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Characters: Tyr and Sif, Guest-starring Tina Shin
Date/Time: Friday, July 22th, starting around 7 p.m.
Location: Frosted Fancies, Chicago
Rating: TBD, but probably no more than PG.
Warnings: Possible eye-rolling cuteness.
Summary: Tyr and his daughter, Tina, go visit Sif over the weekend.

Kevin had to admit he was anxious as they got closer and closer to their destination.

His ever perceptive daughter caught on quick. "Are you sweating, Daddy?

"What? Oh yeah, a little, hon. I'm just a little hot."

"But you have the air conditioner on." She seemed to think a minute. "Are you worried about seeing your friend?"

Sometimes she could be way too perceptive. He sighs. "Yeah, honey. I am a little."

Again she seemed to think. "Is she your girlfriend?"

Kevin nearly coughed in surprise. "What? No, Tina. Amber is an old friend who I haven't had a chance to sit down and talk with for awhile, that's all."

Tina raised a screwed-up eyebrow at him, totally not convinced.

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"Me too. This is the first time we've really been able to sit and chat like this. I don't count the time in that weird hotel," Tyr stated. "You have a good life here."

"It's not bad," Sif agreed, "Though, I have to admit, it's a far cry from Iowa where I grew up. For all the people, it just doesn't have the same sense of community, you know? There are more strangers than neighbors here. Gets a little lonely sometimes."

"I can understand that. After the divorce I had to move out of my neighborhood for lower housing prices. When I did I got the "veteran's" response. By that time Iraq was no longer a popular idea, and people looked at me and my obvious injury with a combination of tentative respect, fear, and in some cases disgust. It's difficult starting somewhere new," he conceded.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sif said gently, laying her hand on his.

Unthinkingly he squeezed her hand back. "Thank you, but it's not me I'm concerned with. It's Tina and the..nature of her nightmares."

"Oh?" Sif asked. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to pry or not.

He looked at her with a knowing expression. "Images of a giant wolf."

Sif gaped.
"She... inherited that? Fenrir?"

"She hasn't seen all the images, thank whomever governs such things, but her description is very precise. She dreams of Fenrir. Why..I do not know. That's what her medication is for. So she can sleep easier with less chance of those dreams happening."

"I didn't know we could pass things like that on to our children..." Sif mused, "Her mother... Was she... one of us?"

"As far as I know, no," he answered. "Rebecca never showed any indications of being a former god, past human, or monster. No, I fear it's somehow my fault this is happening to her. How..I don't know." He holds his head in his hand in frustration.

Sif considered.
"I'm not sure it works that way. But, maybe we could ask Odin, or one of the others who has children," she suggested.

Kevin doesn't seem to hear her.

"I screwed up so much, Sif. My hand, my marriage, and my little girl's somehow inherited my baggage." He pauses. "Thank you for today. It's nice to see her so happy."

"Hey." She touched his cheek and made him look at her. "Maybe you've made some mistakes, and there's stuff at work here I don't even pretend to understand. But you are not a screw-up, okay? You are Tyr, the god of justice, and we need you."

"And... you're welcome."

Slowly his hand rests upon hers. "The face is different, but so much of the old Sif is plain in you," he said fondly. "The same Sif I..." he stopped suddenly. "Um, So how long have you had your store?"

She blushed a little.
"Thank you. I still see a lot of the old Tyr in you, too," she said.

"As for my bakery, I've been running it for about seven years now. I did some interning in college, and had to save up for it, but then I finally was able to open a bakery of my own, and it's wonderful. Of course, I've been cooking forever, it seems like. I was younger than Tina when I got my first purple ribbon at the county fair."

"That doesn't surprise me at all," he said with a smile. "It's nice to see you doing something you love."

"Thanks." Sif grinned.

"So.. is it true that you don't do much cooking at home?"

"My daughter underestimates my sheer ineptitude in the kitchen. I live off of microwave meals, sandwiches, and the occasional takeout. Rebecca was a slightly better cook. Though by slightly I mean she was less likely to burn the house down than I would," he said with a laugh.

"Oh, don't be silly," Sif said, "Anyone can cook decently with enough practice. Tell you what... Why don't you help me whip up a batch of muffins for breakfast tomorrow? It's really easy. All you have to do is stir, and not even much of that."

"Alright, I'll give it a shot. Though I wouldn't underestimate my ability to turn a peaceful kitchen into a food battlefield," he warned playfully.

"Messes can be cleaned," Sif said dismissively.

"Now... What's your favorite kind of muffin?"

"Um..I've never really ate muffins," he admitted sheepishly. "What would you recommend?"

"Never? Really?"

Sif considered. "How about lingonberry? It's a Swedish tradition," she suggested.

"I admit I've lived a sheltered life."

He nods at her suggestions. "Sounds like a good idea to me."