"So, you'd be the Thor to my Jane."

"I have no idea what you speak of," Agatha chugs down half a glass of wine, and Bruce is half expecting her to throw it to the floor and shout 'another!', but she just stares at him instead, "You are strange."

"I'm strange?" He laughs, loud enough that the couple a few tables over send him a dirty look, "That's good. I like strange."

Agatha shakes her head, shoving a few mouthfuls of creamy pesto pasta into her mouth. She eats like it's her last meal, like maybe she'll die in the next thirty minutes. It's refreshing. No more picking at a salad and avoiding the croutons like the plague. Bruce likes a woman who eats like a _human_, not a Barbie doll.

If he wanted to love a doll, he'd order one online.

"You should eat, Bruce of California. Fuel up for the night to come." She finishes the rest of her wine. He refills her glass, unable to hide his smile.

"And what, pray tell, is going to happen tonight Agatha of Norvalaha?"

"In my Realm, in my home," She swallows a chunk of red meat she ordered as well as her pasta. Her grey eyes are distant, haunted like an empty house, "the night was always filled with... shadows."

Bruce refrains from making a shadow puppet with the warm, dim overhead light hanging above them. Might come across as rude. So instead, he leans forward and whispers so the nosy couple behind Agatha won't hear,

"What did the shadows do?"

"They haunted us, my people. For sport, for food, for the light we shine. We don't know why. All we know is you kill, or you are killed. Life is simple. Die or live, nothing else matters."

Bruce sits back in his chair, letting out a long breath. He use to sleep with a nightlight, this feels like that but with the intensity turned up to a thousand.

"So this is what happens in the sixth Realm? In Norvalaha?"

Agatha nods, her long blond hair swaying with the movement. Her clothes are an array of Missmatched pelts, leathers and protective metals. Bruce feels decidedly undressed in his black slacks and powder blue button up.

He should've worn a fuzzy hat to make her feel more at home.

"And you still think the shadows are hunting you, here in Realm..."

"Realm four." She supplies easily, cleaning off her stake plate with a few quick licks. "No, I don't think so. Earth belongs to the most peaceful and prosperous Realm. You are lucky, Bruce of California."

Bruce thinks of nature, of the ocean, of the wild lands spread throughout Earth and nods, "Yeah, we have it pretty good here. But we still have racists and pretend children's beauty pageants aren't creepy."

"Racists?" Agatha tilts her head, like the cutest dog Bruce as ever seen. He has four adopted dogs because he can't resist a quality head tilt. "What is a racist?"

Bruce laughs again, head thrown back. The angry couple _and_ the nosy couple look up at them now. Even a few waiters join the viewing party. He pays them no mind, just throws a wad of cash on the table and stands,

"Racist people don't tend to like me very much." He smiles, all canines and sharp charm, "as a black man, I'm usually public enemy number one."

Agatha stands as well, an angry pout twisting her pretty face. She finishes his half empty wine glass, takes a bite of his salmon, and asks with a fire in her eyes,

"Why? What is there not to like about you, Bruce of California?"

"My skin is a little too dark for them." He explains simply, slowly walking towards the exit. The waiters have already begun cleaning their table.

Agatha's pout morphs into anger. She flares her nostrils like a bull preparing to shish kebab a bullfighter. Before Bruce can stop her, she's stepping onto a chair.

He watches in wonder and distant horror as she addresses the whole restaurant, her voice booming like a war General addressing soldiers,

"I am a warrior of Norvalaha and I will fight all the racists of planet earth. I challenge all racists to duel me. We fight to the death, because we fight for love and justice."

She scans the room, waiting for a racist to pop up and be like 'yeah I'll duel you, wolf woman.' Bruce gently tugs her hand, silently urging her to step down. His cheeks hurt he's smiling so hard.

"And I will also fight child beauty pageants. I will _annihilate_ them."

Bruce laughs out loud now, bodily pulling her off the chair. Everyone in the restaurant is silent. She goes easily, following him into the warm night. Agatha eyes every shadow like it might jump out and snag her throat.

He takes her hand, gripping it tight. If Agatha will protect him from racists and children's Beauty contests, then he'll protect her from the shadows.

"Come on, Thor, let's get you home."

She doesn't ask about the nickname, she just grips his hand tighter as they walk Venice beach. The soothing sound of ocean waves follows them all the way back to his place.

Agatha waits outside until he's turned on all of the lights. It smells like sage and clean dog when they step inside.

The dogs love her, sniffing and licking and she greets them like they're human. She asks them for their names and nods at the whining and barking like she understands... maybe she does. That would be cool.

Bruce rolls up his sleeves and watches her from the kitchen counter, a warmth blossoming in his chest.

He's beyond lucky Agatha used an Ancient spell to open a portal to Earth from Norvalaha in search of a weapon that could destroy the Shadow Demons...

Best Tuesday ever.

She turns to him with a smile, easy, calm and pretty. He wants to make her smile like that forever. A heaviness seeps into the warmth in his heart, a dread. She'll have to go back to Norvalaha. She has to help her people.

Bruce had never been the guy to hold someone back, even if it means losing them. He silently rummages through his sink cabinet until he finds it - A flashlight.

He hands it to her, showing her the on switch. She wields it like a sword, a fine mist clinging to her eyes. She found what she was looking for. A weapon that could easily destroy shadows.

Funny how common that is in Realm four.

"Thank you, Bruce." She whispers, pressing the light beam into her chest. It makes the skin of her chest glow, like a star. "My people will be safe, now."

"Yeah, we can hit up HomeDepot and get a bunch of them." He laughs, and it's not as real as he'd like it to be. Beggars can't be choosers.

Agatha stares at him for a long while, quietly assessing him. He stands still, watching her back. Marco, Pollo, Häagen, and Dazs have stopped love-bombing Agatha and have laid back down.

It's just them two, staring at each other, and finding nothing to run away from.

Agatha steps forward once, twice, three times until she's right in his personal bubble. Her lips are slightly red from the wine.

She presses the light into his chest, his dark skin not glowing at all. Agatha smiles at that, then back up at him, "I like you, Bruce."

"I like you too, Agatha." He whispers, scared to shatter such a delicate moment with his full voice.

Agatha presses her forehead to his, standing on her tiptoes. Bruce closes his eyes. Marco whines, Häagen gets up to drink water. The house is light up like a Christmas tree, the brightest house on the street.

"I will return, and I will stay with you." She declares simply.

Bruce laughs, breathy and beyond hope, "Ok, yeah. Come on down to sugar town."

She pulls back a bit, "Sugar town?"

"I don't know what I'm saying half the time."

And then he kisses her, softly and gently. Pollo makes a low 'ruff' at Agatha's delighted gasp. She drops the flashlight in favor of putting her hands on his shoulders.

They kiss like that, softly and gently, until the sun rises. They take the dogs for a walk to HomeDepot, and everybody gives them weird looks for buying half the supplies of flashlights.

He just says, "Shadows Demons, what can ya' do, right?"

No one laughs, but Agatha looks happy and that's all that matters right now. Plus Dazs peed in the paint section and they've gotta' get the hell outta' dodge before someone connect the dots.