Hephaestus sat hunched over his desk. He was lazily at work approving designs, concepts, schedules, and budgets for the various VTS departments. The Big Fucking Things were coming along nicely and looked to be ready for a Spring 2011 opening. The symbolism of Spring was pleasing, but Hephaetsus would be happier if he could get the Things open earlier. America needed jobs, and Vadimas Lugosi, backed by VTS, had the resources to create those jobs. It was a simple equation, really.
In less pleasant developments, The Google Lunar X-Prize team had bogged down right at the finish line. It was the damn robot lunar rover again. It was functional, but was over the weight threshold by several kilos. Hephaestus knew that a simple change of materials would alleviate the problem completely, but Vadimas Lugosi was hesitant to just hand his staff the answer. It wasn’t such a great intuitive leap that he felt he needed to step in. They had to figure it out for themselves. That would be much more beneficial to them in the long run.
Hephaestus’ frustration was interrupted by Caiera’s voice coming through the intercom.
“Mr. Lugosi, there is a Ms. Janelle Delmar here to see you.”
There was indeed a Janelle Delmar there to see him. No longer was she beyond herself, having worked that much out of her system with her sister-in-law and brother, but her pleasant mood remained and still radiated from her as she chose to be patient for her very busy friend to manage to pull himself away from whatever project he was working on.
She’d give him time, understanding it was possible that whatever he was working on possibly could explode and thus couldn’t just be dropped immediately. Even though her nails were pristine and matched perfectly with the sleeveless summer dress she chose to wear, she still took the moment to check them anyway.
Hephaestus rushed to the door of his office, but with his hand on the knob, he pulled back.
No. No, it won’t do at all to rush out there like a dog greeting its master after a long absence. I’m sure Freyra will be wearing something she won’t want me to slobber on, anyway.
With that wry thought steadying him, Hephaestus took a moment to check himself over. His hair was tastefully disheveled in the modern style, though he had just shaved in the morning. He was wearing a red t-shirt emblazoned with an image of Krampus to remind his employees of upcoming deadlines. His utilikilt lay neatly folded (by Jarella) on a chair. He had exchanged the knee-length garment for simple black slacks when he realized he would be spending most his day sitting behind his desk. Walking back to his desk, he plucked his black blazer from its perch on the back of his chair and pulled it on.
Satisfied with his appearance and confident he wouldn’t bowl over Freyra in his excitement, Hephaestus walked back to the door and turned the knob. Stepping out into the reception area, he caught sight of Freyra immediately. It would have been impossible not to notice the radiant elfess.
“Janelle!” Hephaestus said warmly as he walked over to her. “It’s wonderful to see you again.” It was more than just a polite platitude. It was the truth.
"Vadimas! I knew you would be here and..." The elfess said in quick reply just as warmly, before consulting the delicate gold watch at her wrist, "since between the time I arrived here and now is between the time durations of 'doing nothing - immediance' and 'fashionably late', a favorite of mine, I assume you must have been working on something."
Hephaestus smiled what he hoped wasn’t a goofy smile as he tried to keep up with Freyra’s rapid-fire speech.
“Always,” he said in answer to her not quite question. “Though I’m just, ah,” he hesitated, both searching for a phrase that wouldn’t insult his staff and a bit distracted by Freyra, “tending the flock. What about you? What brings you to Miami?” He hadn’t heard from her in some time, and there had been no notice that she was in town. Of course, a bit of unpredictability was inherent in dealing with the pretty goddess.
"A bit of over-dramatic jubliance, but I am a woman of my word. No one in Ridgekeep was surprised when I went barreling out of that place so quickly." Freyra grinned as she spoke. Having calmed down some since her temporary departure from DC, she could see and understand how absurd her flight from work and home may have been... especially since both of those things were so inherent to her.
But just because she could see and understand how her overreaction may have been a touch absurd didn't mean she was in any way going to cease celebrating her new found freedom just yet. Her celebration and mood had just come back down to a more stable level. "I've been staying with my brother for a little bit and I figured I should stop by here and pay some of my glad tiding forward and liberate you from your own work, if you wouldn't mind."
“I wouldn’t,” he replied. “You’d be doing me a favor. I’m waiting for my guys to come up with a solution to a problem. I might as well have some fun while I wait. I just need a few minutes to wrap things up.” Hephaestus headed back through the door into his office and then invited Freyra inside. “Please, come in.”
He walked back over to his desk, but turned to Freyra before he sat back down.
“Would you like something to drink?” he offered, gesturing to a small bar area along one side of his office. “I have coffee, tea, water, even wine, if your so inclined.” He waited on Freyra’s order attentively. He wouldn’t be so rude as to get back to work immediately.
"Of course. I wouldn't want my favor to end up hurting whatever project you're working on," Freyra followed him, glancing around at his office, taking in her environment. Idly, she wondered how different his employees were to hers -- she assumed the employees would equally toe that line between nerds and mad scientists, but which group was more ready for their work to explode?
She hoped it was hers, if only for his poor staff's sake. "Let me have a coffee if its hot. I can't stand cold coffee."
Freyra’s staff was undoubtedly better prepared for explosions. Hephaestus’ direct intervention kept such incendiary failures to a minimum.
“It is,” Hephaestus confirmed with a nod as he headed over to the coffee pot. He reached out for the pot, only to grimace when his hands were met with cool glass. “Rather, it was. I didn’t think Jarella made it that long ago. Not to worry.” Hephaestus rolled up his sleeve and placed his hand underneath the glass carafe. He concentrated for a moment, and soon the coffee was bubbling hot and the aroma of coffee filled the air.
He poured two mugs of coffee and carried them back to his desk. Setting one down in front of Freyra, he took his and settled behind his desk. Putting down his drink, Hephaestus began hurriedly typing up recommendations and advice to wrap up his work for the day.
“So, why the jubilation?” Hephaestus asked, looking up briefly from his monitors. “Did something good happen?” Hephaestus was always up for some good news. It was such a novel change from what his family had to say.
Freyra lifted up the mug, wrapping her hands around it enjoying the feel of the heat through the cermaic against her palms before sipping at her black coffee. Drinking it allowed her to stall in her confession as she finally realized she didn't know certain facts.
Not that they were important. It just meant she couldn't use mortal names but that wouldn't have mattered anyway as Hephaestus wouldn't have known who the mortal name belonged to anyway. Very unimportant. "Heimdall is home," she explained in a still thrilled hush.
The palpable joy in Freyra’s voice gave Hephaestus pause, and he found himself looking at her once more. He forced his eyes back to his work before responding.
“Heimdall...” he said, letting the word trail off as he called up every bit of information on the god from his memory. He didn’t seem to have any recorded romantic relationship with Freyra. He was Asgard’s steadfast guardsman, with senses and perception beyond even the divine.
Guardsman? Hephaestus’ eyebrows drew together, and then understanding flooded his mind. Of course.
“No wonder you are so excited, then,” He began mirthfully. “Heimdall’s return must have removed quite a weight from your shapely shoulders.” With Loki removed from Ridgekeep, but not unaccounted for, Heimdall’s return must have been near ideal for Freyra.
Freyra couldn't help but grin under the weight of not only the correct assumption but the compliment. She nodded as she leaned against his desk. "Very much. I may have flown out of Ridgekeep. I don't know. I do know is that I promptly broke the cell phone that I had made into a remote monitoring device... which may have been a touch short sighted on my part, but still fun."
Hephaestus chuckled at her tale of catharsis. He couldn’t imagine willfully destroying a piece of technology, but he could understand the desire to destroy the onerous reminder of an unpleasant period of time.
“Well, we should celebrate your new-found freedom and Heimdall’s return,” Hephaestus suggested. “I’m just about finished here.” He looked at the chronometer on his workstation.
Five o’clock? When did that happen?” Hephaestus’ confusion lasted only a moment. Despite the rather mundane nature of the work, he had managed to lose himself in it nonetheless. That would explain the cold coffee.
On the plus side, all the best places to bring an attractive, hyperactive woman would be open in just a few hours.
“How does tapas and dancing sound?” he suggested. The appetizer-like tapas would allow her to eat as little, or as much, as she wanted without being obvious about it, and it wouldn’t weigh them down too much while dancing. And, thanks to Hades’s request, Hephaestus was now familiar with every bar, club, restaurant, and any other liquor-dispensing establishment in Miami. He knew all the best spots. And all the worst. Whichever Freyra was into that night.
"Sounds fun. TMZ didn't catch me when I was out with Jarrod and Val," or they simply didn't air the footage. Either way, that night had been excessive in her immediate need to celebrate being liberated Vanir from the drudgery more suited for an Aesir. Now her soul was more calmed... Now she felt like celebrating the liberation more seen when a creative soul was freed from organizing extreme workplace minutiae.
Slowly, she was transitioning back to normal. Slowly, slowly.
She focused on her coffee and him, mentally keeping his monitor screen from her view. "Maybe they'll catch me with you. Have more video game jokes."
“Let them joke,” Hephaestus said defiantly as he finished up the last of his work. One by one his monitors went dark. “I may not have saved the princess from her castle, but I get to celebrate with her now that she’s free, and I don’t care who knows it.” Hephaestus really didn’t care. He had survived much worse than hard words and gossip in his life. He also doubted that rumors about Freyra and him being a couple, or, more properly, Vadimas Lugosi and Janelle Delmar being a couple, would really make him feel all that bad. If Freyra felt differently, well, at least it hadn’t stopped her from spending time with him publicly before, and for that he was grateful.
The last monitor dimmed as that thought echoed in his mind. His gaze lingered on the darkened monitor for a moment before he turned to face Freyra.
“Shall we go?” he asked, trying to hide the anxiety in his voice. “I have my roadster in the garage.” He thought a moment. “Or we can take your car, if you’ve brought it.”
If she had any care or concern about such rumors, she didn't voice them. Instead, she chose to make her own video game joke. "It's better you didn't save the princess from her castle. She's never in the first one and where are you going to stash half a dozen mushroom headed men?"
Quickly, she finished her coffee and placed the mug aside to push away from the desk to smooth out her summer dress with little care that the calendar said it was winter. If these mild temperatures were what Miami called winter, then as a resident of DC and native the harsh North Lands, she was going to ignore their fashion suggestions for the season. "No, we need to take your car. I took a cab. I barely brought anything with me on this trip."
“Very well,” Hephaestus said, nodding. “We’ll take my private elevator. It may shield us from a few prying eyes.” He placed his palm on a section of the wall near his desk. A hidden door opened, revealing the interior of an elevator car.
“After you,” Hephaestus offered, with a slight bow.
Following Freyra into the elevator, Hephaestus pressed the button for the garage.
“You know,” he began slowly, “the mad scientist in me has a few ideas as to where, exactly, I could stash a half dozen sentient, sapient mushroom men.” The worst part was, he actually could see the merit in examining such a creature.
"They seem annoying... at least from the game I was playing when I went to Iraq for two weeks recently. Always shouting in their high-pitched voices. I would stash them in a sound proof room if needed." Freyra was sometimes amazed by how little war had changed through the centuries -- the weapons may have changed but the boredom between the battles certainly hadn't.
She smiled warmly, folding her arms behind her back as she swayed from heel to toe in her patient waiting for the elevator to come to their destination, "So what were you working on? Something classified? Unless speaking of it would ruin the favor of pulling you away from it."
Freyra’s question interrupted Hephaestus’ thoughts about examining the toadstool people. They wouldn’t have much time for talking...
“Never,” Hephaestus said, returning Freyra’s smile as he tried not to stare. “I love talking about my work.” He took a moment to run down a quick list of interesting projects. “With the U.S. scaling back NASA’s budget, it’s fallen on the independent contractor to pick up the slack. Right now, I have my guys working on lunar rovers, with an eye on sending them to Mars, as well.” It was still primitive compared to what Hephaestus could envision, but working with humanity was an endless series of baby steps.
“Perhaps more germane to your trip to Iraq,” Hephaestus continued, “we’ve been working on advanced body armors and personal coilguns. Lasers are great and all, but nothing will destroy the enemy and his fortifications faster than high mass payloads launched at higher velocities. I have a few concept models created, but dissipating waste heat is... still a problem.” Not for Hephaestus, but it was a pretty glaring flaw for others.
“My latest armor designs are a hybrid on existing or theoretical designs. I’ve licensed the Dragon Skin armor design and made my own enhancements. I’ve replaced the ceramic trauma discs with ones formed from carbon nanotubes. It’s like wearing a suit of armor made of diamond. To reduce traumatic blunt-force, I’ve also added a layer of shear-thickening fluid, known in the business as “pudding”. The harder it’s hit, the harder it becomes, forming a shell that disperses force around the soldier. Early tests have been very positive.” It wasn’t quite as good as Hephaestus’ own armor, but given the toys the humans called weapons, it was close enough.
“We’re also close to opening our Bastions of Futures in Technology. It’s my hope that these Big--”
*DING*
The elevator ding brought Hephaestus back down to earth. He looked to Freyra, fearing a glassy-eyed stare.
Contrary to his fears, however, her blue-green eyes were alert and focused, her warm smile having turned into a slight smirk. "Promise me you'll tell me a month in advance when you have enough headway with the personal coil guns that they might begin to find their way into the hands of combatants."
Hephaestus was gladdened to see that his little spiel hadn’t bored Freyra. He hadn’t exactly gone into exhaustive detail, but he realized he enjoyed things others found boring. Of course, he was probably letting Freyra’s glamorous looks play tricks on his mind.
Relax. Not all beautiful women are evil.
“I will,” he said, letting some of tension ease out of his body. “Though I doubt we’ll see them any time soon.” Humanity was barely ready for the gun. Hypervelocity death cannons would have to wait.
The elevator started buzzing, displeased that its occupants had not yet exited.
“That’s our cue,” Hephaestus said with mock annoyance. He held out his arm for Freyra to take. “Shall we?”
“I won’t lie, I’m glad you won’t have them any time soon,” Freyra replied, taking his arm while glancing at where the buzzing sound of the elevator had come from. It did actually sound displeased to her ears. “If you don’t develop them soon, then I don’t have to start working on defending against them soon.”
“The materials and techniques are already in development to defend buildings against them,” Hephaestus said, guiding Freyra the short distance to where his new 2010 Tesla Roadster was parked. Like his previous model, it was a rich, sports car red. And, like his previous model, Hephaestus had loaded the car with his own improvements. In fact, the whole reason he had bought a new roadster was to have fun tweaking and customizing it. “However, for the individual soldier on the ground, defense against a depleted uranium slug moving at mach eight is virtually nonexistent.” Nonexistent was also a good way to describe the unfortunate soldier’s remains after being struck by said coilgun round.
"My concern is less for the individual soldiers in that scenario," Freyra shrugged a little, unintentionally brushing her bare shoulder against his in the action, "If soldiers can't die on the field of battle, what's the point? It's not even war anymore but... a building? Now my pride's at stake if my name's attached...." Her words trailed off a little bit at the sight of the car with a continued smile, "So, you're one of those that buys a new car every year?"
“When the car in question is a marvel of human engineering,” Hephaestus said, chuckling softly, “you bet I am. But,” he paused as he drew alongside the passenger side of the car, “I guess I do just like being the guy with the best toys.” Without taking his arm away from Freyra, he pulled open the passenger side door, wordlessly inviting Freyra to take a seat.
Freyra sat down, taking only a moment to ensure her skirt was straight while doing so, "So, what's the plan? Eat then stay at one club to an ungodly hour or go club to club?"
Hephaestus frowned slightly as he closed the door after her. He honestly wished he had an opinion on this matter. Luckily, a sudden burst of inspiration saved him from standing around awkwardly silent as he tried to figure out which choice would be better.
“I don’t think we have to rush into any decisions,” Hephaestus said casually as he walked around his car to the driver’s side. The top was down on the convertible, allowing Freyra to actually hear him as he did so. “Why don’t we just find a place with a lot of good food and then see where the night takes us?” Ah, a noncommittal answer shrouded in spontaneity. Hephaestus was almost proud of himself as he sat in the driver’s seat.
"That's a good idea. No reason to be locked into a plan..." Freyra leaned back in her seat after buckling her seatbelt. She would not have her night interrupted by some police officer pulling them over to try to enforce the seatbelt law. "Being free from a rigid system is the point of the celebration. Let's just hope we don't hit traffic on our way. Convertibles shouldn't be in traffic."
Hephaestus smiled. Success!
“I agree,” Hephaestus said. Being inside the car, even with the roof down, magnified the effect of being close to beautiful goddess. He tamped down on rush of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. He was no longer the awkward godling that had proposed to Aphrodite. Also, he reminded himself sternly, he was still married.
“No one buys a convertible for the comfortable seats,” Hephaestus explained, even if the seats in the roadster were rather plush. “They buy it to feel the wind in their hair at high speeds.” Also, if they sat in traffic, the would swelter in the Fall heat of Miami. This was not a problem for Hephaestus, lord of fire and volcanoes, but he doubted his guest would find it as pleasant.
“And if milady wants the wind whipping through her dazzling hair,” Hephaestus complimented as he punched the roadster’s starter, “that is what milady will get.” The roadster’s electric engine lacked the powerful rumble of an internal combustion engine, and the car lacked a manual transmission for dramatic shifting. So, Hephaestus merely punched the accelerator. He was rewarded with the squeal of rubber on concrete before the roadster lunged powerfully out of the underground garage.
Summary: Janelle Delmar pops in unexpectedly on Vadimas Lugosi. Freyra’s happy to be free. Hephaestus is happy to see Freyra. They decide to express this happiness with tapas and dancing.