Her face twisted into a pleading expression and she whined, "Come _on_, loser. We don't have all day. Or night." Confusion twisted her face at the addition to her drunken statement and she held up one finger, "Wait wait wait, is it even night or day?" and then she burst out laughing – the rational part of her brain, the one that took the reins during the day was totally subdued by the giddy feeling rocketing through her veins.

He said nothing but shame burned in his gaze and his mouth twisted apologetically. Why he looked shameful, she didn't know, furrowing her brows in response. Loki reached out for her once more, drawing her in by the hand with increasing gentleness and said slowly, "Ash – I'm _sorry_- " It sounded genuine and he really did look like he hated what he was about to do. She tilted her head to the side, confused and trailed her fingers up across the side of his cheek.

"Don't be. W-what's wrong?" she asked softly and cut across him swiftly, the more rational side of her brain that was rolling its eyes and telling her how much of a sap she was being was squashed down by the giddy haze the magical healing cycle had immersed her in. He looked at her for a long moment and dropped his head. Loki's fingers pinched the bridge of his nose tightly.

"Whatever happens, just know that I'm really sorry about this – I-I _hate_ this," he said, wrecked. Loki's expression showed immense guilt and his wings arched up uneasily before coming down to lie flat against his back.

"Loki, what's going on?" she stepped away from him uneasily, red-alarms blaring. The look on his face was uncharacteristic of him and she backed up, suddenly wary of him.

And then Loki pressed his fingers to her forehead and she felt herself falling down, down, down into blackness.

;;;

Oh, _God _– her head was aching and she moaned out loud into her pillow. Even though she was as tired as fuck, her mind was still alert and registering everything around her. The soft, familiar bedspread under her body and brushing against her fingers, the faint whir of the air-con in the background and the deep breathing that she could hear beside her.

Ashleigh opened her eyes a smidgen and pushed herself up into a sitting position and rubbed at her eyes harshly. _What? _Where was she? As soon as the blackness faded from her eyes, she blinked, startled. She was in her room, strewn out on her bed in an ungraceful fashion, which lead her to wonder – how did she get there? And who was snoring next to her?

She yawned loudly and sighed, craning her neck to look over to the side of her. Ashleigh nearly fell off her bed at the sight before her.

Loki was propped up in a chair, splayed all over the wooden furniture and snoring loudly. His face looked peaceful when he was asleep and she couldn't help but think it was a nice expression on him. His messy brown hair was falling in his eyes and his feet were kicked up on her desk and she noticed with a small amount of panic – her sketchbook was open. Shit. That was where she'd drawn most of the things she'd seen in her dreams as a way of getting rid of the images. It worked for the most part.

What if he'd seen them? The thought made her stomach drop suddenly as it occurred to her. Ashleigh flinched upright and got off her bed hurriedly, slipping and sliding off in a tangle of limbs and ever so quietly shutting the sketchbook and slipping it in a random drawer so hopefully Loki wouldn't bring it up.

Wait – why was _Loki _here? Wasn't he pissed at her? Wait – what had even happen before she'd conked out? She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, rubbing at her aching forehead – and why in the hell was her head hurting so badly? Squinting ahead of her, Ashleigh tried to recall what had happened before she blacked out. All she could remember was a fat lot of nothing and her head panged sharply in response. Everything after her conversation with Jackson was a hazy blur and she tilted her head to the side, worried.

Quietly as not to wake the sleeping Norse god beside her, Ashleigh slipped off her bed and began to make her way to her kitchen – she needed to brush her teeth and get rid of the awful taste in the back of her mouth_. _Now. Loki's heavy snoring continued, but as a floorboard creaked under her foot, they stuttered. Her breath caught and she remained motionless, frozen in her doorway. She could hear him shifting around in the chair, shuffling his position and possible stretching out a kinked limb.

A loud yawn came from the chair and she looked over to him carefully. He rubbed at his eyes blearily and blinked at her, still groggy with sleep. His expression was kind of cute, she'd admit. Not that he'd ever reciprocate the feeling, some voice in her mind mocked and Ashleigh had to look down as she worked her jaw sourly.

Turning to greet the Norse god she'd parted on particularly shitty terms with, Ashleigh kept her expression carefully neutral. "Uh, hey." Nice one. Great conversation starter there, Ashleigh, showcase your fantastic social skills, why don't you?

"Hey yourself." He replied and his eyes still had the same shine she remembered from Venice. The comment made her feel uneasy – she didn't know why though. Pain flashed through her head and she blinked hard.

"Why are you here?" Ashleigh asked, not in an aggressive way, but in a genuinely curious way.

"Oh," Loki stretched languidly in her chair, his eyes squeezed closed for a few seconds. "You ran into a couple of demons, I was in the area and I helped you out – you got a pretty bad knock on the head there." he motioned to her head. Something about his story rang off but she couldn't figure out what exactly was bothering her and she regarded him warily.

"Right," she answered shortly, taking great interest in her shoelaces. "Um, thanks." Something about his story rang weirdly but she decided not to push it. Ashleigh really did like him and besides, she'd already told him not to mess with her body or mind before and he'd taken that on board.

Cue an awkward beat between them, but Loki opened his mouth again. "Look, kiddo – I'm sorry." His abrupt apology made her snap her head back up and she regarded him with great confusion. What was – oh. That. When she didn't reply, he continued, "I-I didn't know you couldn't swim and I know that doesn't fix it, but I hope you'll take this into consideration." He looked hopeful and she opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out.

She didn't know what to say because truthfully, she'd now moved on to blaming herself for the incident.

"Hey, _hey _– it's okay. It's my fault, really. You didn't know and I was being a bitch about it, so I'm sorry too." Ashleigh had only spoken for because she really needed to get it off her chest and for the sake of getting him to talk to her - the way his eyes were darkened, his expression pained and his shoulders slumped made her worry for him.

Loki kept staring at her with gold eyes that were all surprise with a hint of confusion. "What?" He leaned forwards and pushed his eyebrows together.

Uneasy and feeling awkward, she responded, "Look, how about we agree that we were both being dicks about it and move on, okay? Sound good?" Ashleigh raised her eyebrows hopefully and smiled encouragingly.

Loki smiled a little, his eyes flickering with something she couldn't quite identify. "Yeah. That sounds good." He paused, his face suddenly brightening as a thought occurred to him. "Hey – I've got a _wicked _idea." A mischievous expression split his face and he leaned forwards, his tone impish and conspiratorial. "How about we –"

"If it involves anything illegal, I'm out," she cracked a grin at the Norse god, who was now pouting and looking at her with this pleading expression. She felt almost like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, a weight she'd never really noticed in the first place.

"Aw – are you kidding me?" he protested loudly. But then looking at her faux-stern expression, he slouched down. "Fineeee. You're no _fun_." He jutted his lower lip out and tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling, bored. AS soon as he figured out her chair could spin around, he pushed off the side of her desk and whirled around – Ashleigh worried that he might make himself sick, but was too amused by his gleeful expression to say anything.

"God, you can be insufferable." Ashleigh jabbed at his shoulder teasingly and with his eyes still closed, he poked his tongue out at her and decided not to grace that with a decent response.

"Most people find do me annoying," he said contemplatively, almost in agreement with her.

"That's radical information right there." She quipped sarcastically and laughed at his mock-hurt expression.

"But, as I was _saying_, I'm artistic – the world doesn't _understand _me, Ashie!" he cried out, tone filled with exaggerated offence and his face wounded looking.

She fixed him with a flat expression. "My heart bleeds for you." Ashleigh deadpanned in the most monotonous voice she could muster. Loki shoved her gently and she didn't even try to sit back up, instead flopping back down on her bed and sinking down into the covers. "God, I've missed this," she sighed, her voice muffled by the pillow. Her body ached with the need to lie down – she was just generally so exhausted, mostly from the lack of sleep and all the physically sickening dreams she'd been having. And also because she couldn't remember what she'd been dreaming about when Loki had sent her to sleep. Her eyes flitted over to the half-open drawer where her sketchbook had been shoved. The black cover peeked out of the drawer and the need to get up and close the drawer poked at her mind but she dismissed the thought. Maybe if she stopped looking at it, then Loki wouldn't notice it.

"What – me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, loser. My bed and I have an unbreakable bond and I'm just happy to be reconciling our relationship," she defended. "Just because you don't need to sleep – wait, do you?"

Loki chuckled in response to her random question. "Nah. It doesn't mean that I don't appreciate a good couple hours of shut-eye, though. You, however –" he pointed at her, pulling a face "- you have the most intense relationship with your bed that I've ever seen."

"What can I say," she murmured. "I love sleeping."

"Aw." Loki reached over and ruffled her blonde hair over her face. She spat a mouthful of hair out of her mouth, batting his hand away gently. "Kitty likes to scratch?" Her expression grew more and more unamused by the second at the remark and he added on, "What? You kinda look like a _lion_ or something – what with that mane you've got going on."

"Shut up," she groaned but still self-consciously raked her hand down her hair. Her hand got stuck half-way through and she groaned aloud. Dammit. She hated it when this happened – perks of having thick, messy hair. _Not. _ Loki smoothed his hand down over her hair and the warmth of his magic shot through her again – suddenly her hair was wavy and sleek, her hair floating out around her in a golden blonde cloud – not greasy and disgusting, not dry and brittle. Soft and _incredible_. "You're _awesome_. Can you do my hair every day?"

Loki chuckled and slapped his hands on his thighs. "Oh, stop it, you. You're gonna make me _blush_." He checked the watch that glinted on his wrist and looked back up at her. "C'mon, champ. If we're gonna get outta the house, now would be the time to do it."

Groaning loudly in exaggerated protest, Ashleigh disentangled herself from her pillow and propped herself up. Her hands came up to rub at her eyes groggily. "What do you wanna do?"

He shrugged and pulled a thoughtful face. "I don't know." The shift from thoughtful to teasing in his expression was instantaneous and he wiggled his eyebrows. "As long as I'm with you, Ashie, _dahling_, I'd be happy wherever we went," he proclaimed in a cringe-worthy British accent, the exaggerated inflections mangling the word darling.

"Aw, shush."

"Come on – where'd you wanna go?" Loki asked.

"I just asked you." she pointed out.

He rolled his eyes and sighed faux-exasperatedly. Loki held his arm out for her in an old-fashioned, courtly sort of gesture. She let a surprised smile twist her lips. Accepting his arm and pulling herself upright, she surprised herself by answering, "Anywhere. Let's go anywhere."

"Anywhere." Loki repeated contemplatively then shrugged. "I can do anywhere." And then his warm hand wrapped around hers, fingers interlacing and then she was gone.

;;;

They appeared outside an old-fashioned looking ice-cream parlor, Ashleigh leaning on Loki for support – she was never going to get used to teleporting around the globe. It was a fact. His arm was locked securely around her waist, keeping her steady as she staggered around dizzily. Blinking dazedly up at the red and white striped curtains and the swirly pastel writing above the front door, she made out, _World's Best Ice Cream, est 1950._

Loki caught her gaze and cracked a fond grin, pointing a finger up at the sign. "They really do have the best ice cream – came here once in the nineties and came pretty much every day last year, and oh my God." He nodded, eyebrows raised emphatically for emphasis. "It was awesome."

She snickered and put her hand over her mouth, still laughing. "You sound _way_ too into ice cream."

He jabbed her with his elbow playfully. "Ice cream is heaven, and anyone who says it's not is in denial." Reaching over to ruffle her now smooth hair again, he fixed her with a mock-stern expression and said, "It's sad but it's true."

She pushed his hand away, grinning as she did so and shaking her head so that wisps of blonde hair tickled her face. Ashleigh looped her thumbs in her jeans pockets and walked up to the door, pushing it open cautiously. A little bell tinkled above her and – holy _shit_. The scent of hot fudge sauce and… was that caramel? Yeah, she decided, sniffing appreciatively once more. Just looking around at the old-style set up of the ice cream parlor, Ashleigh could feel her mouth beginning to water. Only a few groups of people sat scattered inside, tall cups filled with ice cream and sauce sitting partially finished in front of them. Suddenly aware of Loki coughing behind her, she stepped to the side and let Loki pass through.

"Ladies first," she said teasingly.

He didn't hesitate in shooting back, "Age before beauty."

"Hate to point out the master flaw, but you're older than me," she stated in a matter of fact tone, raising her eyebrows.

Loki didn't reply, only stuck his tongue out at her with his eyes screwed closed. She poked his cheek in response and made her way up to the counter. The chill of the ice cream display wafted off the glass and she shivered. How was she supposed to _choose_? She could see all her childhood favorites: fudge brownie, salted caramel, cookies and cream. The sight of all the ice cream tubs stacked next to each other brought her back to hot summer days down in Georgia during their annual summer holiday there to visit her mom's family. Ashleigh didn't tan – no, she forgot sunscreen and positively _roasted. _In all the family pictures of her, Sophia and the rest of her cousins, Ashleigh looked like the red cooked sausages that her dad would always use to make hotdogs (and then slather them with ketchup and mustard – which she found gross, but to each his own) and her sister had looked gloriously tanned. She remembered not letting anyone touch or hug her after she'd gotten sunburned, mostly because it had been too _fucking painful_.

A fond smile spread across her face as she recalled sitting in a bath filled with ice cold water, dressed in her one piece and unable to move because she was too busy recovering from roasting alive in the hot Georgia summer. Somebody clearing their throat politely behind the counter drew her back to the present and she looked up suddenly, "Wha – sorry, pardon?"

A cheery looking older woman smiled encouragingly at her and repeated, "You know what flavor you want, hon? Mint choc-chip is always popular," she raised a finger for each flavor she listed apparently from memory. "Strawberry Chunk is nice too… what am I forgetting? Oh! Oh, yeah, Blueberry Bliss! Are you a blueberry kind of girl?" The woman turned to a carton filled with purpley-blue ice cream and dug around in the top draw for a couple of minutes. After a moment, she brandished a cup of plastic colored spoons and sat them on the top of the counter, canting it towards her questioningly. "I can get you a sample, if you want?"

"Uh…" Ashleigh looked back at Loki. She'd probably be a while and he looked like he knew what he wanted. Pointing towards the ice cream, she offered, "You wanna go first? Sorry – I'm just deciding." She addressed the woman somewhat apologetically.

"Sure," Loki made his way up to the front and leant down on the counter, grinning happily. "Hey, Sally."

The woman behind the counter, Sally, jumped and dropped her ice cream scooper. "_Loki?_" She asked incredulously, squinting a little at him and readjusting her glasses. "That really you?"

"Sure is," he replied, pushing himself up off the counter and leaning against the wall. "How've you been? How has business been - good?"

Sally pulled a face and made a so-so motion with her hand, "Eh, it could have been better, but I'll take what I can get." She leant forwards and rested all her weight on her arms, looking around the diner with an air of fondness. Her eyes sought out Ashleigh hovering in the corner and her face brightened.

"Who's your friend?" She waggled her eyebrows teasingly and smiled at him, to which Loki rolled his eyes at and grabbed her by the wrist gently, tugging her over to his side.

"This is Ashie – Ash, this is Sally." Loki introduced and Ashleigh waved shyly, cursing her social awkwardness. Dammit. She found that when introducing herself to people, she often came off as standoffish and rude – but she wasn't. Not once you got to know her anyways. Well, she hoped, at least.

"Er… hi?" It came out more as a question rather than a greeting but Sally chuckled anyway and leant forwards again, readjusting her glasses and peered at her curiously.

She clacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth appraisingly and Ashleigh felt slightly awkward under her speculative gaze – but then she looked to Loki. "She's a pretty girl," she grinned at Loki and turned back to her. "He's a good guy, you know." Sally addressed Ashleigh with a knowing glint in her eyes and then slapped Loki's shoulder mock-reprimanding as he nodded emphatically, teasingly.

"Wait," Sally said and stopped short. A grin spread across her face and she pointed at the two of them. "She your girl?"

"No, no no no," Ashleigh cut in, laughing a little. She wasn't sure how she felt about being referred to like a possession rather than a person – not that she resented Sally for it, but it did kind of annoy her. Also the underlying romantic implication made her stomach twist.

"Nah." Loki corrected Sally lazily and slapped a casual hand on Ashleigh's shoulder. "She's a friend of mine – aren't you, Ashie?" He crooned and pinched her cheek and shook her face back and forth, gently though.

Trying her hardest to be grumpy at the trickster god and failing epically, Ashleigh pushed his hand away and scowled playfully. "Yeah," she muttered under her breath and rolled her eyes. "More like _hostage_."

He put a hand over his heart, gasping. "Jesus, that _hurts_, Ash! And to think I was gonna buy you ice cream!"

"Nah, hers is on the house. You're paying for yours." Sally chipped in and cracked a grin at Loki, smirking teasingly. At his protests ("B-bu – what? No! That's so unfair!), she reprimanded, "That's what you get for being rude to a lady." Turning to Ashleigh and blocking the god from view. "What do you want, sweetheart?" Her scooper was poised over the tubs and she gestured vaguely at each one. "There's plain Vanilla, Butter Pecan, Yoghurt Swirl, Bubblegum Delight, Salted Caramel – yeah, I think I already mentioned that one. Uh…"

"Hey, can I try the strawberry one?" Ashleigh asked, her gaze fixed on a tub of pink ice cream. It was true, she generally hated fruit flavored stuff but the strawberry flavored candy Loki had given her was pretty nice so she decided to branch out. Maybe she'd end up liking strawberry ice cream.

Sally nodded and fumbled around for a colored spoon, scooping a bit out and handing the blue spoon with a lump of pink ice cream balanced precariously on it to Ashleigh. As soon as Ashleigh took it, she immediately wondered why the hell she hadn't ever had strawberry ice cream before. Glancing over at Loki, she had to concede that his judgment was right. That ice cream was pretty damn good.

"Uh, can I have a scoop of that?" She asked, dropping her spoon in the trash and pointing at the pink ice cream.

"Sure," Sally answered and scooped out a large chunk of strawberry ice cream, dropping it into a tall sundae glass. "You want anything else? Yoghurt might taste nice?" she offered.

"Sure. Why not?" Ashleigh accepted the tall spoon and the sundae glass, jerking her thumb over to a table by an open window. "I'm just gonna go sit over there – you wanna come once you've got yours?" She asked.

Loki nodded and turned to Sally with a charming grin. Ashleigh didn't hear what he was ordering, instead she was focused on devouring her ice cream. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually sat down and eaten something other than a bag of nuts or sultanas – she just never seemed to have _time _or the lack of nausea to eat anything substantial. Her spoon dropped back into the sundae glass with a clang and pain flashed through her head at the thought of her dreams. Nope, _no,_ she wasn't going to think about this now. Later. She'd deal with it later.

Over at the counter, she heard Sally say loudly, "_Jesus_, we should make this combination an item on the menu – name it _Diabetes _with a side of _Heart Attack _sauce." Ashleigh snorted into her ice cream but stifled her giggles and stuck another spoon of strawberry ice cream in her mouth.

Suddenly, the bell tinkled again and a woman who looked far too professional for the homey environment of the ice cream parlor entered the room. She was _gorgeous_, Ashleigh noted. Dark skin paired with darker eyes and hair complimented her red blouse nicely and she walked with an air of sophistication most people could only dream of achieving. She scanned her eyes around the diner and the woman's dark eyes locked on Ashleigh, who promptly shivered and gulped.

With a snap of her fingers, the noise and bustle in the parlor stopped abruptly. People slowly froze where they were and Ashleigh jerked around in her seat, totally freaked out. What – the – _hell – _was going on? The woman just stared right on back at her and began to walk slowly towards her, hips swaying and her chin lifted high in the air. Ashleigh didn't miss the appreciative little once-over she gave Loki's hunched form and a thought struck her – was she a goddess? She stopped time, so that seemed like a logical conclusion. Her fingers gripped the cold metal of her spoon tightly as the woman drew closer, scanning her eyes coldly up and down her form. Ashleigh consciously wiped at the sides of her mouth to remove any possible traces of strawberry ice cream, watching the woman with wary eyes.

She stopped in front of her and after a moment of thought, took a seat in front of her.

Just as Ashleigh was about to ask the woman her name shakily, she asked, "You must be Ashleigh Waldenberg, am I right?" The woman arched an elegant eyebrow and coolly looked her up and down.

"Y-yes. Who're you?" Ashleigh pried carefully.

The woman looked unfazed. "My name is Kali." Kali clicked her red nails against the top of the table and shot another look over at Loki.

"Like the Hindu goddess, Kali?" she clarified quickly, attempting to redirect her attention.

A roll of Kali's dark eyes ensued. "Yes. That would be me." The goddess looked supremely bored with the lack of interesting conversation Ashleigh was providing. _Well, fuck you too, _she frowned and turned away a little from the goddess.

"I heard that." Kali stated mildly, picking at her nails and looked completely unconcerned.

_Shit shit shit _– she remembered Kali's reputation. The name 'The Destroyer' – another one of Kali's titles – sprung to mind quickly from one of her mythology classes and she swallowed heavily, her hands shaking slightly. Oh, crap. What did the goddess want from her? What could she possibly give her? Her soul – oh, shit. No… Please don't let that be what she wants, Ashleigh begged internally.

Kali looked irritated now, "I don't want your _soul_. Don't be stupid." She heaved an annoyed sigh and fixed Ashleigh with her veiled gaze.

"Well, uh, what _do _you want?"

Seemingly ignoring the question, Kali turned to her, suddenly attentive. "Loki has expressed a certain interest in you," she claimed loftily, toying with a lock of black hair. "I want to know why."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She managed carefully. Was the goddess… _jealous_? Ashleigh hadn't missed the way Kali had looked at Loki as she had passed by him and she certainly hadn't missed the little glances she kept on giving him.

"Loki has devoted a fair amount of time to you, neglecting some of his own responsibilities as the God of Mischief and I want to know what you could possible interest him with." Kali's tone suddenly turned a whole lot more intense, her expression hardening and her brows arching again.

"Maybe you should ask him that." Ashleigh offered carefully, unsure what she was supposed to say. Was Kali expecting her to give relationship advice or something? Well, she could pick up a copy of _Cosmo _for that, especially considering that Ashleigh was the absolute last person anyone should be asking about romance.

Kali rolled her eyes again and scoffed. "You don't think I have?" The goddess questioned and looked at her like she was completely stupid.

"What - picked up a copy of _Cosmo_?" Ashleigh asked disbelievingly. Kali didn't exactly seem like the audience _Cosmo _was marketing to. Unless the magazine had a section on pillaging and murdering - which, call her crazy, but she was pretty sure they didn't have.

"_No_. Human entertainmet is shallow and unintelligent," Kali dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I was referring to your idea of talking to him about it but he's too busy with you to say anything of interest." Ashleigh raised her eyebrows at the little hint of resentment she could detect in the woman's voice, the tiny streak of wistfulness threading through her hard exterior.

"Uh, I'm not sure exactly what I'm supposed to say to that. If you want relationship advice, you have come to the _wrong _person." Ashleigh pointed out cautiously, vocalizing her thoughts with a matter-of-fact tone in place.

The goddess looked at her with those big dark eyes again, the ones that betrayed nothing of what she was feeling inside. Her gaze narrowed a fraction and she turned her full attention to Ashleigh, who quivered under her gaze but made a commendable effort to remain still. "Watch your tone with me, _child_. I could turn you to dust in a matter of seconds." Kali snapped her fingers for emphasis and the spoon she was holding suddenly collapsed into tiny little metal grains.

Startled, Ashleigh replied. "I understand." She tried to keep her tone respectful and quiet this time around, figuring that Kali wasn't anywhere near as lenient and laid back as Loki. Who she seemed to have some sort of weird attachment to. Ashleigh just all out didn't feel like getting turned to dust today, so kissing Kali's ass seemed like the safest option.

"I don't like you, Ashleigh Waldenberg and find that Loki's desire to spend time with you is unhealthy for someone of his status. I will be watching you. Do you understand me?" Kali revealed and she didn't break her burning gaze. Ashleigh felt fear creep into the back of her mind and she said nothing, only bowed her head and licked her lips carefully. Kali canted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, her hair falling over her shoulder. "I said, _do you understand me_?" she repeated forcefully.

Ashleigh nodded and Kali settled back in her seat, her eyes never leaving Ashleigh. "Good." And with a click of her fingers, Kali disappeared and time continued on as normal, leaving Ashleigh to stare blankly at the spot she'd just been in.

She was so befuddled and generally confused by what had happened that she didn't notice when Loki sat down, setting his massive sundae in front of him. He waved a hand in front of her face, hoping to snap her out of her daze. "You there?"

She blinked. And blinked again. In front of her own partially finished ice cream sat this… _massive _tower of ice cream scoops, all stacked precariously on top of each other and melting into this ice cream sauce. She couldn't deny that it looked absolutely delicious. There was caramel, chocolate fudge and cookie dough ice cream, with a dangerous looking amount of fudge sauce drizzled all through the ice cream. Ashleigh made an awestruck face at the god, who was currently looking at the sundae excitedly.

"T-that is impressive," she said shakily, sticking another bite in her mouth. How the hell was he going to eat all that without throwing up? She really didn't feel like cleaning multi-colored puke off a surface today, she thought, eying the monster Sunday warily.

Loki didn't see her half-grossed out, half awestruck expression because he was too focused on sticking his spoon in his mouth, his face shining with pride. "I like sweet things." He shrugged innocently and opened his mouth wide enough to fit a scoop with all three flavors of ice cream in.

"Oh my fucking God," Ashleigh stammered, still marveling at the sheer size of the bite. He was probably going to die of a heart attack after he finished. "How are you even still _alive_?" she managed. He shrugged lopsidedly and hastily wiped his mouth – she had to laugh at the chocolate smeared on his chin. "You loser." Ashleigh shook her head slowly, sighing.

Suddenly acutely aware of the conversation she had had with Kali only a few minutes prior, Ashleigh sat back in her chair, her own ice cream forgotten. What was she going to do now? The goddess had made it perfectly clear that she didn't want Ashleigh _near _Loki for God knew what reason – she still suspected it was jealousy. Glancing over at the trickster, Ashleigh decided that she really didn't want to ruin the peace again over some petty goddess. But then the more rational part of her brain reminded her that she _was _the Destroyer and didn't look like she'd be willing to give Ashleigh any more chances if she thought Ashleigh was still trying to 'steal her guy' or whatever it was that Kali thought she was doing. Please, like the goddess actually had much competition when it came to her and Loki's relationship. Kali was a _goddess _– and a very attractive one at that. Ashleigh usually went for guys when it came to romance but she couldn't deny that Kali was a beautiful woman. The thought sobered her for a minute and she almost felt sort of inadequate compared to the Destroyer.

Deep in thought, she swirled her spoon around in her glass and stared at the sludgy pale pink mixture she'd mixed her ice cream into. God, why was it that every time she reached a bit of… _closure _in her life, that another door to uncertainty and nights spent awake opened? She just didn't get it. Another symbol flashed across her mind but this time it was different, painted on a gold-trimmed wall by someone's fingers in something that looked like blood. Pain flashed through her forehead sharply and she pressed a hand to her temple.

When he noticed how withdrawn she'd suddenly become – she was too busy thinking about Kali and what the goddess had demanded of her, and the symbols – he set his spoon down and gazed at her seriously. "Come on, what's up? You've been quiet since me and my future case of diabetes got back." He cracked a grin at the lame joke and she tried to mimic him, but her expression came out more as a tight grimace.

She really wanted to answer him with, _oh, nothing. Your homicidal Hindu goddess friend just appeared smack out of the blue and told me she hated me straight up and wanted me to stay away from you just when we'd kind of made up and everything was looking alright. Also, I've been getting these dreams where I have to watch people getting tortured and then I get set on fire. I also haven't slept properly for weeks. Like I said, nothing, really. _But she took a bite of pink sludge, not even really tasting it anymore, looked in his concerned golden eyes and lied to his face. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Ashleigh could tell he didn't fully believe her but settled for her lame excuse. "Sure. But if anything's up, you know you can tell me, right?" he said carefully, never breaking eye contact except for when he began sucking on his spoon to remove all traces of the sticky fudge sauce.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." she responded elusively, tracing her finger around the rim of her sundae glass, ignoring the way her heart kind of gave a little flutter at the fact that he was willing to listen to her rant about her multiple issues. To think that he'd only known her for a couple of days, she shook her head in response to the thought. It was just that something about him felt so familiar, like she'd known him all her life and was being slowly drawn to him.

He looked at her for one more minute, his expression indescribable before he returned back to his glass, scraping out all the chocolate sauce. When Ashleigh bowed her head down to look at her shoes to avoid letting him see her blushing, she let a tiny smile slip across her face. Maybe if she had Loki, she could get through the dreams and the bloodthirsty goddess hell-bent on keeping them apart. Just maybe.

* * *

**Author's Note: Long chapter this time! 8k words! That's awesome – especially because WLO just hit 41k words! This is also the longest chapter so far - about 100 words longer than the first chapter, which was 8.7k. That is incredible – I'd just like to give a massive thank you to all the people who have read/favorited/reviewed/followed this story. I never thought it'd get attention, let alone this much. So, I think it's incredible that what originally was an one shot turned into this story :) ****All of your comments have brightened my day and I am so grateful to all of you! **

**Just before I forget, the title for this chapter comes from a Robbie Williams song off his album **_**Escapology**_**.**

**Ooh, there was lots of drama this chapter – Ashleigh saw Gabriel's wings! I really hope I did them justice. What did you think of their little conversations? And what about Kali? Is she jealous of our favorite trickster god and Ashleigh's relationship? So many unanswered questions :) **

**Please drop a review and tell me your predictions for the story! **


	7. Chapter 7

**_Where the Lines Overlap_**

**;;;**

**Chapter 7: Oh, Calamity **

* * *

Gabriel sat on the couch beside Ashleigh's armchair, the aforementioned girl draped across the chair and breathing in little puffs. Her expression was soft and peaceful when she slept, he noticed fondly. When she rolled over, he could see the dark circles under her eyes and had to wonder what was keeping her awake. Was it her job? His brows pushed together thoughtfully. During his time among the humans, the angel had discovered that work happened to be a big source of stress. He had almost wanted to tell them to relax and take some time to themselves, but Gabriel knew what it was like to want to impress a boss or… a father.

They had gotten back from the ice cream parlor a few hours ago and had spent time on Ashleigh's couch eating marshmallows (well, he had been the one on the couch and eating marshmallows. Ashleigh had just kicked her shoes off and curled up in an armchair) and watching movies, mostly in silence. Ashleigh had been quiet and pensive ever since they got back and simply to break the horrible thick silence, Gabriel had turned on the TV. Keeping his gaze on the screen, he'd occasionally looked over at her. He didn't like the way the dark and brooding expression on her face turned the corners of her mouth down and made her eyes glassy. But Gabriel knew what she was mulling over.

Yes, Gabriel knew that Kali had paid a special little visit to Ashleigh, warning her to back off or else. Kali had no idea that he had been listening, but the influence of her magic barely affected his. It had been necessary to pretend that he was frozen because otherwise Kali would begin to suspect something and millennia of pretending to be a pagan would be undone.

He had also been curious as to what _Kali _of all people had possibly wanted with Ashleigh but then he understood. Kali was jealous of Ashleigh. Kali, the Hindu goddess and self-proclaimed 'Destroyer' was jealous of a human. A faint humored smile tugged at his mouth. Gabriel figured that it irked her a lot more than she let on and he was left to wonder why she was jealous.

In their dysfunctional relationship, Gabriel had often felt like he was the one keeping it afloat. When they had first met, Kali was like an inferno and he had been a bush fire left in her wake, enraptured by her. Even though as an archangel, his hatred of the pagan gods – _imposters _of his father, the only true God – had been hammered into him since he had begun to exist, Kali had been charismatic. And something about her made had him long for her approval. Maybe it had been her large dark eyes, maybe her coy smirks or her aloof demeanor. Truthfully, he didn't know what it had been but he had always felt like he had been more interested in keeping the relationship afloat than she was. But once Kali had something, she didn't quite appreciate it until it was far out of her reach. Gabriel couldn't quite blame her for the attitude – she was one of the more powerful pagan gods so it must have come naturally. Being in her presence was like standing near a fire on a cold winter's night – warm and soothing if you kept at a safe distance.

It had been exceptionally hard to remain quiet during the conversation and shame flickered in the back of his mind – eavesdropping probably wouldn't go over with Ashleigh. Especially since she clearly valued her privacy. As soon as Kali had walked through the door of the room, he had nearly dropped his head down on the table and groaned with frustration. Of _course _it would be that Kali would walk on in just when he and Ashleigh were finally starting to be okay again.

Ashleigh's cluelessness when it came to Kali's temper had made him snort silently – especially when she'd told Kali to pick up a copy of _Cosmo _for relationship advice. From his peripheral vision, he'd seen Kali outwardly unaffected but inwardly seething with irritation. He had originally wanted to intervene but decided that he should let her handle the goddess herself. Kali wouldn't dare touch her if Ashleigh was protected by him… right? But Kali didn't really have any boundaries when it came to that sort of stuff.

Gabriel had been spending a lot of time with Ashleigh, he would concede. But not even he knew why they were drawn together. There was something odd about Ashleigh, something that differentiated her from the other humans and he couldn't quite understand what it was. He just felt… like he needed to be near her. Protective, you could say. But glancing over at her sleeping form, fondness filled him and he pushed her blonde hair off her face. Guilt filled him all of a sudden at her peaceful, almost childish expression. He could tell that she trusted him and twice he had let her down. Truthfully, Gabriel was happy that the earlier fight had been resolved because being away from her had made him uneasy. While he was away from her, her guilt had played over and over again in his head – whatever she was feeling had spiked through his thoughts. It had taken him a little while to understand what was happening but he had understood after he had left Kali.

And now came the part that he really didn't want to think about. Removing her memories. It was a cowardly, deceitful thing to do but in his mind? Absolutely necessary. As soon as she had been cornered by the demon, he had felt it from halfway across the globe, this frantic pulse of fear and a call of _help me _that had rattled his thoughts and all he could think was that he needed to get to her – _now_. He had been with Kali when he disappeared and her affronted, offended expression when he flickered out of existence had done nothing to make him want to stay.

Inexplicably, when he had landed, his angelic form shone through his vessel and he had called out to Ashleigh in his true voice. She had been propped up against the wall like a rag doll, broken and bloodied. Rage had filled him again at the sight and now that there was no reason to hide his true form, Gabriel let his wings extend to their full span and light, pure and blinding filled the room. The demon had been smote in seconds but the feeling of stretching his wings had surpassed all others, so he reveled in the feeling of soaring again.

But then he felt someone's awestruck gaze on the feathery extensions and fear had shot through him. No. _No_. Nobody could know about his wings, it was too dangerous. Dread spiked through him as he panicked – what if Ashleigh found out who he was? And then Kali? Would he have to go back to Heaven? It wasn't home, not anymore. A sick feeling settled in the back of his stomach and he swallowed shakily. No, he _wasn't_ ever going back to Heaven, not after Lucifer. Not able to think rationally, he managed an apology to her, _hating _having to take her memories and invade her mind again and pressed his fingers to her forehead. Her body slumped forwards into him and Gabriel caught her, scooping up her limp body and telling how sorry he was over and over again.

Feeling horribly guilty but knowing there was no way he could give Ashleigh her memories back and expect her to trust him again, he stood up and got off the couch, needing a change of scenery but also not wanting to stray too far. The colors of the TV flashed in the background and the dull noise buzzed in the back of the room. With one last glance at her sleeping form, he made his way quietly out of her living room and into her room. Ashleigh had mentioned something about art when they were in Venice and had intrigued him. It was relaxing to her and he thought that maybe if he displayed interest in it, then she'd open up more to him again.

He was still confused by the attachment he had to her - she could see his wings, for crying out loud. He felt panicked confusion flash through his thoughts and he sighed out loud. Who was she to do this to him? What did this mean for him? Gabriel was an _angel _and from what little he remembered of Heaven, after cutting himself off from the Host for so long, that relationships that were more than strictly professional between humans and angels were considered a taboo and already he felt a sort of camaraderie with her, a fierce protectiveness and a deep understanding that confounded him beyond belief.

Gabriel remembered seeing a sketchbook lying on her desk haphazardly. His brows pushed together in confusion and he cocked his head. On the wooden surface he could see pens and pencils, erasers and rulers but no black sketchbook. Had she put it away somewhere? It had been on the desk where he'd idly flipped through the first few pages, covered in pencil markings. Gabriel hadn't been able to deny that she had talent – especially when it came to people. He stepped back and scanned his gaze down the shelf. There it was. The black corner of a book poked out of the bottom drawer and he stooped down, easing the drawer open and retrieving the book. Keeping a mindful eye on the door, he sat down in the chair and propped the book open, flipping to where he last was.

As he turned each page carefully, he saw pictures of flowers, of children and of castles, all carefully sketched with lead pencil. Ashleigh was an artist, he smiled fondly. But the fond smile soon dropped when he flipped the next page over, curious to figure out why he could feel such harsh, indented bumps on the page – what had she been drawing that had inspired so much rage? Gabriel nearly dropped the book in response. Large black eyes stared back at him and she had written around it… an _exorcism? _

How did she know this? Latin was a dead language and Gabriel knew that Ashleigh wasn't a hunter. Frantically searching for answers, he flipped to the next page and swallowed hard. _Paradise will be reclaimed, _the page proclaimed in large, spiky handwriting. A drawing of a pair of wide eyes glistening with tears took up most of the bottom half of the page, a drawing of a hand with a… necklace dangling from the fingers. There was an angel banishing sigil drawn on the top right corner and he rolled his lip between his teeth in response. The centre piece was a figure attached to chains and standing over him, a dark faceless man flashed a white smile and a silver knife dripping with blood glinted.

Sickened and worried for her, Gabriel shut the book and pushed it as far away from him as possible. What was happening? How did she know all of this? The exorcisms, the sigils… what was she? _Who_ was she? He shoved the book back in the drawer and blinked. His head panged sharply and the reminder that _he should know this_ flashed in his mind. How?

Was she related to his past in Heaven, was she a descendant of a former vessel of his? His present as a Norse god, maybe she was some kind of goddess herself? Suddenly, a loud terrified scream ripped from someone's throat, pulling him from his thoughts and he jumped – _Ashleigh_. Nearly knocking the chair over to get to the lounge, Gabriel darted to the armchair she was slumped in.

She was staring into space, her breathing shallow and panicky and she was crying silently. He sat beside her quietly, not saying anything, not touching her, except for the occasional knocking of their knees. Ashleigh furiously wiped her eyes and looked up at him, eyes wild and frantic. Her hands shook and she shoved them in her pockets, fishing around for something. "Sketchbook, _now_." she managed frantically, flying off the handle completely. and jolting against him. She shot up quickly and scanned the room with jerky movements, her blonde hair flying out in a pale cloud behind her.

Gabriel blinked up at her, confused and worried at why she was so terrified. "Ash-"

"No, _no! _I-I need it –" she broke off all of a sudden, eyes red with tears, her voice cracking and hoarse and he could see angry red marks on her palms where her nails had dug into her skin. Without warning, the girl stormed past him in a half-jog, her footsteps echoing loudly in the silent apartment. He followed her footsteps to her room, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Gabriel didn't know how he was supposed to make her feel better but he knew bringing up the disturbing images in her sketchbook wouldn't do much. Feeling apprehensive, he lingered by the door as she bent down to the cupboard beside her desk and literally threw everything out of the bottom drawer in her crazed search for the book.

"_Shit,_" she muttered, tossing aside a red pencil case. "Shit shit – did you touch it!?" Suddenly Ashleigh whipped around with a panicked edge to her expression. She jabbed an accusing finger at him and stood up slowly. "Did you touch it?" This time the question was repeated with a quiet sort of barely restrained calm. But then she crumpled again, sinking to the floor and holding onto her head and crying out. "_Crap _– it hurts, no no _no_."

"Ashleigh?" Gabriel offered a hand out to her. Fear shot through him at her terrified expression and alarm threaded through her tone when she mentioned the sketchbook.

Ashleigh pulled herself up on shaky legs, her blonde hair glinting in the faint light coming from the lamp and her eyes were wide and dark with terror. Spinning around on her bare feet to search her desk with frantic eyes, she let out a little noise of relief upon finding the book and pushed everything else off the desk. It all crashed down on the floor beside her. Her hands fumbled with the cap of a black pen and she quickly put the ballpoint to paper, drawing with long hard strokes and nearly ripping the pages with her haste.

As he neared her warily, hand still held out to her in a gesture of peace, he could see that her eyes were squeezed closed and she was clenching her teeth tightly, unable to see what she was drawing. Her hand seemed to be moving of its own accord and a little pained sound escaped her mouth, her left hand pressing against her temple. Not sure that he even wanted to see what she was drawing, Gabriel silently watched as her hand moved in jerky, sharp motions. He saw the beginnings of what looked like a pair of eyes. A knife engraved with symbols on it. A crown made of thorns and coated in blood.

After she'd finished and her hand went slack, Ashleigh opened her eyes carefully. Gabriel watched her swallow without saying a word. Lifting the book up, she gave a little chuckle, devoid of any humor. "_Fuck_," she sobbed and dropped the book back on the desk, where it clattered loudly and flipped to a different page of equally disturbing images. Leaning forwards on her desk, propped up by her arms, her messy blonde hair acted as a curtain that shielded her expression from him and he gingerly placed a hand on her back, rubbing in light circles. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, her head hanging down and in the dim light, he could see small tears wet the desk and he realized that he didn't _like _her being sad.

It made him feel crappy too – and abruptly he wondered if it was because of this weird bond they shared. More important, however was what she was crying about. His hand still on her back, he led her out of her bedroom and sat her down on the couch, her sketchbook clenched tightly in his hand. Sitting across from her, Gabriel stowed all of his emotions and he asked softly, not accusingly, "Are you drawing what you're dreaming?" At her unwilling nod, he pressed further, "When were you gonna tell me?"

"… I wasn't." she said and her eyes were rimmed with red and her tone guarded, her face slowly becoming stony and closed off. "It's not exactly something I'm gonna bring up in casual conversations."

"_Ash_." Gabriel felt awful and he reached out to touch her, let her know that it was going to be okay. The angel tried to sit closer and put his arm around her shoulders but she unexpectedly shoved him away. Her expression becoming hostile, the girl jerked away from him and stood up on wobbly legs, eyes glittering.

Angry tears glimmering in her eyes, she snapped, "You know what? Don't _look_ at me like that."

Confused beyond belief, he blinked. "Like what?"

"Like _that_!" she gestured at him with an accusing finger. "Like you're fucking sorry for me – well, you know what, Loki? I'm _fine_. I don't need you looking at me like I'm _crazy _or something – just _don't, _okay?" she exploded furiously, her whole body shaking with the emotions she was bottling up. Her livid eyes glimmered in the dim lighting in the lounge room. He couldn't find it in him to feel upset or angry by what she said, all he could feel was sorrow on her behalf and helplessness on his own. What was he supposed to do about this? Gabriel looked up at her imploringly.

"Come on," he said after a moment of thought. "You want a coffee? You're shivering." Avoiding her outburst and hiding the worry he felt for her seemed like the right way to go about the situation. Gabriel remembered reading somewhere that it was sometimes nobler to ignore someone's tears and pretend that everything was normal as not to embarrass them.

Her eyes registered faint surprise at his reaction to her anger. Trembling fingers tucked her hair behind her ears as she nodded reluctantly. "T-that sounds nice."

"What do you want? Milk, sugar…?" he pressed further. Hiding the anxiety he was feeling on her behalf, Gabriel raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"One sugar and some milk." she answered, oddly quiet and stoic now. Following her gaze down to her palms where she was gently pulling at the red nail marks, Gabriel swallowed hard. "Thanks," Ashleigh managed, still looking at her hands. "For everything." When she lifted her head up slowly to meet his gaze, he could see genuine gratitude in her shining eyes. Rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms and pushing the strap of her tank top back up over her shoulders, Ashleigh fumbled for her jacket.

"I'll be back in a minute. Just… try to stay awake." he offered comfortingly as he ruffled her hair.

;;;

Frankly, Ashleigh couldn't have thought of anything worse that could have happened to her. Hell, she preferred being pushed into a canal over this. Screwing her eyes closed, she wished she could just sink into the floor already and never come out. This was probably the _last _thing she expected to happen. She'd tried so _damn _hard not to fall asleep, but honestly, she wasn't even sure why she hadn't wanted Loki to know about her nightmares.

It just wasn't something she'd advertise to people and then watching him walk through her kitchen door, she felt completely pathetic. _Great._ Now he thought she was psychotic or delusional. Why did she even care? It wasn't like he was her best friend that she'd known forever or something like that. But for some reason she cared what he thought of her and the want to maintain a good image was horrible. Curling into a small ball, huddled under her jacket, she buried her face in the couch pillows and tried desperately to think of something, _anything _else than what she'd been dreaming of.

All she had heard throughout her dream was _paradise shall be reclaimed. _Repeated over and over again in deep, resonant tones, the phrase seemed to be seared into her mind – making it all she could _think _about. She remembered a bloody crown of thorns and thick rich blood - darker than what she would have expected human blood to look like - dripping from someone's lips and staining their teeth crimson red. She saw a knife, glinting and sharp and shivered, knowing that this knife was special.

What did this even mean? Groaning aloud, she thrust her hands into her hair and stared unseeingly at her knees. How was she going to figure this out? That train of thought was interrupted by Loki returning with a steaming mug in each hand and he took a long sip from one and nodded, "Yeah. That one's definitely mine," he said, gesturing to the mug he'd just drunk from thoughtfully. Handing her the other one, he reclaimed his seat next to her.

She had to stifle a snort at the absurdity of the situation: a Norse god was making her coffee to help her recover from traumatizing and sadistic dreams. Oh. And there was also the fact that she was being 'watched' by a Hindu goddess (who had also asked for relationship advice). Honestly, she wasn't sure what to think about that. There was nothing for Kali to be jealous _of_. Ashleigh was a human, there was no way she could compete, not that she really even understood what she was competing for anyways.

His eyebrows raised speculatively. "What are you laughing about?" Loki looked a little relieved at her slight change in mood.

Gesturing vaguely at nothing in particular, she sighed heavily. How did she explain? "Just… _this_ whole thing," Ashleigh replied and dropped her hands back down to her lap.

His eyebrows raised even further if that was even possible. "What whole thing?"

"A _Norse god _made me coffee. A _Norse god _took me out for ice cream. A _Norse god_, who I barely know, is being nice to me. No offence," she hastened to add, "but considering that I almost got eaten by a bunch of gods and goddesses not long ago, I don't think it's… normal that you've adopted the whole _Nemo_ philosophy."

He looked blank. Confused. "_Nemo_ philosophy? What do you mean?"

"_Fish are friends. Not food_." she quoted solemnly. Amending the statement, she tacked on after a moment of thought, "Well, I guess that should be 'humans are friends. Not food.' But it's the same idea."

"Huh." He looked understanding and tapped his chin thoughtfully. The crease between his brows deepened slightly. "I like humans. I've said it before, I'll say it again. I respect them for what they've done, what they've built out of what they were given." His voice was quiet and gravelly and Loki regarded her seriously.

"What? Haven't we kind of wrecked the planet?" She laughed, short and sharp. Ashleigh would have thought that most gods would feel nothing but contempt towards humans considering that they had destroyed what those gods had created for them in the first place. Not that she didn't appreciate most things about the 21st century, but there were a lot of issues that her kind had created for themselves.

"Nah. Not totally. Some things humans have done with their freedom are… horrible. But others… it's impressive." Glancing at her with clouded golden eyes, Loki held her gaze with his own. Stifling a groan, she realized what he was going to ask. "So… you draw what you dream, right?" At her nod, he hesitated before continuing, seemingly becoming a little tentative and cautious. Her weak, twisted smile fell. "How long have these dreams been going on?"

Uncomfortable and ashamed of herself for some weird reason, she turned away to stare blankly at the wall in front of her. Monotonously, she answered, "I dunno." She laughed softly at herself, a derisive sound. "Couple months, maybe? I lost track." Ashleigh shrugged sheepishly, rubbing her thumb across the marks on her palm.

There was a beat of tense silence before he pried further, thoughtfully. "W-what are they about?" Loki's tone made it seem like he didn't want to know and he sounded tired, exhausted even. Confused, maybe. Lost, most certainly.

"Blood. Black eyes. Screaming." Ashleigh said flatly, forcing herself to go back into her mind to remember the events of her nightmares. Clearing her throat and wincing at the resulting soreness, she continued. "Something about paradise, or whatever. There's always green eyes though. It's insane." She laughed again, louder this time and the sound was rich with self-deprecation. "Isn't this just _pathetic_." Wiping angrily at her wet eyes, Ashleigh took a long drink from her hot cup – not caring that it was still steaming, hey, she'd faced hotter in her nightmares – mostly to avoid looking at the Norse god staring at her with a slightly taken aback expression.

"Don't say that." Loki said after a while. The faint black outline of shadowy feathers flickered behind him agitatedly. He looked like he wasn't sure what to say – and she couldn't blame him. What were you supposed to do with a fucking delusional, slightly hysterical girl who was trying to recover from increasingly vivid nightmares? She certainly didn't know. "You're not pathetic. You're… dealing."

She scoffed disbelievingly. "Right. Because screaming myself hoarse every morning is 'dealing'. Sure." Ashleigh soon regretted her harsh tone, especially when she chanced a glance at his expression and then dug the heels of her palms into the sockets of her eyes to avoid looking at him.

He didn't reply to that, only sat next to her with a tentative hand on her still shaking shoulders. "You're gonna be okay, alright? You understand, kiddo?"

"How?" she asked and her voice cracked a little because she _desperately _wanted to believe that she was going to be okay but the realistic side of her was rolling it's eyes.. Ashleigh was conscious that she was looking up at him the way she'd look up at her mother when Ashleigh had a broken arm or something, begging her silently to help and make her feel safe. "How is this ever going to be okay?" The question was asked not in the hostile way but in the urgent, despairing way. She couldn't live like this. Maybe she should just give up and lock herself up in a mental hospital.

"I-I don't know," he admitted honestly. "But we'll figure something out, right?" When she didn't respond, staring at the wall in front of her, he tapped her shoulder and repeated, "_Right_?"

"Yeah. I guess." she responded flatly. Her shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug as she turned away from him. The hopefulness that had filled her when Loki had smiled widely at her at Sally's ice cream place was now long gone. Briefly, she wondered what was going to happen now for them. Did he think she was some kind of freak? A lump rose in her throat and she swallowed hard, reaching for her sketchbook and drumming her fingers on the cover. He probably did.

Honestly, she didn't blame him for thinking she was a freak - hell, _she _thought she was a freak and some small part of her mind begged desperately for it to be _over _already. When she fell asleep, she burned and screamed out for help that would never come. When she was awake, she'd wander around in a half-catatonic state, swallowed by the memories of what she'd dreamed the night before. And the _worst _parts were the random visions that pounded through her head during the middle of the day. She felt lost, confused and so ashamed that Loki had to make her feel better, comfort her after a nightmare. Dimly, she wondered why he even cared. He was a Norse god, after all. Didn't he have better things to do?

As if hearing her thoughts, which she hoped to Hell that he wasn't, he wrapped his arm around her tighter and Loki assured, "It's gonna be fine. You'll see." But his voice was shaky and his expression clouded.

She didn't respond.

* * *

**Author's Note: Shorter chapter this time guys :( I really wanted to add another scene but decided that this was better as a standalone chapter :) What's Ashleigh dreaming about? Hmn... Anyways, I'm going to have to start updating slower now because of school :/ You can expect an update every week, Tuesday/Wednesday depending on whereabouts you live. If I haven't updated in ages, send me a PM and tell me to get off my butt and write more :) I really don't want to lose motivation for this story because I'm really excited about what is yet to come :)**

**There were some slightly bigger hints this chapter... ooh! I'm really excited to see what you all think she is! **

**What would you prefer: shorter chapters (5k - 6k words) and quicker updates or longer (7k-9k) and slightly slower updates? **

**Leave me a review and tell me what you think is going to happen/what you want to see! **


	8. Chapter 8

**_Where the Lines Overlap_**

**;;;**

**Chapter 8: What Now?**

* * *

Gabriel was sitting on Ashleigh's bed and her head was resting on his shoulder, her lips parted as she breathed in and out. Her hair was tickling the side of his cheek and smelled like her shampoo. Her smaller form was curled up to his, mostly because he was warm and her apartment was freezing and her hands were gripping his jacket. The spell he'd put on her a few minutes ago seemed to be having an effect, especially considering her peaceful expression and her soft breathy sighs, chest moving up and down slowly. It was a dreaming spell that he'd learnt from an old Algerian witch in 886, it hadn't required much effort. A couple ingredients that he'd been able to steal from a new age shop in Nebraska and a short incantation later, the girl had been out like a light. He hadn't really made much effort to study Phoenician so he could only glean a few words from the incantation, those words being 'dreamless', 'banish' and 'terrors' but Gabriel had seen it work on other people.

Sliding out from underneath her carefully, he let her body flop back down onto the mound of jumbled up pillows. Hopefully the dreaming spell had completely knocked her out. The witch had told him that it'd take a couple hours for the results to be seen and he peered down at her face, eyes squinted until he decided that she should be okay. It wasn't like he had time to waste – he had someone he needed to see. With a click of his fingers, Gabriel felt his body slowly dissolve into nothingness, the atoms that made up his physical form shooting at a million miles per hour across time and space.

When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in the middle of a room that felt all too familiar but totally foreign all at once. This century, Asgard had taken its form in the guise of a castle. To that, Gabriel snickered. His 'father', Odin always did have a thing for exaggerated grandeur. When he looked down, his reflection shone in the spotless white marble. In comparison, his vessel looked slightly scruffy and a little worse for wear. It only reminded him of just how starkly different he was from the rest of the pagan gods – he was an archangel in disguise, for crying out loud. His shoes clicking quietly on the stone, he walked through the hall, occasionally pausing to look at the paintings on the wall.

He hadn't been to this hall for a long time and he probably wasn't even wanted here, not after what he'd done on the night of Baldur's crowning. Snickering to himself as he tiptoed through the hall lightly, he slunk around the corner with wide and alert eyes. Gabriel had no doubt that if he showed his face to any of the guards, they'd kick him out. He smirked. They could try.

He wasn't here to antagonise the guards though – there was someone he'd come to see. Although she wasn't his actual mother, she had certainly played an important role in his life as Loki, the pagan god. Frigga was her name and she was beautiful in an ageless way, long golden hair and expressive brown eyes with a fearless attitude to boot. If anyone knew what was going on with Ashleigh and why the hell he was so attached to her, it was probably his 'mother'.

He had always loved humans. But this instinctual protectiveness and camaraderie was just a little _too _weird and he wanted to understand the truth behind it. Going to Heaven for answers wasn't an option. He didn't trust that any angel he summoned for answers wouldn't turn him in on sight and out his secret to the others he'd fooled in his time. Gabriel just needed a few minutes with Frigga to ask about the forewarning nature of Ashleigh's dreams and the odd bond they shared.

So lost in thought, he didn't notice when he almost walked into a small young woman, dark hair paired with dark eyes and delicate features sparking recognition in him. She was dressed in a flowing silvery dress and her black hair floated around her shoulders in a dark cloud. "N-Nanna?" Gabriel managed, totally taken aback by the sudden apparition of the goddess.

A facetious smile twitched her pink lips and her mildly eerie white-blue eyes turned darkly playful. "Lo-ki," she split his name into two syllables, her tone low and sing-song. A mischievous, hopeful little expression crept across her face.

His stomach lurched and he froze, _shit_. Yes, he remembered Nanna. Gabriel remembered all the slightly awkward occasions which he had run into her. Awkward, mostly because she used to be (and from the looks of it, still was) totally infatuated with him. Never quite able to turn the eager young goddess down, he had edged away from her and often avoided all extended periods of time with her. Trust that he'd run into her right now. He sighed loudly and prepared himself for the worst.

Gritting his teeth, he swallowed hard. _Dammit. _"Did you want something?" Gabriel asked, covering his impatience, trying to act nice for her sake and then feeling abruptly guilty.

"Aw, no. I just heard about your new little girlfriend through the grapevine. Kinda wanted to hear the truth about her…" Nanna hinted, her eyes glittering with something he couldn't quite identify. He felt like taking one of the ornate candlesticks and whacking himself repeatedly in the head with it – _seriously?! _Was he going to have another jealous goddess on his tale? Kali was easier to deal with in some respects, considering she remained largely professional and distanced in most matters. She knew when it was… too much.

Nanna, however, didn't. The last time he'd seen her, she'd been acting like the equivalent of a middle-school girl with her first crush. At his lack of response, Nanna pressed, "C'mon, Loki. I haven't seen you in forever since you ditched. I missed you." Her gaze was raking up and down his face and she cocked her hip out, resting all her weight on one leg.

Suddenly, he realised something. Maybe... maybe Nanna could be of use to him. After all, she was part of the Asynjur and was practicing her magical skills. Perhaps if he charmed her enough into wanting to come with him, he could get an expert's advice on the problem without having to involve his mother, and by extension, Odin. He _really _didn't like Odin, his 'father.' As far as Gabriel was concerned, he was just another deadbeat dad full of excuses and issues. Steeling himself, he coated his words in sugar and began, "Yeah, yeah, I missed you too, Nanna," he never took his eyes off her face. She obviously enjoyed the attention and he felt bad for toying her like this but he didn't really have many options. "About my new girlfriend… I don't have one."

Nanna's blue gaze lit up hopefully and she almost purred, "Is that so?"

"Uh, yeah, she's just a friend of mine and I was wondering if you could, uh, give me a hand? She's having a couple of _problems_ and considering that _you're _the best out of all the Asynjur–" yeah, he really was laying it on pretty thick but the younger goddess was lapping it up "– you'd be the one to ask."

Nanna smiled prettily, her white teeth sharp and glittering in the light. She looked positively radiant at the opportunity and she snaked her hand down his arm to intertwine their fingers. She squeezed his hand tight, beaming up at him. "Well, come on. I don't know where she is. You gotta come with me."

Gabriel swallowed hard, forcing a smile back at the goddess and feeling guilty as he did so, snapping his fingers and flickering out of the castle once more. Closing his eyes, he felt Nanna's hand clench around his tightly as they split apart and shot through the fabric of the universe at the speed of light for the second time that day.

;;;

They reappeared in Ashleigh's bedroom, a whoosh of wind signalling their arrival and Gabriel dropped Nanna's hand as soon as he could, coughing abruptly. On her bed, looking like a child, Ashleigh was curled up in the middle of the duvet, her chapped and bitten lips parted slightly and he could see her chest rise and fall with each shaky breath she took.

Her limp blonde hair was splayed all over the bed and she was pale and sickly looking, the dreams were getting worse this time. Dark shades circled her eyes and a yellow undertone replaced her normally clear skin. Asleep, she looked more at peace than she had in days. Fondness filled him and he stepped forwards, reaching out a hand and pushing her hair off of her face, albeit a little clumsily. Nanna noticed the gesture and cleared her throat loudly.

"I thought she was just your friend." It was a statement, not really a question. Gabriel almost heard the unspoken query: _since when were you interested in humans? _The goddess coughed pointedly, staring hard at her, her darkening eyes zeroing in on the contact. Gabriel rolled his eyes at her and removed his hand from the side of the sleeping girl's face, slipping it into his pocket.

"Can you just find out what's happening with her?" He asked, maybe a little too impatiently because Nanna shot him a look that nearly put Kali's bitch face to shame. Nanna saw that he was hiding a part of their relationship – the part where Ashleigh could, oh, yeah, _see his wings _– and he saw that she saw. He had to be careful around her now. She regarded him in a wary, shrewd way for a couple more seconds then she sighed loudly, rolling her eyes again. Then Nanna stepped around him, letting her shoulder knock into his forcefully, and either not caring enough to interrogate him further or just too tired to take his shit.

"I'll see what I can do," she grumbled, voice low and he could hear the second eye roll in her tone. Her now angry demeanour was a stark change from her previously bubbly and happy persona back at the castle and he had to wonder what happened to upset her. Watching the dark goddess with wary eyes, he joined her at Ashleigh's bedside, close enough to ensure that she didn't try anything.

Nanna inhaled deeply, the sound joining the disjointed rhythm of Ashleigh's breathing and her icy blue eyes fluttered closed, her pink lips parting a little and her pale hand crept across Ashleigh's arm, finally coming to rest on her forehead. Gabriel watched, both intrigued and frightened by what she was doing. His own hands fluttered uselessly nearby – he wanted to _do _something. What could a pagan god, who wasn't nearly as powerful as an archangel, glean from Ashleigh's mind that he couldn't? He had to look down at that, working his jaw irately and internally berating himself for how helpless he was.

Nanna's hand clenched a little and he shot up at the gesture. A crease formed between her dark eyebrows and her eyes squeezed closed. At the ready, Gabriel hovered beside her – what was happening? Nanna let out a little muffled scream and he placed a hand on her back.

"Nanna, it's okay, sshh, you can let go now," he told her, worry wrecking his tone especially when he looked at Ashleigh. She was shaking violently, her weak hands trembling and quivering, her entire body convulsing under Nanna's touch. Whatever Nanna was doing surely wasn't agreeing with her and Gabriel moved to knock Nanna's hand away – this was enough, it was obviously hurting the two of them and he couldn't let them die.

But, to his abrupt horror, Nanna's hand remained glued in place and she murmured, as if in a blank trance, "_Nearly there." _

Gabriel felt like screaming, his own hands were trying to pry Nanna's off of Ashleigh but they weren't _moving _– he hadn't ever really felt this helpless. Trying to help, he'd screwed something up. To be fair, he didn't know what was happening inside their heads but considering that they both looked under increasing pressure and strain, he could only imagine that it wasn't good. Nanna was murmuring something in Old Norse under her breath and he could see her veins flickering silvery under her skin, shining bright through her pale flesh. Her fingers twitched on Ashleigh's forehead and he could see the silver spreading across her sallow face.

With a muffled groan, Ashleigh's back arched up, as if she was being dragged by her heart up to the ceiling. Nanna's hair was disregarding the laws of gravity completely, floating out behind her in a haze of black and he could see silvery swirls winding up her arms – the marks of the Asynjur. _Shit shit _– Gabriel was despairing, he wanted to pull them off of each other but he could only remain transfixed as Nanna began murmuring again.

"I'm nearly there, so clo –" suddenly she was cut off, so abrupt that Gabriel started. Nanna's hand slipped off of Ashleigh's forehead and two things happened almost instantaneously: the goddess was pushed back by some unseen force, slumped down onto her knees and fell forwards against the side of Ashleigh's bed, her eyes still closed and she was breathing heavily, _exhausted. _

Ashleigh, however, dropped back down onto her bed from where she had been hovering about a foot in the air and she sprawled out on her bed again, her chest rising and falling again in a stuttered rhythm and the last of the silvery marks faded from her arms.

Gabriel moved to help the groaning goddess to her feet, resisting the urge to run to Ashleigh because she wasn't in any immediate danger of dying. His hand grasped Nanna's arm gently and he heaved her to a standing position. She was leaning heavily on him for support, swaying unsteadily because of how much she had drained herself. Her eyes were slipping closed again and thinking she was going to collapse, Gabriel set her down on the chair beside the bed, kneeling to her level and looking at her imploringly.

He wasn't sure he even really wanted to know now, but he had to. He had to help Ashleigh – this weird protective urge flaring up inside him again, fast and so strong that it nearly knocked him off his feet. "N-Nanna, what did you see?"

She opened her eyes a crack. "Oh my… I-I don't know where to _begin_." Her voice cracked halfway through, she was so exhausted by the effort of straining her magic so much and Nanna bit down on her lip harshly, rolling the lower one between her teeth so hard that it'd probably start bleeding. "From what little I could see of it, it was a _mess_…" She shook her head, aghast.

Something akin to fear wrenched his stomach and he stood up on shaky legs. "Explain." His voice didn't waver. He saw something flash across her face and decided to press further, "Nanna…" he prompted.

The goddess looked up at him with horror and sheer anxiety swimming in her eyes but she cleared her throat and began to deliver the facts in a wobbly monotone. "Her mind is shielded by something, something powerful. I couldn't really see past it. I had to force myself through the cracks. Listening to her thoughts isn't too hard, but accessing the deeper parts of her mind was just… it was so _hard_, Loki. I saw some of what she saw – the dreams she's been having. _I _don't know how to stop it – I don't know how to fix it," she confessed brokenly. Her hands rubbed across her face and her shoulders caved forwards. "I'm not good with this, Loki. You should have asked someone else." Nanna's voice quaked and she stood up on shaky feet.

Gabriel just looked at the younger goddess for a long while, her eyes shining with tears and her legs quaking. He pulled her into a hug after a moment of thought, her pointy chin digging into his shoulder and she hugged him back, mumbling into his shoulder, "I'm sorry I couldn't help her more." She sounded sorrowful and slightly self-deprecating.

"No," he said after a little bit, his eyes flickering over to Ashleigh's immobile form. "It's okay. I shouldn't have asked this of you."

Nanna pulled back and wiped at her eyes, attempting a weak smile. "I can call you if I find anything. I still wanna help, Loki. I might send Aph if I find anything," she said, her lower lip wobbling and she sighed, laughing a little. "I'm gonna go get some rest now – I'm pretty tired," she joked half-heartedly.

He clapped her on the back, cracking a grin. "You do that, Nan." Her face brightened a little at the affectionate nickname and she smiled, genuinely this time. Just like that, the goddess flickered out of sight little by little until she was gone completely.

Gabriel sat beside Ashleigh on her bed again, pushing her hair off of her face, examining her peaceful expression with worry and fear for her etched in his expression. "What's going on with you?" Gabriel asked her in a low murmur, rhetorically, his tone filled with immeasurable concern and anxiety. Something in his chest twisted looking at her helpless, sickly expression and deep inside him, he wanted to do more for her, ensure that she was going to be okay.

He couldn't do much else but stay with her now. And that was what he was going to do, the apprehension he felt about the instant bond be damned.

;;;

Ashleigh didn't really know how long she'd been sitting in her apartment in an almost catatonic state until Loki reminded, "Vitamin D is always a good idea. You wanna... go outside?" His tone sounded hopeful and she knew how desperate he was to escape the confines of her apartment. She estimated that it'd been about a day or two since her last dream – the one that left more questions than actual answers. Her world had basically exploded into tiny little fragments and she was standing uselessly in the rubble, sobbing because she had no idea where to even start putting it back together. Yellow eyes, clouded and filmy still blinked at her teasingly, feeling distinctly evil and... _terrifying. _

Giving a non-committal shrug, she turned to face out of the window. Looking at the sun counted, right? A small part of her mind wanted to smack herself in the face for being stupid and mopey but honestly? Ashleigh wasn't ready to go out yet. Still dressed in her jeans and her white shirt, she sat cross-legged on her bed with her hands folded in her lap. Ashleigh felt lost in the cavernous recesses of her mind, playing the events of her nightmares over and over again. What did this all even mean? Her fingers toyed with the loose threads on her button down as she ground her teeth together.

Loki kept shooting her sidelong glances, which she resolutely ignored because she didn't think she could really look him in the eye without feeling needy and ungrateful. The hollow feeling of being completely drained was still eating away at her inside. The god cleared his throat loudly after a couple more glances. "How're you feeling?"

With dodgy, apprehensive eyes, she replied blandly, "I'm fine. Tired as hell, but fine." She felt his eyes on her, watching as she absentmindedly rubbed at her forehead. Her head hurt more than usual now but she couldn't find it in herself to worry about it. She couldn't really find it in herself to be worry about anything anymore. Was that bad? How numb and disinterested she'd become? It probably was, but she couldn't feel much now. It was an upside. At least the dreams weren't taking as much of a toll on her emotional state considering she didn't really have one, being locked inside herself for God knew how long did that to a girl.

Loki didn't look like he believed her at all and she couldn't blame him. She was a shit liar and they both knew it. Already feeling like she was burdening herself on him, Ashleigh really didn't want to go overloading him with her mountains of issues and crazy dreams. It was bad enough that he'd found out. What was going to happen now? She almost grinned self-deprecatingly at that. _What now _was kind of a common theme popping up in her life now. Her entire world had been wrecked by the discovery of gods and monsters and her dreams were getting worse and _worse._ There was nothing she wanted more than to be stronger about this

"Hey... I'm gonna go get some air, alright? Something just came up here on godly radio - you gonna be okay, kiddo?" A hand clapped on her shoulder and she blinked, jarred and confused for a second until she relaxed.

"Yeah, sure," she said distantly, closed-off. Somewhere deep inside her, a small voice screamed _no! Don't go - don't leave me!_ The dreams might come back – no. Ha. That was pathetic, how much she was relying on him at the moment. Guilt, and surprising amount of apologetic regret filled her and she had to look down. Loki was eliciting emotion from her when nothing else could. Feeling like she wanted to either cry from how pathetic and fucked up the whole situation was and biting on her lower lip, Ashleigh added on with an ironic twist to her mouth, "I promise I won't go anywhere." She chuckled derisively. It wasn't like she even wanted to go anywhere. Where could she go? She didn't want to go back to the diner, didn't think she was in shape to go anywhere at the moment. Finding great interest in the palms of her hands, Ashleigh avoided his studious gaze.

Loki pushed himself up off her bed, she felt the mattress spring back into place slightly as he straightened up and sanded his hands together abruptly. "Call me if you need anything." His weary, tired sigh made her ache with guilt. It had never been one of her intentions to drag him through this with her. There was a little shimmer and she watched as his form flickered away slowly until he was gone completely.

Feeling alone and distant, Ashleigh turned back to the window and stared at her reflection in the glass. She owed Loki an apology for all the shit she'd put him through - her breakdown, her distant state and her generally angst-ridden behaviour. This wasn't what he thought he was signing up for when he started hanging around her - which she was still confused about. But hey, if he'd stayed with her this long and had helped her through all of her many issues... maybe this wasn't a trick. She almost felt a little guilty for doubting him. She felt terrified, all by herself and like she'd completely lost control of everything. Maybe Ashleigh needed someone to help her through this - hell, maybe she needed professional help. Honestly, she had no idea how much longer she could hold out. It was like she was drowning, screaming for help, crushed by everything that was weighing on her in this part of her life.

And there she stayed, staring out at the window and into her reflection, deep in _dark _thoughts. Thoughts about a predatory yellow gaze, piercing green eyes and fire, burning up her skin and making her scream, scream for help that she knew would never come. Dangerous thoughts.

;;;

Loki popping back into her bedroom and bringing with him the scent of jasmine snapped her out of her dramatic moping. "Aph - this is Ashleigh. Ashleigh, meet the oh-so-fabulous goddess of loooveee," when she turned around to gaze questioningly at the trickster god, she snorted as he wiggled his eyebrows in a cringe-worthy way when he said the word 'love'.

Standing next to him was a tall, slender woman dressed in an elegant navy dress that scooped low across her cleavage but still managed to look classy and sophisticated. Her red hair was long and glossy, her grey eyes were alert and sharp, bright against her creamy skin. She was literally the most flawless looking thing Ashleigh had ever seen - the kind of girl that made everyone in the room take a hit on their self-esteem. Straightening her rumpled button down self-consciously, Ashleigh regarded the woman warily. Who was she? Loki had metioned the goddess of love, so maybe -

"Hi," the woman began and thrust her hand out. Her teeth were blindingly white against her velvety red lips. "I'm Aphrodite. But I guess you can call me 'Aph'. Aphrodite's kind of a mouthful," she grinned cheerily again and Ashleigh shook her hand, still in a slight state of shock. She was so... enthusiastic, she thought in bewilderment, tilting her head to the side slightly. "Nanna sent me," she directed, slightly more covertly towards Loki, who nodded in understanding. Ashleigh was left to feel confused – who the hell was Nanna? What was going on?

"A-Ashleigh," she shifted from her cross-legged position on the bed and stood up, smoothing her hands over her jeans in an effort not to look like a total mess and grasped Aphrodite's hand loosely. Feeling ridiculously self-conscious, she made an effort to clean herself up, pushing her hair behind her ears and yanking the creases out of her shirt. "I don't really mind what you call me." Ashleigh offered quietly. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Loki smirking to himself at her reaction to Aphrodite's bubbly and generally happy personality. Resisting the urge to poke her tongue out at him good-naturedly took a lot of maturity.

She watched as Aphrodite tilted her head to the side, tapping her fingers against her chin. Suddenly, she leaned out to smooth out the dark circles under Ashleigh's eyes and asked in bewilderment, "What are these? You look like you've slept with mascara on or something..." Ashleigh tried not to shy away as Aphrodite poked and prodded at her with cool fingers, stretching out her skin and appraising her with a judgemental glint in her eyes. "Oh, no, honey," she tutted. "You can't go to a party like this! What were you thinking?"

Ashleigh was still stuck on the first part of her sentence. Party? What party? Confused as hell, she looked over at Loki, mouthing _dude!? Party? What?_ He shrugged in response and unfolded his arms, stepping out from the corner. "I thought it'd be fun. You could get out of the house for a little, meet some of my less homicidal friends," he said and cracked a grin at her, and she felt her slightly accusing expression soften. "Maybe we could find someone to help with your-" he looked over at Aphrodite all of a sudden and abruptly stopped himself from revealing the truth about Ashleigh's dreams "- sketchbook problem," he covered, stammering a little.

Ashleigh licked her lips. "But... I thought that - no offense or anything, Aphrodite -" she began but was cut off abruptly by the red haired woman rolling her eyes, not in a hostile way though, and correcting abruptly:

"It's Aph," she cocked her hip out to the side and made a 'carry on' motion with her hand when Ashleigh failed to keep talking.

"Uh - I thought that most gods kind of wanted to eat humans," she blurted out uncertainly. Her arms folded across her chest defensively and she regarded Aphrodite - no, Aph, she reminded herself - with a wary gaze. What was she thinking? She didn't think she could go to another godly meeting, not after the fiasco that happened last time. Inwardly recalling how she'd nearly been eaten with a slightly bitter tinge to her thoughts, she felt the corners of her mouth shrug down.

"Not all of us. Only some," Aph amended. "Besides, you're under Loki's protection, right?" At the end of that last sentence, the goddess raised an eyebrow at the Norse god lounging beside her chest of drawers. He nodded once and she turned back to Ashleigh with an _I-told-you-so _expression twisting her pretty face.

"Hey – Earth to Ashie," Aph snapped her fingers impatiently in front of her face and she blinked a couple times, realizing that she'd just gone still and had been staring off into space like a moron. "Yeah, okay, so you should be fine, right?" Ashleigh smirked down at the ground. _Fine. Yeah, right. _

The goddess's bouncy and kind of demanding personality had her feeling totally confused and a little confronted. It had been a while since she'd seen anyone but Loki- pathetic? A little, yeah. But she literally couldn't function anymore. Every time she closed her eyes, she was burning alive and screaming – _but her mouth wouldn't open _and she was trapped, pinned down to this metal rack. Totally naked and covered in blood, she would try and cover herself up in vain, but she would soon realise that her hands were bound. And that's when the pain would start. "I-I _guess _so?" Ashleigh managed blankly. She felt like she was drowning in thoughts murkier than the darkening sky outside.

"Good – I'll need you to do the spell-thingy, Loki," Aph directed to the Norse god, making a 'shoo' motion with her left hand until he raised his own hands in a peace gesture, leaving the room.

It felt like he was taking something of her with him, she'd been with him so long. Looking up in the mirror, she could see that her smirk was still twisting her face mockingly. But it wasn't really a smirk, it was more like a dark grimace. There was an awkward pause as the goddess appraised Ashleigh with studious eyes, tracing every curve and edge of her face, the shape of her eyes, the length of her nose. It was she was being slowly stripped apart by Aph's raking, piercing gaze. And she didn't like it, it made her feel vulnerable and exposed. Like she had in her dreams.

"You look confused," she said after a while. She was picking at her red nails in an indifferent way.

"A little, yeah." Ashleigh reminded in a sarcastic tone. That was all she was going to say on the matter.

"So, Dionysus – a friend of both mine. And Loki, but whatever – he's holding this party and inviting all these gods. Loki thinks you two can find someone to help you there," Aphrodite shrugged, still picking at her nails. "He probably thinks I can get you to agree or something." At this point, the goddess fixed her with an unreadable gaze and she tilted her head to the side, almost curiously. "If I asked you to come, would you?"

Trying to remain unemotional and closed off, Ashleigh pulled a face. "Maybe. Depends."

Aphrodite's response was instant. "On what?" The goddess questioned, only allowing herself to look mildly interested.

At that, Ashleigh faltered. What was keeping her from going out? There was the part where she was terrified of most gods and goddesses – considering a whole group of them had tried to _fucking eat her_. _But Loki says you'll be under his protection – don't you trust him? _A little voice in the back of her mind encouraged and she had to look away for a little. Still, she didn't feel in the shape to do anything. She was dreaming about people being tortured and about being burned alive. It was like part of her was trapped inside her own mind and she couldn't get out, even though she was scratching and kicking away at the walls, it held firm and she was just so _scared _that she'd be… locked up in an asylum or called batshit insane by someone.

But there was Loki, and remembering the worry and concern for her (which she still hardly believed she deserved) in his eyes was enough to spur her into saying, "You know what? Let's do it." Before she could stop herself, before the more pessimistic side of herself tried to ruin the only opportunity of proving to Loki that she was getting better, she cracked a large, fake grin. "I think you're getting me ready for a party, hey?"

Aph's face split into a smile and she stood up, sanding her hands on her dress. Ashleigh felt her own grin fade into something more genuine, happy that she was making someone happy rather than imposing on them and trapping them inside a dark apartment with her.

"Oh, we have work to do," Aph allowed herself to push a lock of Ashleigh's hair behind her ear, looking gleeful.

Ashleigh wondered what she was getting herself into.

But looking at the smile on Aphrodite's face and feeling a warmth blossom inside her chest, a kind of happiness that she hadn't really had the emotional capacity to feel in the past couple of days, she decided that she really didn't care.

* * *

**Author's Note: First off, I owe you all a massive, _massive _apology for being such a lousy updater. Schoolwork has started (figuratively) smacking me in the face, one after the other and I've been super stressed recently, which made this chapter much harder to get out. So, I'm incredibly sorry about this. :/ ****Thanks to _Hannahthetimelord _and _harrylee94 _for their kind offers to help me out! You guys are absolutely amazing.**

**ALSO, OHMYGOD WLO HAS JUST REACHED THE 50K MARK! YES! That's incredible :3**

**In answer to a question from a reviewer about Ashleigh's FC, I'm still kind of stuck between two actresses: Scarlett Johansson or Katheryn Winnick. Which do you prefer? I'm trying to make a cover, so I wanna know who you guys think is the best choice! **

**Ooh! This chapter introduced a couple of new characters - I decided to take a little look at what Loki's Norse 'family' might have treated him like. Nanna is a Norse goddess herself and I wanted to incorporate some Norse mythology as well. We also have the lovely Aphrodite :) What's this party about? Who are they going to meet? Questions, questions. The song I listened to on repeat for this chapter was _What Now? _by Rihanna - I love me some Rihanna and feel like this song kind of encapsulates what Ashleigh's feeling right now.**

**Another thing I wanted to talk about and get some responses on, is if I should start a fanfiction tumblr account? That way, instead of me either trying to PM all of you guys that do have accounts (and even then, I can't get to the anons) or me posting another AN (I'm so sorry about that too, :/ I really hate them), you can just check the blog for updates on how the chapter is coming along or if it might be a bit later or earlier than anticipated. What do you think? **

**I also wanted to ask if you all had some OC fics to recommend to me? I _love _Supernatural OC fics and am wondering what you all think are ones that I should read!  
**

**TL;DR: I'm sorry about the lateness, who do you think is Ashleigh's FC, the fanfiction tumblr thing and OC fics!**

**Thanks for reading :) **


	9. Chapter 9

_**Where the Lines Overlap **_

**;;;**

**Chapter 9: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody**

* * *

Two months ago, if she had been told that she would be shopping in some fancy store with the goddess Aphrodite, Ashleigh would have laughed long and loud before returning to her place at the coffee machine and passing a vanilla latte to a stressed-out mother who was struggling to keep her three kids in tow. But oh how times had changed. The thoughts were tinged with a slightly wistful attitude, because now she was perched on the edge of a red leather couch in the Prada store on Fifth Avenue, feeling ridiculously out of place under the soft lighting and shiny marble floors. How much her life had changed since then was actually quite laughable, if she managed to forget about the nightmares and the blood.

Just thinking about it made her queasy. Slipping her hands underneath her jiggling legs, she rolled her lower lip between her teeth, caught between wanting to get up and run her fingers across the supple leather of the handbags and heeled, ass-kicking boots and wanting to stand up abruptly and duck out the glass double doors and find a craft store. Longing filled her as she thought of all the paintbrushes, pencils, papers… A woman near her, dressed in a black power suit, raked her gaze down Ashleigh's hunched posture before sniffing loudly and rolling her eyes.

Feeling seriously uncomfortable in her rumpled shirt and leggings (which she was pretty sure had a hole on the back), she looked across the store, desperately trying to catch sight of Aphrodite. Fuck, where _was _she? Her fingers drummed an unsteady rhythm against the leather of the couch as she tried breathing in and out in a steady rhythm, counting to ten slowly in her head and dropping her chin to her chest and looking down to avoid meeting the mildly curious gazes of the customers in the store.

Bad idea. _Seriously _bad idea. Looking at the deep red leather only reminded her of blood, _drip drip dripping_ down someone's arm, pooling on the floor. Staining a knife crimson. Painting someone's hands dark and glistening. The color of someone's mouth when they opened it to scream. Looking up because she was desperately searching for a reprieve from the flashing images in her mind, Ashleigh turned her face to the ceiling, feeling her chest beginning to constrict. Not here, not here of all places. Having a vision in the diner had been bad _enough_, but at least there had been somewhere she could run to, escape to. Here, she was trapped in a sea of people. Ashleigh had never felt more like a freak. A wave of jealousy knocked her off her feet, jealousy of the people walking past her – they didn't have to worry about having freaking nightmares all the time.

Her legs were trembling and she knew if she made to stand up, she'd pitch over into the display in front of her so she clutched the edge of the couch so tight the skin around her knuckles went stark white and tried to inhale and exhale. _Calm down, and you'll be fine. _She tried to calm herself, but her lungs weren't working right and it felt like she couldn't _breathe _– something was constricting around her chest like a tight rubber band. Pain flared through her hands and she faintly recognized that her nails were digging hard enough into her skin to draw blood. Tears pricked in her eyes and she breathed heavily, scared to death of another breakdown.

Yellow lights stared right back at her –

– and then she wasn't in the Prada store anymore.

She was falling, down, _down _into blackness and fear clenched its iron fingers around her heart as she inhaled and exhaled rapidly, still trying to hold on to the dizzying, torturous reality she was stuck in. But then she opened her eyes, only to immediately close them, and found she was lying on something that felt like a cold metal bench, and she slowly realized that she was completely naked, save for her underwear. Feeling especially vulnerable and scared, Ashleigh tried to cover herself up – but she _couldn't,_ she was pinned down to the table by chains that chafed her wrists and ankles and she tossed and turned, trying her hardest to loosen the chains. She was trapped. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears and she could feel the blood pounding through her veins.

Finally daring to open her eyes again, Ashleigh then immediately wished she hadn't. Standing above her, dressed in an impeccably sharp suit, was a tall man with pale, nearly white, grey eyes. His hands were sharply different from his perfectly clean suit – they were covered in congealed red blood and made disgusting squelching sounds as he rubbed them together. She felt sick to her stomach. A smile split his face in two, but it wasn't a friendly smile. Far from it. Don't scream, do _not_ scream, because what was the point? Who was going to hear her? She settled for clenching her fists tightly against the chains and looking directly above her, trying desperately to control her rapid breaths. This dream felt different – usually she was watching the events, a trapped and horrified bystander, but now it felt so much more real and personal.

The tall man leaned over until his body was completely blocking out the bright white lights. He was close, so close that she could smell him, and he smelt like smoke and fire. His pale hand reached out to caress the side of her face, almost admiringly and his thumbs stroked across her cheekbones. Struggling to contain her immediate revulsion and disgust at his unwanted touch, she swallowed back the bile in her mouth. It'd be useless screaming and thrashing. She'd only hurt herself more. The man let another grin pull at his barely-visible lips and his tongue flitted out across his lips, making her cringe, and then he blinked slowly.

She felt confused for approximately half a second, but then he opened his eyes. And they were a filmy, cloudy, abruptly familiar yellow that seemed to pierce through her – and not in a good way. At all. Her heart was throbbing fast, so fast that she thought it might burst out of her _chest _– fear brushed her back with cold fingers and tears pricked her eyes, helpless, vulnerable tears. She felt like she was going to be _sick, _just looking at the man's smug yellow eyes made her stomach wrench and she squirmed under his gaze.

"Now, now," he smirked. His tone was reprimanding and he shook a mock-stern finger at her. "Struggling just makes it all the more enjoyable." A shiver ran down her spine again at his words, and that cold and terrifying smile was back, the smile that made her want to run and bury her face in her pillow and never look back up ever again.

Still breathing heavily, Ashleigh spat with a trembling voice, "_Fuck you_." She didn't dare to look away from his slightly taken aback expression, tried to remain calm and cold instead and lifted her chin insolently. Grinding her teeth against the urge to scream, she remained silent once more.

"That's no way to talk to me, is it now?" he asked with faint amusement evident in his tone. Ashleigh watched warily as his hand snaked over to a silver tray full of something she couldn't see from her position pinned down on the table. Drawing a wickedly sharp looking knife from the tray, he idly trailed his finger down the sharper edge of the blade, making a mildly interested noise at the appearance of blood on the knife. "Huh. Interesting," he glanced over at her with cloudy yellow eyes, brighter streaks threading through the whites of his eyes and his irises totally covered by the yellow film.

Too scared out of her freaking _mind _to say anything more, Ashleigh blinked at him. He moved again to touch her and she tried to yank herself back from his approach – but the metal bars held her back down, _shit_ what was she gonna do? Dread and something similar to horror began to make her hyper aware of her surroundings. She was trapped, and she had no idea if she could escape. Feeling the panic rise up in her throat and burn the insides of her mouth, she made a muffled noise that reverberated in the empty, cavernous room and then –

"Ma'am? Are you… okay?" Somebody's voice suddenly sounded from right next to her and an unfamiliar hand grasped her shoulder, shaking her. Ashleigh reflexively jolted away from the contact, breathless and feeling like she was about to throw up and abruptly shook off the man's hand. Something in her chest clenched as she took in the familiar surroundings of the high class store disbelievingly, still trying to regain her breath. _It's okay. I'm okay – I'm fine. _Her eyes stung with helpless tears. _Jesus Christ, this is really fucking embarrassing_. The thoughts were tinged with bitterness and anger, but she looked up at the man who had put his hand on her shoulder and forced an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I just… blacked out for a second there," she laughed nervously, awkwardly not meeting his gaze and ignoring the way her heart was pounding in her chest. Seemingly satisfied with her answer, the man gave her one last concerned look before walking leisurely back to a glass rack of shoes. Her smile dropped as soon as he walked away and she focused on deep breathing. _In. And out. And in. And out. _She felt very small and weak, hunched over on a no doubt thousand dollar couch in a super expensive store and surrounded by people – all cool, composed and unruffled. Ashleigh just felt like a _mess_.

She was so lost inside her own head that she didn't notice Aphrodite's return until the aforementioned goddess cleared her throat sharply and began to talk. "So, good news – I found a couple pairs of shoes to go with the dress you chose," she offered. Ashleigh watched with vague interest as the redhead turned behind her and picked up two different pairs of shoes, displaying each one with a curious expression on her face. "Which one do you want?"

Still deep in thought, Ashleigh shrugged. It was probably rude of her, considering all the effort the goddess was going to and she honestly wanted to be more enthusiastic, but the dreams – the constant pressing fear of never knowing when she was going to have a vision – were draining her. "I… I don't know," she made a face. "Whichever ones you think would look best," Ashleigh said quietly, trying her hardest to block out the flashing yellow eyes in her mind.

Aphrodite stared at her for a long minute, grey eyes meeting green, and her expression was thoughtful. "Are you okay?" She asked finally, in a quiet and empathetic tone. There was a rustle of fabric as the goddess bent and took a seat next to her, still gazing at her with those pensive grey eyes. She was genuinely curious, Ashleigh realized, and the thought made her feel even worse. Her heart clenched at the expression on the goddess's face and she balled her hands into fists.

She did actually have a weak lie all lined up to go, but she found herself staring at the goddess with an open mouth. Tired in a way that transcended her physical state, she shook her head and looked down. "Ah… n-no. I'm really tired, stressed and my head hurts all the time," she confessed in a strained voice and then suddenly, after that, the words just kept flowing and flowing, like she had no control over what she said. "I haven't slept properly in weeks, I feel like a complete mess, like my life is totally ruined and I think I'm being a needy, ungrateful bitch." The words hung in the silence for a few minutes as the two processed what just happened. Licking her lips, Ashleigh realized how open and honest she'd just been to the goddess and automatically wanted to crawl up in a hole and never come back out. What was Aphrodite going to think of her now? Jesus, she had already pissed off _one _goddess, she didn't need to get on another's bad side. Maybe she just had a knack for that sort of stuff. Not really a useful knack, considering her current situation.

Interlacing her fingers and toying with the buttons on her shirt, she carefully didn't look at Aphrodite, who'd remained oddly and uncharacteristically silent for a few minutes, looking down at her hands quietly. She felt her own eyes burn with angry tears at the sudden release of information and dashed them away quickly. It was hard, trying to hold it together during this weird and tumultuous period of her life and honestly, she wasn't quite sure how much longer it'd hold out. There was also the nagging, ever present question of: _why? _Why her? What had she done?

Her voice a touch lower than it'd been previously, Aphrodite said with a carefully neutral expression, "Is this about your dreams?" She sounded as if she was expecting Ashleigh to blow up any second now. At her unwillingness to respond, Aphrodite pressed further, "Is this about… Loki?" The name made Ashleigh pause and roll her lip between her teeth, deep in thought.

Her jaw tightened and her voice softened a fraction. "Maybe." she divulged cryptically, not admitting anything or denying anything. The unspoken _that's all you're getting for now _was ringing loud and clear. Loki. The question had hit her hard and she had to wonder, how _did_ she feel about Loki? Confused, for one. Averting her eyes and remembering stolen pizza, beanbags and hotel dining rooms, starry Venice nights, ice cream sundaes, screaming matches and an arm wrapped around her shoulder as she sat shivering on the couch, she had to concede that she did like Loki. Probably more than she should. He had saved her from homicidal gods and goddesses, he'd betrayed his own kind and had done kind things for her – she did find herself missing him when he wasn't around. She'd spent so much time with him that it felt weird when he wasn't around, cracking silly jokes and leaving Hershey's wrappers all over her apartment.

But then there was Kali. The thought of the dark, sultry Hindu goddess made her suck the inside of her cheek into her mouth and she forced herself to look down. The implications of Kali's threats weren't lost on her, but she knew jealousy when she saw it. She still couldn't quite believe it – that Kali was jealous of _her_. Actually, it was probably more along the lines of her being pissed at Loki rather than Kali actually feeling threatened by her. She was a messed up, cynical human who was seven different kinds of crazy and Kali was a freaking _goddess_. Besides, she didn't think she was into Loki _that way_ – sure, he was pretty attractive, with his nearly-golden eyes and smirk that _maybe _made her insides melt a little, but she didn't know the guy well enough. Hell, she didn't even know his favorite color, what his favorite movie was.

Feeling like a middle-schooler debating over a guy, she slipped her hands under her thighs and clenched her teeth tightly, working her jaw sourly and trying to avoid frustrated tears._ Jesus fucking Christ._ For crying out loud, was she really doing this? Wasn't she more mature than this?

Apparently not.

Aphrodite didn't look at all convinced by her answer, not that Ashleigh could really blame her, but thankfully the goddess decided to drop the subject entirely. Her grey eyes held hints of playful mischief and it was almost like she was… planning something. Shivering, she cracked a small grin at the goddess in return. Hopefully that had broken the suddenly awkward atmosphere between them, but one could only dream. And dream she did. The thoughts didn't go without a little bit of cynicism and she snorted quietly to herself.

She cleared her throat loudly and straightened up. Aphrodite beamed in return at Ashleigh. "Well, did you make a decision on the shoes?" The goddess asked, trying to brush off the topic and redirect her attention. At her confused look, she held up the couple of pairs of heels she had chosen. Ashleigh had pretty much given the goddess free reign over her clothes, shoes and make up for the party – honestly, Aphrodite knew this a lot better than she did, and if she was going to go to a party, she was going to look _good_. She'd already picked out this incredible dress and her inner artist had been losing her mind the whole time – all the different colors and fabrics, just looking at the way the fabrics caught the light and hung off her frame had been _awesome_.

She'd settled on this freaking incredible red dress that made her look like a whole different person – and maybe that was what she needed, a whole new look for a new part of her life. It did sound like something she'd find on the cover of a magazine – _find a whole new look for your whole new life! – _but it'd probably help her feel better. The dress was skin tight and clung to her hips and chest, cutting off in the middle of her thighs, something the old Ashleigh would never have chosen. And she also had this killer red lipstick to pair it with, so all in all, she was pretty excited for this party.

After she had chosen the nude pumps in Aphrodite's left hand – because apparently they'd make her legs look longer and slimmer – Aph had paid with money that Ashleigh swore just appeared out of nowhere, flashing a dazzling smile at the man at the counter, who had looked stunned and confused that a woman as good looking as Aph was paying attention to him. Kinda cute.

Before Ashleigh had a chance to open her eyes, she was standing in her bedroom again, slightly woozy from the teleporting. All her stuff was still scattered all over the floor from when she'd had her little freak out two days ago and she'd been too busy drawing her visions, which had returned with a vengeance, in her notebook so she could begin to figure out what was happening to her. She pressed a hand to her forehead and growled in annoyance as soon as the beginning of a killer headache began to throb in her skull. "I'm never gonna get used to that," she huffed grumpily.

"Get used to what?" The redhead looked up from where she was rifling through the many bags sitting on Ashleigh's unmade bed, frowning curiously. The red dress lay folded neatly next to the nude heels and there was a little bag of make up in her right hand.

She collapsed in the chair nearest her desk and kicked her feet up on the table. "You know… teleporting. Doesn't it give you a headache?" Ashleigh asked.

Aph shook her head thoughtfully. For a minute, the only sound in the room was the muffled beeping of her alarm. Maybe she'd asked a bad question, Ashleigh worried. "The first time I teleported, a long, long time ago, it did feel weird. Exhilarating, but weird. This was back when I walked amongst humans as a goddess," she wrung her fingers together and she sounded dreamy, as if she was remembering good memories that had occurred a long time ago. "It was scary, I guess, and I had to learn how to control it so I didn't end up teleporting to China when I wanted to go to Greece." She chuckled a little. "I actually did that once, you know. I meant to go to Norway and I ended up in the middle of the Pacific Ocean." Aph smiled softly, pushing her hair behind her ears. "Anyways, enough about that – we've got a party to get you ready for!" Her tone was much brighter and she beamed widely, brandishing an eyeliner pencil in her hand.

Ashleigh felt herself swallow hard and she kicked her legs off the desk. Oh dear God. Ashleigh liked makeup, but she remembered trying out eyeliner for the first time by herself when she was about twenty-two and didn't have anyone to put it on for her and she had stabbed herself in the eye with the pencil. Needless to say, it hadn't exactly been a great experience. But she trusted that Aphrodite wasn't going to make her look like a panda.

And if she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend she was fifteen and at a sleepover with her friends, making each other over and teasing each other about boys and the like. She did miss being younger and how it seemed to be free of all the complications of her life now, but honestly? She wasn't sure if she'd trade her old life for her new one. The dreams were horrible and made her feel like shit, but she had people like Loki and Aphrodite. Besides, being a teenager was honestly the suckiest thing ever. She'd been treated like a kid but expected to behave like an adult, which wasn't at all fair.

After Aphrodite had shoved her into the shower, demanding that she wash her hair off _– "Dude, it's all greasy and gross. Shampoo was invented for a reason," – _and then preceded to use makeup that Ashleigh had no idea even _existed. _What in God's name was a contour stick? She'd originally thought that you just needed concealer and foundation, -Ashleigh shimmied into her dress and pulled her shoes on, standing up for the first time.

"Holy _shit_, I can see everything!" she exclaimed. At her embarrassingly short height of five foot four, all she'd always had to look up to answer people. And then there were the people that tried to bend down to talk to her, like she was some sort of child that needed to be babied. Now that was fucking annoying. Aph bustled around her, lipstick and concealer in hand and began fixing up the little flaws in her red lips and Ashleigh complied, pouting her mouth on request and opening her eyes wide.

"You can look in the mirror now," Aphrodite announced and with her hands on her shoulders, she turned Ashleigh around so she was facing the mirror.

"Holy…" Ashleigh couldn't speak. She looked so… _different. _Her cheekbones were sharp and pronounced, skin free of blemishes and smooth. Her eyebrows were arched and dark, framing the rest of her face in a way that was utterly foreign. The eyeliner and mascara made her eyes dark and sultry, the bright green popping whenever she blinked. Her red lips were plump and shiny, her blonde hair gently tousled and pushed to one side. She looked _awesome_. The gold necklace accentuated her collar bone and her dress – holy shit, her dress made her look like she actually had curves and hips.

"Loki, you wanna come in now?" she barely registered Aphrodite calling out to the Norse god on the other side of the door because she was too busy marveling at the stranger in the mirror. Aphrodite had banished Loki because of 'girl stuff' and that he wouldn't understand, and mock-sheepish, he'd made a dramatic exit.

Ashleigh felt oddly nervous at the sound of his _okay_, smoothing her hands down the front of her red dress. She was acutely conscious of Aph and Loki eyeing her blatantly and swallowed unsteadily – Jesus, what was she? Some middle schooler at their first dance? It did kind of feel like that, standing in front of Loki. His expression was unreadable and his eyes were clouded, taking in the brilliant red dress. Wringing her hands, she cracked an uncharacteristically shy grin. "So… what do you think?" Ashleigh tried hopefully.

He didn't say anything for another couple of minutes, and she found herself worrying. Was she too pale? Were the heels too high? Was the dress too – she nearly groaned out loud. Since when had she become so invested in other people's opinions? Especially Loki's? Well, that might have sounded a little harsh. She liked the guy, but she didn't care enough about what he thought about her. Then why was her heart was flip flopping around in her chest at his expression? Jesus Christ. She needed help. "Y-you look good, Ash." he managed after a little while. A hand came up to push his hair out of his face, jerky and habitual, she noticed.

Still wearing that same stupid grin – it was starting to hurt her cheeks now – she replied, "Uh… thanks?" His eyes didn't leave her and feeling awkward underneath his golden gaze, she settled for lacing her fingers together and wringing her hands simply to have something to do with them

Aph was just lounging against Ashleigh's door with a playful smirk playing across her lips. She looked, for the lack of a more eloquent phrase, _fucking incredible. _Her dark blue dress clung tight to her chest, nipping in at the waist tightly and flaring out to a silk skirt that cut in the middle of her thighs. At the back it was longer, brushing the floor every time she moved. "Jesus Christ, Loki, I swear you're usually more articulate than this," she cut in with a mischievous expression, laughing a little at the Norse god – who immediately shot her a dirty look.

"Shut up, Aph," Loki retorted with a friendly eye roll.

Aphrodite unfolded her arms and stood up from where she was propped against the wall, cocking her hip out. Her response was cool and instantaneous. "Bite me." Ashleigh had to admire the swiftness of the comeback and the sultry way she said it.

Watching Loki and Aphrodite argue was like watching the Battle of the Players, and she found it absolutely hilarious. The trickster god cleared his throat. "Don't tempt me." Loki wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and she cringed. Oh, God.

Glancing up at the clock worriedly, Ashleigh reminded, "Hey, _hey_, if we're actually gonna make it to the party, we should probably leave now." Nerves were starting to flare in the pit of her stomach and her knees were getting wobbly – holy _shit_, was she really about to willingly put herself in the same situation she'd been in a month ago? Was she really that stupid? Abruptly feeling nauseous, she focused on breathing in and out carefully. _You're gonna be okay, just don't do anything… stupid. _In a desperate attempt to calm herself, Ashleigh inhaled deeply and tried to still her shaking hands.

"It's called being fashionably late. Never arrive to a party too early, then you look eager and desperate. Besides, everyone's gonna be anticipating our arrival then," Loki explained, not before expertly displaying the maturity he had thousands of years to develop by sticking his tongue out at the goddess opposite him.

Ashleigh felt like she was going to throw up. "Wait, what?" she spluttered, freaked out. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears and she felt a little dizzy thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong – she could get cornered by another god or goddess, or maybe she might have one of her weird visions, or – shaking her head abruptly to snap herself out of her panicked. "Wait, wait, do they know I'm _human_?" Ashleigh asked disbelievingly, her voice going a little squeaky at the end.

Aph spared her a cursory glance and returned to picking at her nails again. "Duh. If we told them you were a goddess or an immortal, then they'd immediately know that you weren't." She shrugged as if it wasn't terribly important, but it only scared Ashleigh further. She could feel her breathing quicken and it felt like a hot rubber band was slowly tightening around her chest.

"But then they might… _eat me_ or something," she protested weakly, her hands trembling so she balled them into fists. Turning to Loki for support, Ashleigh looked at him imploringly.

Loki didn't seem as blasé as Aphrodite. The concern in his expression was almost overwhelming and he placed a light hand on her back reassuringly. "Hey, _hey," _he said gently as she focused on breathing in and out. "Don't worry about it, I'm gonna be right there with you." His tone was warm and comforting and Ashleigh kind of wanted to smack herself because of how needy and stupid she probably looked. Something in her chest tightened at the encouragement in his tone and his hand on her back sent shivers down her spine. Some little voice in the back of her mind sighed loudly. _Oh my fucking God. This is really pathetic. _"You're going to be fine," Loki promised and she found herself believing him.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and felt the pressure on her chest and lungs slowly decrease as she managed to calm herself down. "A-are you sure?" Ashleigh asked quietly, needing that last little bit of reassurance. She believed that he wouldn't lie to her about that, he hadn't lied to her yet and she trusted him. If he said she was going to be okay and that he'd be right there, then she was going to believe him.

"Loki's put a protection charm on that necklace, it should let people know that you're there under his protection, yeah?" Aph gestured at the simple gold chain around her throat, a little less nonchalant than before and she did look sincere.

"I promise you'll be okay." Loki reaffirmed, glancing at Aphrodite quickly.

Ashleigh cracked a small smile. "If you say so…" she nodded and licked her lips, eyes flickering up to Loki's encouraging expression furtively.

;;;

As soon as they reappeared, Ashleigh felt her mouth drop open in shock. "Holy… Jesus Christ…" she managed, suddenly incapable of forming normal sentences because holy _shit_, the artist part of her brain was thrust into overdrive. She was standing (more like wobbling) in front of what was possibly the most incredible looking house she'd ever seen. Tall and elegant with an indescribable grace, the mansion was made of white sandstone and looked at least five stories high. It looked more like what she'd imagine a Four Seasons resort to look like rather than somebody's house. But the architecture of the house wasn't even the best bit, no the _best _bit was the floating multi-color lights bobbing up and down gently in the mild breeze. Vibrant pinks, greens and blues, they cast an ethereal light over the crowds of stylishly dressed gods and goddesses lounging around the front door. Golden light streamed from the open doors, and along with it a heavy beat that she could feel in her bones from where she was standing – about a hundred feet away. Intoxicated by the sheer feeling of the house, Ashleigh felt herself grin in awe and release Loki's hand, making for the front door, all of her previous worries long discarded.

Loki soon caught up to her though and resumed walking beside her leisurely. He turned to her, raised eyebrows and a smile playing on his lips. "Impressive, eh?"

Looking back up at the house in front of her, Ashleigh struggled for words. "Are you kidding me?" she finally managed, laughing in complete disbelief – she felt incredible already and was on a silly high from the sheer atmosphere. "This is awesome – hold up, are those _massive floating lanterns_? That's fucking cool." She pointed at the lanterns hovering above her.

"It's pretty simple magic, just a couple of levitation spells," Loki shrugged as if he saw them every day and they were nothing new. Which they probably weren't, but whatever. He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her gaze up to where she was staring at them in awe, nodding. "Thoth probably did these ones." he guessed, pulling a face.

Turning on her heel and raising her eyebrows high, she asked, "The Egyptian god?" Holy crap, she was about to meet some of the gods and goddesses she'd freaking written papers about in college – she felt herself getting over excited and had to remind herself to calm the fuck down before she had a heart attack.

Still weirdly nonchalant, Loki answered without looking at her "Yeah, he's pretty cool. Little more hippie than you'd expect for a god of wisdom and knowledge, but still." He looked over at her once more and his eyes were warm and sincere when he said, "You do look really good, Ash. I mean it." At the compliment, Ashleigh felt herself turn approximately the same shade of red as her dress.

"I… ah –" she was saved the trouble of fumbling for an appropriate response by Aphrodite, who squeezed herself in between the two of them and slung an arm around Ashleigh's shoulders, heels clacking against the marble of the steps up to the front door. Holy _shit_, this dude was probably freaking loaded.

The redheaded goddess huffed loudly and flipped her hair back, sending the smell of vanilla perfume wafting behind her. "Jeez, are you two ever gonna stop talking?" she laughed loudly, smirking in a knowing way. Aphrodite winked at Ashleigh slowly before turning back to Loki and reminding, "We've got to actually go say hi to Dionysus, I mean I also got him a gift as well." She looked at the two of them pointedly, mock-disapproving: _did __**you**_ _get him a gift? Yeah. Didn't think so. _

Loki coughed and looked aside awkwardly. "Really? What'd you get him?"

Shrugging, the goddess answered with a little smile, "An eternally refilling _Moët & Chandon _bottle." Ashleigh nearly choked – holy shit, that was cool. Refilling charms? She had to learn how to do that.

"…ah. Good idea." Loki offered, looking slightly guilty and Aphrodite let out a little self-satisfied noise, laughing playfully and bumping Ashleigh's hip with her own.

The goddess's attention seemed to have been redirected to her, because she fixed her with a steely grey gaze and cracked a blinding grin. "Go on, you little party animal! Mingle! Socialize! Don't hang out with Loki for the whole time – he's gonna be _working_," she made a face and Ashleigh was abruptly reminded of the real reason that they were at Dionysus' party: her freaky dreams. The mood sobered a little, but picked right back up when Aphrodite slapped her butt playfully – yes, Ashleigh did jump in surprise – and pointed a finger at the door. "Go on! _Shoo_!"

As she walked away from the pair of gods and goddesses, blonde hair shining in the golden lights and hips swaying, Aphrodite leaned over to Loki. "You reckon the atmosphere's sunk in yet?" She asked, smirking a little. Dionysus always radiated this aura that immediately put people in the mood for partying and it sure had brought Ashleigh out of her shell, considering that she winked at one of the bouncers beside the door and her hips were moving to the thudding beat already.

Loki chuckled lowly as they made their way through the crowd slowly. "Yeah…" he said and something akin to affection shone in his gaze as he watched Ashleigh navigate her way through the mass of bodies moving to the beat, eyes wide with wonder and red mouth parted as the exhilaration sunk in.

Aphrodite smirked at him. "Dude, you got it _bad_," she remarked and shook her head. The old Loki she knew regarded humans as mildly amusing pets that were fun to toy with but died all too easily and were kind of stupid. And now he was throwing his godly responsibilities out the window to help this human girl through her admittedly shady nightmares? Very uncharacteristic of him. She felt the connection between Loki and Ashleigh and had to wonder their story, why they were so connected.

Loki blanched, "Hold on, what?" He chuckled nervously and raked his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. Aphrodite raised her eyebrows and smirked at his suddenly flustered expression. "Aph… I'm with Kali, you do know that right?" He managed and his tone was a little disbelieving, but the way he craned his neck to check that Ashleigh was still in eyesight totally negated that comment. Hiding emotions from the goddess of love? Nice try, Loki.

"With that controlling bitch?" Recalling how arrogant and rude Kali could be, she made a face. Aphrodite hated Kali with a passion, ever since that one party ages ago where she'd been called a cheap whore by the Hindu goddess, but she tried to quash her emotions down and remain level headed. "Huh," she said in a carefully neutral tone and didn't look at him. "Never woulda thought."

"She's not all that bad," Loki defended and looked at her imploringly with wide golden eyes and changed the subject abruptly, tripping over his words as he said lamely, "I… I just wanna help Ashleigh, yeah? That's all. Kali'd kill me if there was anything else."

Aph scoffed loudly and rolled her eyes, deciding to ignore the comment about Kali – God, she hated that bitch. Feeling herself getting pissed again, she clenched her teeth and worked her jaw irately. "Since when do you _help_ humans?" She asked pointedly and the question did come out a little bitter, not something that she'd intended and she tried to soften the question by adding, "What happened between the two of you?"

He hadn't seemed to have picked up on the sourness in her tone and for once, Loki didn't seem to have an immediate answer for the question and she felt the corners of her mouth pull into a smirk. Very smooth, trickster. "…she's different." She noticed how he also avoided the question about what was going on between the two of them and smirked.

"Really? How?" she pressed further and raised her eyebrows expectantly. She was going to get a straight answer out of the stubborn god, her sanity be damned. The two of them were kind of… magnetized together and she could sense a stronger connection that had nothing to do with newly felt emotion.

"I – I don't _know_," he responded emphatically, hands gesturing wildly and he sounded like he'd spent a while trying to figure out why they were so pulled towards each other. He looked like he was completely devoid of answers and he managed, voice steady and assured, like he believed the words coming out of his mouth more than anything he'd ever heard, "she just _is_." The silence hung heavily in the air.

Deciding to break the awkward silence, Aphrodite grabbed at his hand and chuckled "Whatever, Loki. Whaaaatever." She led the Norse god through the crowds of people, holding on to him so that she didn't lose him in the crowd. They should probably find Ashleigh before she started doing something stupid because Jesus, those drinks they were serving were pretty strong.

They spotted her familiar head of blonde hair in a crowd of people moving near the balcony and Aphrodite full on dragged Loki towards Ashleigh, moving quickly so that they didn't lose her again. Her head was tipped back and her eyes were closed, totally blissed-out and her hips were swaying in a hypnotic rhythm. Damn, she'd done a good job with that one, Aphrodite mentally congratulated herself and reached out, gently shaking the blonde girl's shoulder. "Ash?"

"Mhm?" she managed and her green eyes were bright, her blonde hair a tousled mess and her cheeks were pink from the heat of the room. She flashed a silly grin full of white teeth, "Hey, Loki, I thought you were out there –" she gestured vaguely at the rest of the house "– somewhere."

Aphrodite grinned at the human girl's expression - mildly tipsy and high on the feeling of being surrounded by people.

Just as she was about to say something, Ashleigh cut over the top. "This reminds me of some of the parties I crashed in college, except way, _way _cooler." She laughed and pushed her hair out of her eyes, remembering some of her own college parties. Considering that she was too broke to actually throw one, she'd usually just sneak into them with a couple of friends. It really had been too long since she'd been out.

Loki stepped forwards and his gold eyes were darker, glittering as he smirked, "Ashleigh Waldenberg, crashing parties. Never would have thought." He shook his head mock-admonishingly at her but she could see the smile playing on his mouth and something in her stomach twisted at the expression. She could feel her cheeks beginning to heat up, but she decided through the haze in her mind that she didn't _care_.

Shoving him playfully – okay, maybe she'd lost most of her inhibition and reclusive behavior, but the feeling of finally getting out and feeling normal was just too good to ignore. She asked challengingly, "What's _that _supposed to mean?" Aph rolled her eyes, muttering something about banter, denial and needing drink and wandered over to the glowing bar in the left corner of the room they were in. She was almost yelling her responses at Loki, _that _was how loud it was in here. Ashleigh was probably going to lose her hearing after this.

She heard him chuckle faintly and he shrugged, his face half lit by the bright flashing lights in the room. "I dunno… just never really pegged you as the type."

Ashleigh snickered – seriously? Well, she hadn't really done much after she'd first met him a month ago except for be snarky and generally awkward. Maybe it was something in the air, maybe it was the weird green shot she'd accepted from the bartender, maybe Aphrodite was doing something but made her slowly walk forwards until they were only a few inches apart and she huffed, poking him in the shoulder, "What, a goody two shoes? Shut up, dude."

He raised an eyebrow at their suddenly very close proximity, but didn't move an inch from where he stood on the marble floor. Loki was still "No, I –"

She laughed again, surprised at how flirty she was being. Some part of her wanted to slap herself out of it, but the larger, more dominant part of her _liked _teasing Loki, like he usually did to her. "Suuuuure. Whatever, Loki." Suddenly spotting a person carrying a tray of martini glasses filled with neon pink liquid, she asked, "Hey, what's in those pink drinks?"

Loki frowned, reaching up high to catch a glimpse – she'd forgotten how much taller she was in her new shoes. "I can't see them – oh! Yeah, that's nectar, the most potent shit ever. It's awesome, though. Two glasses of that and you'll be dancing on the bar, kiddo. That is, if the bartender would actually let you." He laughed and shook his head, and she smirked, hip-checking him slyly.

"Do they taste good? What else is in them?"

"Eh," he made a so-so motion with his hand and pulled a face, but his demeanor soon returned to teasing. "That is, if you're into pink fruity drinks." He raised his eyebrows, almost mockingly.

Ashleigh rolled her eyes and retorted with a giggle, "Aw, shut up. I'm allowed to like my pink fruity drinks, don't you judge me," she sassed, one hand on her left hip.

"Whatever, Ashleigh Waldenberg. Whatever." The bright lights cast a golden glow on his hair as he looked down, and he looked like he was about to say something completely different, but then he jolted up and managed an: "I, ah, gotta go. Don't do anything stupid, okay?"

Wait, what? She craned her neck back to where he was looking over, confused as hell. Had she said something? Was he okay? And that was when she saw her. Perched elegantly on a stool at the bar with her legs crossed and twirling her finger around her wine glass, Kali eyed Ashleigh coolly, her wide eyes dark and expression unreadable, mouth pursued. Her black dress was tight and clung to her in all the right places and Ashleigh suddenly felt very inadequate and inferior under the unwavering stare of the Hindu goddess. "You sounded like you were expecting me to," she shot back unsteadily, trying to cover up her fumble and how insecure she suddenly felt. It was like Kali had ripped her down from her silly high and she was acutely aware of how out of place she was again.

Noticing where her gaze had wandered to, Loki managed, "I – ah…"

"Nah," Ashleigh waved it off, covering her soured mood with a wide grin and a wink. "Go get her, tiger." She jabbed her thumb over at Kali, hoping and praying that her I-don't-give-a-damn attitude was convincing the Norse god.

He nodded, flashing an apologetic smile and began to make his way through the crowd deftly. Ashleigh's smile abruptly dropped and she frowned down at the floor. Damn Kali. Damn her to Hell. Seeing Loki snagging a barstool next to her and grin flirtatiously at the stoic goddess made her pissed. Jesus Christ. She was too sober to deal with this.

Whatever. She shrugged it off and straightened herself up, tossing her hair back. Ashleigh wasn't going to mope because of Kali. She had better things to do, like actually have fun, for one. Forget about her crappy reality. Grabbing one of the godly potent cocktails from a tray that was being passed it around, she took a swig. The neon pink liquid burned down her throat and left a strawberry aftertaste and she licked her lips, the potent alcohol and the nectar already making her forget her jealousy and dislike.

She felt someone grab her hips from behind and pull her close into a tall, muscular body and she softened, allowing herself to sway to the music with the unknown man before, not caring about what people were gonna say. Ashleigh twirled around to meet his nearly black eyes and smirking appreciatively, she began to lead him back into the crowd and he followed her, eyeing her up and down appreciatively. Whatever. She didn't need Loki or Aph to have a good time.

Just as she began to lead Tall Dark and Handsome back into the crowd, she caught Kali's eye one last time and feeling especially bold (probably due to the second cocktail she just downed – hey! That shit was incredible) she winked insolently and mouthed a daring: _fuck you, _spinning around before Kali had the chance to say anything back, twining her arms around the mystery guy's neck, giggling stupidly.

Maybe tonight wasn't gonna be as bad as she'd originally thought.

* * *

**Author's Note: Well... I'm back! *smiles nervously* **

**Please feel free to yell at me because I've been a massive dick when it's come to updating, **_**but **_**the good news is that most of my exams are over and I should probably be updating more often now! I'm not discontinuing this fic anytime soon! Don't worry! **

**Also, do you have any good SPN blogs to recommend? I've been searching around and was wondering if there were any awesome ones that I need to follow asap.**

**Next chapter we're going to have some surprising twists and turns, a little bit of drunk!Ashleigh, annoyed!Kali and jealous(ish)!Gabriel! Stay tuned, because I'm really excited about this. What did you think about Aph and Loki's chat? Why is Ashleigh dreaming about Yellow Eyes? Hmmn… so many questions! If there's anything else you want to see more of, then drop me a review and tell me! Tipsy!Ashleigh is really fun to write, lol. **

******Before I forget, I started up the tumblr blog if you wanna go check it out and follow it so you can get updates and news from yours truly if you want to hear about how the next chapter is coming along, if you want to ask a question or if you want to know about any important news regarding the fic. The url is switchblade-heart tumblr com :3**

**Also, I just wanted to say thank so much for putting up with my awful updating schedule. All your comments, favorites and follows mean the world to me, and I just want to say thanks. **

_**Review? **_


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Supernatural, Humor, Romance