"What Grandchildren?"

There was a strong blast of power outside. Loki frowned, mildly concerned. Surely it wasn't Thor paying a visit? Or perhaps Odin, come to retrieve him? He would have no chance. Now that Loki had found happiness, he refused to have it stolen.

"I will see to this," he said, loudly enough for his lover to hear in the kitchen. Loki placed his volume of poetry aside – he was rather enjoying John Donne – and wandered over to the front door of their apartment. He left the chain across, and peered out the door. With a beaming smile he closed it again, unhooked the chain, and flung the door wide open.

"Good morrow, Loki."

"Mother! What brings you here?" Loki noticed the bags by her sides, and picked them up. He ushered Frigga into the living area, and tilted his head to close and lock the front door.

"Darling." Frigga cupped his cheek, and kissed his forehead. I have left your father. Which are my chambers?"

"Your… your chambers? You are welcome to the guest room, of course. Yet this… this is not the royal palace of Asgard, Mother."

"Who's there, Loki?"

"It is my mother. She has come to stay with us."

"Did she tell you she was coming?"

Loki cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, even though there was no way it could be seen through walls. Not unless he willed it, and it would have been too much effort for a trifle.

"I can assure you, I would have informed you were I aware of her intentions," he said.

"If I have caused you inconvenience, I can take rooms elsewhere," Frigga said. It was her halfway-to-disappointed tone. Loki hated that tone.

"Until you find a permanent residence, of course you are welcome here," he said, and he kissed her on both cheeks.

"You must take more substantial lodgings in due time," Frigga said, and Loki could feel her powers sweeping the apartment, examining every inch. With any luck, she would stay away from the bedside table drawers. "This is no place for you to raise my grandchildren."

There was a clatter of cutlery in the kitchen, hasty footsteps, and Nick poked his head into the living room. His one-eyed gaze zeroed in on Loki.

"Grandchildren?" he said. "What grandchildren?"

Written for a prompt on the Norse Kink Meme, round 15. I can't believe I haven't posted this on ffnet or AO3 until now! And poor, traumatised Fury. A sequel was requested on the kink meme, but I'm not sure where to go from here. I've written so much male pregnancy lately. I'm sure we're all aware, by now, of Loki's children in mythology. I'd be tempted not to go down that obvious route, I must admit, and get them to adopt or something. I don't know.

Please review!