Loki stood at the kitchen sink of the one bedroom apartment he was allowed. His eyes gazed longingly out the window, at the sky. He wished desperately to be off this planet, and amongst the lucky ones allowed to wander freely. Perhaps if he hadn't attacked Midgard, however, he wouldn't be in this predicament. Abruptly, he turned when a sharp rap was heard at the door. Had dear Thor decided to pay him a visit? He rolled his eyes, hoping not.

His fingers wrapped around the brass knob and turned. Pulling open the door, his eyes widened. He blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Nope, it was still there.

Loki looked down at the grey-split hooves, which held the beast. His eyes traveled up the seven and a half feet of brown fur, and hesitated when it reached the tan antlers which were easily five feet in length—if not more. What was this thing doing here?

Loki had always been the one to pull pranks. He had never known anyone that could pull a fast one over on him, but to say he was startled by the mammoth beast was an understatement.

His eyes darted past the beast into the hallway, searching—hoping— Thor was somehow involved in all of this. If not… How was it a full-grown bull moose arrived on his doorstep?

"Hello."

Loki's eyes turned upon the beast before him, an eye brow rose in question. Had it just said hello?

"Sorry to surprise you." Yes, the moose was clearly talking. Loki could see its lips moving. It spoke in a low tone from the gut. How was this dark magic possible? "I'm sure you don't get many of my kind visiting you."

Loki cleared his throat. "No, beast. I have yet to come across one of your... kind, that uses the Midgardian speech."

"Most of my brethren have forgotten how to speak." The moose nodded, a sadness in his eyes. "The two legged creatures have forced them to become boorish."

Whatever was this beast going on about? Did he believe Loki had the time to speak with him? "What is it you want?"

"May I come in? I've been traveling for weeks now, and I could use a break."

"And you think I will allow you entrance?"

"If you would be so kind."

Loki gaped. Surely he was dreaming. Moose—moosen?— didn't just arrive at doors and ask to come in. At a loss, he opened the door wider and allowed the moose in.

"Thank you kindly. What is your name, two-legged?" It shifted its antlers sideways through the door frame and crouched slightly as it entered.

"L-Loki." He glanced into the hallway to see if anyone had noticed this weird phenomenon. Seeing that no one was there, he shut the door, and turned towards the large beast. "And you are?"

"You can call me Milton. That's the easiest way to say my name in your language."

"You think this Midgardian speech to be my language? Do you know whose residence you've stumbled upon?"

"The shelter of Loki."

"I am the Norse God of Mischief and Chaos."

"Never heard of it."

Loki's jaw was left dangling for a few seconds. Loki was not an it! He was a god! He was about to snap a retort when he realized he would look ridiculous arguing with a beast.

"Do you have anything to eat?" asked Milton.

"I do not eat twigs and leaves."

The moose sniffed. "That's fine; I could go for a muffin."

"A muffin?"

"I smell them in the other room."

Thor had brought Loki muffins yesterday. While being impartial towards who delivered the gift, he didn't want to share the muffins. Frigga had made them. They were his favorite growing up, and it was those little acts that let him know she still loved him.

"I haven't eaten in a few days. It's so cold and most of the food has hidden for the winter."

"If I give you one, will you leave?"

The moose nodded.

As Loki trudged to the kitchen. He was positive his eyes brows would never lower again. Since when did Midgardian creatures speak? Well, parrots did, but that was another story—He didn't trust the rats with wings.

Pulling a silver bucket from the counter, he reached in and pulled out a muffin. With a sparkle of sadness in his eyes, he handed the muffin to the moose that followed him in the kitchen. His lip curled slightly as the beast took the muffin from his hand and downed it.

He grunted in approval. "That was delicious. May I have another?"

Reluctantly, Loki pulled out another of the muffins he loved dearly, and presented it to the moose.

"Do you have jam to go with it?" questioned Milton.

Loki gritted his teeth as he placed the bucket on the counter, and moved towards the fridge. He opened the door and pulled out the only jam in there—homemade blackberry jam from Frigga. His heart seized as he took a silver, butter-knife, and spread the jam across the muffin. Frigga—whom he still considered his mother, despite the events— had made this especially for him. It was his favorite type of jam.

His teeth clenched together as the moose devoured it. His eyes narrowed as the moose asked for more. Before long both the jam, and his bucket of love muffins were gone, as was Loki's patience.

"Are you finished now? Don't you need to be on your way?" growled the god.

"I am tired from battling the cold," Milton replied. "Do you have more muffins?"

"No."

"Can you make more?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Will you leave then?"

"I will."

Loki sighed. "Fine." He turned, and dug through his cupboards for muffin mix. After going through several cabinets, he remembered that he had used the last box a week ago. "I'll have to run to the store."

Walking to the entrance, he pulled a long, forest-green cloak from the closet. He glanced up to see the moose following him. "Stay here."

"Please, may I go with you?"

"Midgardian's don't take moose to the store with them." Moosen?

"I don't know what a Midgardian is, but I've always wanted to see the inside of a two-legged shelter."

"You are in a 'shelter'."

"A very small one, and I'm a pretty large moose. I would like to see what other places the two-legged animals dwell in."

"They don't live in a store. They don't bring animals into a store."

"I've seen them bring the four-legged fanged canines of death with them. I will pretend to be a large one of those."

Loki's palm connected with his forehead with a sharp slap. "Fine, you may accompany me. If you get shot, I will not mind in the least."

Loki opened the door to his house, only to see the moose lingering in the entryway. "What is it now?"

"It's cold outside."

"You're a moose," Loki deadpanned. "You have thick fur."

"Do you have a sweater I could borrow?"

"You won't fit."

"Of course I will."

"You stupid beast, you're too large."

"How do you know? Have you put a sweater on a moose?"

"Well, no," Loki replied. "But I can judge by your size that my garments will not fit you."

"You never know for sure unless you've tried."

Loki took a deep breath as he ran a hand over his face. Marching back inside, he grabbed a sweater from the closet and tossed it at the moose. "There," he growled.

Milton took the sweater and looked over its green fabric. "Loki, do you have a needle and thread?"

"Why?"

"There's a button that's loose."

With his head toward the ground, he re-entered his apartment. Walking to a small basket, he opened it and retrieved a needle and some thread. "Are you going to sew it yourself?"

Milton nodded as he sat on his haunches. "Mother showed me how when I was little."

Loki looked at the sight before him as the moose took the needle and thread and began sewing. Out of all the questions he could have wondered, he chose to focus on 'do moose—moosen?—sit on their haunches?'

Milton finished stitching up the sweater. Loki was bewildered when the moose put on the sweater. He used his split hooves like hands and tugged it on. How in the world did that fit?

"Snug as old antlers," Milton replied with a smile.

Loki's head lolled back as he looked at the ceiling. Odin must be punishing him severely.

"Do you have some socks?" Milton asked, looking fondly at the buttons on the sweater.

"Why?"

"My grandmother used to make puppets out of lost socks from two-legged creatures."

"I am not giving you socks so that you can make some idiotic sock puppets, you ridiculous creature," snapped Loki.

The moose pouted, his eyes grew large. "Please?"

"Will you promise to leave after that?"

The moose nodded.

With a huff, he marched to his bedroom and retrieved two mismatched socks. Although he didn't want to admit it, at least this was a way of getting rid of these. He returned to the living room, and handed the socks to the moose.

Loki stretched across the couch staring at the ceiling as the moose went to work making his sock puppets. Perhaps if he apologized profusely to Odin, the All-father would remove this moose from his midst—not that Loki would mean any of it.

The moose bellowed triumphantly, causing Loki to fall off the couch. Wide-eyed, he peered at the creature wondering what was going on. What he saw was something that worried him greatly.

On the creatures front hooves sat the socks. The one on his right leg was dressed as a…? Loki wasn't positive, but he assumed it was a girl from the yellow yarn draped off the forehead. Red lined the lips of the sock puppets mouth. Shiny black buttons were used for eyes, complete with black string but into eye-lashes. Where had the moose gotten that stuff from? Since when did Loki keep yarn in his apartment? And furthermore, how was the moose making that mouth?

The one on the left Loki assumed was a male. It looked exactly like the puppet on the right, except it held no hair or lipstick. The god slumped back onto the couch as the moose smiled.

"Can I put on a puppet show for your viewing pleasure?"

"Do I have a choice?" Loki sighed.

The moose shook his head and began the show. From what Loki could gather it was about two friends meeting and then marrying each other. Or one might have been eating the other in a zombie attack. Loki's thoughts strayed often towards a frying pan during the "performance". Either he could hit the moose over the head—which he didn't think would work—or he could hit himself. The latter seemed appealing.

When the moose finished, he smiled. "How did I do?"

Loki paid no mind to the question. "Will you leave now?"

"What about the muffins you promised?"

Loki huffed a sigh and rose. "Fine. But after that, you're leaving."

Milton smiled as he hoofed the needle and remaining thread back into the baffled god's hand. The puppets were placed on the floor and he followed Loki outside.

Out on the street, Loki pulled up the collar of his jacket, and he made for the grocery store. Perhaps people wouldn't notice the giant nuisance trailing. Milton clopped behind him, looking at the tall grey buildings, and bellowing with surprise from time to time. Apparently the beast had never been this close to Midgardian civilization.

Loki had no doubt Heimdall was watching his every move, and finding pleasure in his plight—smug ass. He only hoped that Stark wouldn't stumble upon him. He would never hear the end of it, then.

Upon reaching the store, he tried to enter inconspicuously, but that was rather hard with an enormous wooded creature, bellowing loudly at everything he loved. Loki contemplated slamming his head into a wall.

Loki entered the baking mix aisle, and glanced at the different boxes he could bake with. A small smile quirked at the corners of his lips. He should buy a several boxes and bake them all. He loved having a sweet binge. It was his one luxury on this gods forsaken planet.

Milton was on his heels, his antlers swinging from side to side as he looked at the sight before them.

"We could make a cake!" bellowed the excited moose.

Loki could probably find a way to bake moose.

"What about this one?" asked Milton, his antler indicating a Red Velvet mix.

"No," he stated flatly. Loki loved Red Velvet, but he was not about to partake in a cake binge with the moose around. And he was not about to share one of his favorites with the beast. He had already devoured the love muffin bucket.

"Oh please! Oh please, oh please, oh please!" exclaimed Milton, and he swung his antlers from side to side.

Loki ducked. "Careful, you imbecile. You could injure someone."

"Sorry," Milton replied, steadying his head. "But please, can we make the red one?"

Loki sighed and grabbed the box. "As long as you leave afterwards."

The moose jumped up and down—a feat which surprised the god seeing as how the beast was well over 800 pounds. As Loki read the back of the box, Milton shook his antlers back and forth. The god never saw them coming.

*RBW*RBW*RBW

Loki jolted as he hit the cold stone floor beneath him, and looked about the dark cell. Thor was opening up the door, and entering. He watched as the god of thunder closed the gate behind him. Thor's eyes took in the sight of Loki laying on the floor, and settled on the book that lay across Loki's chest.

Thor chuckled. "Glad to see you enjoyed the book I gave you, brother. I hoped it might influence you to share and care for others."

Loki glanced down at the book he cradled. The title read: If You Give a Moose a Muffin.

Loosely based off of If You Give a Moose a Muffin. *Written for the moose challenge in The Reviews Lounge, Too forum. Hope you enjoyed! And I love comments!