She was surprised he agreed. It did not show on her face, but Lane was surprised none the less. The memories she had, those that belonged to Adella, she did not remember him every being so straight with her. But Adella was different. They may have shared a soul, but their lives were separated by so much. Adella had played with dark magic, sought more power, and destroyed herself in the process. Whatever James had done, Lane was sure of one thing.<br/><br/>She might be a creature of some darkness, but she was also a creature of light.<br/><br/>She watched him with perceptive eyes, trying to understand as he explained things. Her chin tilted downward and it looked as if she was trying to read what she should say next on the table. She would help him, that was a foregone conclusion. She was also likely to fall in love with him, he ticked a lot of the boxes on her historical list of things that drew her in. Wounded. Hurt. In need of help. Lying by omission, though she was certain *he* would not call it that. He also seemed to legitimately care about her, which was a step up from her previous romantic experiences.<br/><br/>"When my mom was sick, she used to talk about the chemo. She said it was the closest they could take you to death, without actually killing you. Sounds like your treatment has a similar effect." Lane frowned. Her mind was working hard over the details of her life, and her family. She was not dumb enough to believe this was some dormant, distant power within her. Her mother would likely claim it was, were she still alive. Lane sat back in the chair and let her mind roll over it all.<br/><br/>"Steve and I, we're only about 2 years apart. My dad has dark hair, like black nearly. Brown eyes. We used to make jokes that I had to be the mailman's kid, because I didn't look a thing like him. Steve, at least, had his eyes. He always took those jokes with grace...And my mom would talk about stories of Shield-Maidens. Did you know there's sort of three kinds of Valkyries? Of course, you know, you're the scholar right?" Those words came out more bitter than she had intended, but perhaps it was the fact that he had cracked open her world, and he had not intended to. "Doom maidens, vicious women with a lust for blood. They rode wolves in battle. The early Scandinavians were terrified of wolves. And then there were the most magnanimous kind, the kind that served Freyja and dealt out Odin's will on the battlefield. The Cup-Bearers of Valhalla. The final kind. The women that would tend to the warriors and pour them mead."<br/><br/>She let out a little laugh and shook her head. "Most of the Valkyries were maidens. Sweet, fair and strong. Sometimes they were daughters of gods and human women."<br/><br/>Her emerald eyes lifted to him then. And there was a sadness in them, the kind of sadness most adults discovered when they realized their parents were just human. Regular people with their own wants, needs and flaws.<br/><br/>"So you're a professor, how about we throw out a theory, yes?" She arched a brow at him, and her blond hair jostled as she leaned forward. "My mother slept with a Norse god of some sort, or another, while still married to my father -- The man I know as my father, at least-- She got knocked up. She had the kid and pretended things were either great, or my dad agreed to go along with it. Seems feasible." She nodded, suddenly adopting his more callous affect. In truth, the thought of it all bothered her, deeply. Maybe that was the reason for her strain with her mother, perhaps every time she looked at Lane, she saw her lover. The mistake she had made, the vows she had broken.<br/><br/>"So, if you're a betting man, want to wager on who my real pops could be?"