It's late. I should really get to bed, but the stars are so beautiful tonight, I just can't stop watching their endless dance around the south celestial pole. It's getting towards three in the morning now, and as I start to pack up my blanket, thermos of tea, and "star-gazer's guide to the southern night sky" I see a flash overhead. Something is plummeting right towards where I'm standing!

I hastily scramble for cover as whatever it is hits a couple of meters away from where I was just moments before. I'm curious by nature, so I cautiously make my way over to see what the thing was. 

As I reach its crash-site, I'm surprised to see a man lying on the ground. He's one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen, with shoulder-length black hair, high cheekbones and a long, delicate nose. He's wearing strange clothes; a black and green tunic-like garment with gold fastenings and a black thing I can only describe as a cape with a green lining.

With a start I realise his eyes are open and he's looking at me with a curious expression, as if I'm some new type of creature he's just discovered. Green. His eyes are green. A beautiful deep green like that light that filters through the many layers of leaves to penetrate the deep gullies where the forest creeks meander along their rocky paths.

"Hello," I say in the silence, "I'm (Y/N). Who are you?" I instantly I curse myself. The man looks taken aback, as if he isn't used to being addressed like this, but in some other manner. He's obviously not from around here, and I wonder if he even speaks English.

"I am Loki of Asgard," he says, recovering himself.  His voice is deep and smooth, and even thoughhe only speaks quietly, it carries through the still night air.

I can't believe I didn't recognise him from all the news reports. Now that I look more closely, I can see that he's definitely the same man who stood above the crowd in Germany, demanding their obedience. The same man who brought hordes of aliens to New York and destroyed half the city. A terrorist.

"Where am I?" Loki asks me suddenly.

"Australia." I say carefully, trying to keep the shakiness out of my voice.

"Where?"

"It's..." I swallow, then start again. "It's a country on Earth."

Loki closes his eyes momentarily and sighs as if he's annoyed, but relieved at the same time. "May I ask something of you?" he says suddenly.

"Uh... yes," I say, wondering what the hell he wants from me.

"Good," he says, nodding to himself. "May I seek lodging with you? Just for the time being, while I search for something I've lost."

What? He wants to stay with me? I can't let a terrorist – an extra-terrestrial terrorist – stay in my house. I should report him to the police or... or what? What are human police going to do against a god?

"Um, yeah." I say after a moment.

Loki nods, then tries to get up. He must have taken a pretty hard knock when he fell, because I can see that he's struggling. He frowns in annoyance, grunting as he sits up.

"Can I lend you a hand?" I ask, reaching down to help him stand.

He looks at me like I'm crazy, glancing from my hand to my face like he doesn't know what to do with either. After a moment more of trouble standing, he takes my hand and uses it to steady himself.

"My thanks," he says when I let go, but I catch him dusting his hand on his cape when I turn around. What a snob.

When we finally make it to my house, Loki puts his hand on the doorframe as I struggle with the big old iron keys to the door. I live in an old church out in the Victorian alpine shire country, Australia. Barely anyone comes out here to visit, and when they do, they're usually just tourists who think my church is just an abandoned church.

"You live in a Church?" Loki asks as we go inside.

"Yes," I say shortly.

Loki considers that piece of information, but before he can remark any more on my living preferences, we arrive at the little spare room that I usually use or storage.

"You can sleep here." I say to him. "I'll get the camp bed set up, but do you... need a shower or anything?" I cringe, realising how lame it sounds.

"No, thankyou."

"Um, ok then, I'll just..." I cross the room, pulling open a cupboard and dragging the folded bed out into the dim lighting. "Can you hit that switch beside the door?" I ask over my shoulder.

"This one?" Loki must have flicked it on, because with a little hum the globe in the centre of the ceiling comes to life, casting its weird glow over the whole room.

"Yeah, that's it." I unfold the camp bed, locking in the sides and going back to cupboard for a sleeping bag.

"Useful contraption," Loki remarks from the doorway, and I nod.

After a brief awkward silence, I ask; "do you want food or something?"

"No, thankyou."

I nod to him again, then brush past him on my way to the kitchen. He may not want anything, but I sure do.