“Mine is a pretty ordinary sort of life, actually,” Summer told him as they walked up to the cash registers. “I tend to spend a lot of time at home, reading, with my cats. That’s when I’m not out helping save the world, which is NOT something I’m going to take you on.” She fished a card out of her back pocket and paid for the clothes, handing Fenrir the bag.
“Is there something you’ve always wanted to do, but couldn’t, for … whatever reason?”
He grinned as he followed alongside her. “Saving Midgard, as much as I like it, is not something I shall ever aim to do.” It was meant as a joke, though the implications behind it caused it to fall rather flat. He accepted the bag cautiously, as if he feared he would drop it. Rather, the crinkling plastic just sort of weirded him out.
He contemplated her question, truly racking his brain for an answer. There were too many things that could possibly be done in one day, though Fenrir would have willingly exhausted himself trying. He touched his hand to his lip in thought, thinking over every little Midgardian thing that a visitor had told him about. He shrugged. “Never before have I eaten at a restaurant.” He offered. He was kind of hungry. He hadn’t really eaten since before his change into a mortal form. He felt somewhat bad for experiencing the world at the expense of another, but the want to move and do and experience outweighed that for now. He could always find some way to repay her kindness.
“Then I know exactly what to do.” Summer clapped her hands together gleefully. “There is this GLORIOUS Italian place just a few block away from my apartment. We’ll go back there and drop the car off, let you change, then walk down to Michelangelo’s so you can see more of what New York street-life is like.” She threw her arms up to the sky and spun in a little circle. “This is going to be really fun, Fen. I promise!”
He grinned, glad to see he could make someone so excited. “I look forward to it.” He almost felt spoiled, being able to do all of this on Midgard. He was actually surprised that no one had stopped him yet. Surely from his post on Asgard Heimdall could see Fenrir’s every move, could he not? The once-wolf allowed the thought to pass from his head, not wishing to allow it to spoil his time here on Earth. He followed Summer out of the dressing room when they were ready to leave.
She sang for him, on the way home, the lyric and tune to every song that came up on her iPod, sometimes flicking glances at him out of the corner of her eye and laughing. For herself, Summer felt like she hadn’t had this much pure fun in ages; the chance to show someone all the things she loved about the world. She let the happiness spill out of her, let it dance along her empathic senses, and hoped the mere brush of it would brighten someone’s day.
At her apartment, she unlocked the door quickly, pushing importunate cats out of the way with her feet. “Come in!”