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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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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."

"Well, then I've got a lot to teach you," she said, getting out the ingredients.

"Pretty basic. We start with flour, sugar, salt, baking powder," she said, getting out a recipe card. "You want to measure the flour? Now, with muffins, you don't want too much or it'll make them too dense. So, don't pack it in. Just spoon, nice and light, into the sifter here."

Tyr followed the directions until the final few words. That sounded dirty. No it didn't! "Okay, so pack it in?" Good grief, it sounds dirty when I say it too.

"No, no. Don't pack it," she said. "You want it light and fluffy. Spoon it gently, like this." Sif took his hand in hers and demonstrated. "Then we'll sift all the dry ingredients together."

She's so close. He tries t pay attention, he really does. He even caught himself breathing in the fragrance of her hair. I would do more than spoon it for you. Son of a..!

He gulps. "I think I understand." Was he sweating?

"You're doing great," she said, smiling as she measured out the rest of the dry ingredients.

"...and there's the sugar. Okay, now sift it all together... There we go. Now, we can put in the wet ingredients."

More and more carnal and romantic desire began to cloud his reasoning, making his rational self sound completely nonsensical in comparison.Still, he HAD to maintain a distance. He couldn't act on his feelings, no matter what Odin said. It couldn't happen..even if she was great with Tina. Damn it man! Stop thinking about her..admittingly good qualities.

"Alright," he said he began to sift it together. It was a little awkward with just one hand at first, but he was getting used to it.