Kanesha had class the next day. I had a shoot which took most of the day, but I came away with not just a good paycheck but a dress I wouldn’t really be able to enjoy until next year.

 

That was one of the perks. Random gifts of clothing. As Kanesha was working late I was cooking myself lasagna in the apartment, with extra for her when she got in. And, fortunately, more extra for leftovers later.

 

The knock on the door sounded particularly urgent and slightly threatening. Enough that I used the peephole.

 

Oh.

 

It was Angrboda.

 

And a fire giant.
“Well, this isn’t exactly a normal combination,” I said on opening the door.

 

“She’s trying her best not to melt me,” Angrboda quipped.

 

“Good, I don’t want you melted. Or her frozen. What’s up?”

 

“You said you wanted somebody who could sneak into Surtur’s armory.”

 

I grinned. “I did. Thanks. You probably saved me a ton of time.”

 

“I can sneak in and steal something for you, sure. Or borrow?”

 

“Steal. I can’t promise I’ll return it.”

 

“Alright. I’ll make sure to grab something that won’t be missed. You plan on doing some experiments.”

 

I nodded. “I do.”

 

“Anything to stop Surtur from being crazier. If that’s possible.” She sighed and flopped into a chair. “There’s quite a few of us who are only not taking him out because…”

 

“Because none of you want the job and anyone who does would be worse.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

I glanced at the oven. “Lasagna will be ready in five minutes. Good thing I made plenty.”

 

Angrboda laughed. “I don’t want to take…”

 

“You’ll only be taking the extra I’m making for lunch later. Don’t worry about it.” Hospitality was important, after all. “I don’t have beer, though.”

 

“I’d have brought some, but…stupid Midgardian laws.” A pause. “Of course, you’re older than…”

 

“Don’t worry about it. I have root beer.”

 

And I tugged out three bottles of it. Surreptitiously warming one of them up for the fire giantess, of course.

 

Angrboda chilled hers more than the fridge before opening it. I grinned at her. “Good root beer,” I added.

 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less. So…”

 

“Give me a few days,” she said. “Oh, I’m Yngva.”

 

Yngva. Somehow I thought that name was important to remember. “Please don’t get caught.”

 

“I won’t,” she promised. “I have perfectly legitimate access and well, I might get into trouble for losing something, but it won’t be that much trouble.”

 

She seemed confident that she had enough…well…that she wouldn’t be arrested or fired. I’d have to take her word for it.

 

So, instead of saying anything more, I opened my bottle of root beer and took a swig.

 

It was, of course, decent root beer.