"Look out for that Jag!" Cheryl shouted to her partner over the wailing of the sirens. Bracing

herself as Roberto - Rob to everyone - yanked the wheel and whipped around the tiny car with the

middle aged man behind the wheel.

Rob yanked himself back over into the lane they had been in just before hitting a station wagon

full of kids. "Why don't they ever pull over for us?"

"This is LA!" Pushing a strand of blue-black hair out of her brown eyes, Cheryl called out

another warning. Again she had to brace herself. "What do you expect?"

"A little respect and a lot less news helicopters would be nice!" Rob swerved to miss a SUV.

Then turned as the beat up truck they had been chasing for the past five miles decided to.

"He's stopping!" The young African-American woman said. Already she was unbuckled and

ready to jump out even as Rob hit the breaks. In one fluid movement she was out of the car and

her gun cleared the holster. "Freeze!"

The young man - boy - who had gotten out of the truck decided not to. Instead he began to run.

Cheryl with Rob not far behind her took off after him. The female officer jumped over a large dog

that suddenly decided to block her way while Rob tripped over him. She darted in and out

between people that tried to block her way, keeping an eye on the retreating blond head.

Just when it seemed Cheryl was going to lose the kid, some old woman decided to stick out her

cane and trip him. The officer pounced as the grandmother cackled. "That'll teach you to have

some respect, boy!" The woman said.

Cheryl grinned at the woman. "Thanks for the help, ma'am." The boy by now was handcuffed

and relived of his knife.

The woman laughed again and patted Cheryl's cheek. For a moment Cheryl felt like a fire passed

thru her. Then the woman turned and began to walk away.

Rob came up panting. "What a day. What's wrong with you? You look like you saw a ghost?"

"No -" Cheryl said, "just felt one..."

"So," Rob said, running a hand thru his own sweat filled brown hair, "how'd your date go last

night?"

Wrinkling her nose, Cheryl sighed. "No so good. Don't get me wrong, Julie is a great girl, I

want to see her again, just that mom walked in and went thru the roof."

"Yeah, well, what do you expect? You changed your name and now this. If I did anything like

that my mother would have my hide." Roberto rolled his eyes. "She loves to claim that we're

descended from great Aztec warriors. I asked her what warrior was ever named Roberto and she

threatened to disown me."

Laughing, Cheryl bent back over her paper work. "Okay, the world's going insane. This is the

fifth high-speed car chase this month. The department's being investigated for corruption. What

next?"

"Psychic reptile mutants from the planet Lizard-land?" Rob offered helpfully.

The glare Cheryl gave him could peel wallpaper. Rob shrugged and went back to his own paper

work.

Meanwhile the boy they had caught cowered in the corner of the holding cell. "I'm sorry, my

Lord, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get caught. Honest." He cringed from something his cell

mates couldn't see. They ignored him, assuming he was crazy. Until the boy flew thru the air.

Then everyone backed away from him, yelling for an officer.

The boy kept getting banged against the bars by some unseen force. Even the police who ran in

couldn't believe their eyes. Finally they ran in and tried to grab him, only to find themselves

pushed away violently.

Cheryl and Rob had heard immediately that something was wrong with their car-jacker. Both

skidded to a stop. Then dived into the cell. Cheryl grasped the boy by the legs and yanked him

down to the ground. Rob pinned him. Something akin to electricity seem to run thru Cheryl,

making her sick to her stomach. Still, they held the boy down until it seemed his "fit" was over.

He was alive, but badly beaten up. Muttering something. Rob leaned down and listened to him.

"What he say?" Cheryl asked.

"Forgive me Lord Loki..."

Some called him Loki, the Norse God of Mischief. Others called him a demon. It really didn't

matter to him what he was called. So long as people paid attention to him. It had taken him awhile

to get out of his prison under the mountain. The first thing he did was kill that bloody snake and

rip out it's venom sacs. The next thing was to bury his wife.

All the other gods and goddesses were dead. Why had he lived when they died? Did it really

matter?

No, it didn't. That just meant more mortals for him to play with. Or so he had thought at first. It

seemed that Odin and company hadn't been the only gods in the world. There were others. Many,

many others. That Zeus fellow for one. Though those gods seemed content with the fact humans

no longer worshiped them. Instead most had turned to just One God.

Of course Loki had tried to get in with these other Gods. Even tried that Lucifer guy. But they

all ignored him. Told him he was insignificant. After all, the Norse gods hadn't been immortal. So

they weren't really gods - now were they?

Which brought him back to why he was still alive.

Again, Loki dismissed it as being unimportant. The point was he was alive and he was bored.

Unable to grasp the power of the other gods, Loki was left to two choices - rule an empty Asgard

or play with humans. No contest there. Play with the humans. At least they could provide him

with some amusement.

Only now he wasn't amused. One of his toys had been caught. Loki's response was to try and

break his toy before it could talk. Something - stopped him. One second his magic had been going

strong, beating the toy. The next Loki felt an electric jolt run thru him, breaking the spell. The

toy was still alive and Loki was, logically, in a really bad mood.

Finally, after much brooding, Loki turned to his other toys and roared, "Find out what happened.

And try to kill him!"

The beeps and sighs of the hospital machines filled the room. Cheryl frowned at the young man

laying in the bed. A half hour ago he had slipped into a coma.

His words puzzled her. Why would anyone mention the mythical Norse god of mischief?

Soft, shuffling footsteps behind her made Cheryl spin around. It was that old woman again.

What was she doing here?

This time Cheryl studied her harder. At one time Cheryl would've guessed this woman was very

beautiful. Fair skin, blue eyes, the white hair was long and thick, braided down either side of her

head. Now she was one of those old people who just looked - cute. Like a little wrinkled doll.

"The spell on him is a powerful one," the woman said, "and a familiar one. It will take a strong

warrior to take the caster down." With that she grabbed Cheryl's hand. There was that feeling

again, only stronger. Cheryl let out a small cry as unfamiliar energy filled her. Then there was

blackness...

Cheryl woke alone in the room. Shaking her head. What an odd dream. "I'm not going to solve

anything sitting here sleeping."

As Cheryl went to exit the room an orderly entered. Something about him made the hairs on the

back of her neck raise. She left, but then peeked around carefully. Just watching. At first it

seemed the orderly was just doing orderly things. Until he brought out a pillow and pressed it to

the young man's face.

"LAPD! Freeze!" Cheryl said, her gun clear of her holster already. The phony orderly let go of

the pillow and snarled. His hand came up and the gun was ripped from Cheryl's hands.

"You think my Lord would send me unprepared for the likes of you?" Now the gun was in his

hand and he began to pull the trigger.

Instinct took over. Cheryl raised her hands, palms forward, and cried out a word that she didn't

even know the meaning of, honestly. A blue-green shield raised before her and caught the bullet.

For a moment she just stared in shock at what she had done. Then she shoved her hands forward,

causing the shield to fly from her. It caught the "orderly" and sent him crashing into the wall. The

gun dropping from his hand. Cheryl dashed across the room and snatched up her gun.

The "orderly" charged Cheryl while she was distracted, knocking her off her feet. The officer

had the breath knocked from her. She was yanked up by her hair, but then her legs closed like a

pair of scissors, knocking the "orderly" down. She rolled over, her legs still around his ankles,

flipping him over. With a pounce she had him restrained. She slapped the handcuffs on.

"How the heck am I going to explain this?" She muttered to herself.

"So what really happened?" Rob asked as he decided which end of his chilli dog to bite into first.

Cheryl looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "I told you what really happened. Those things are

going to kill you."

"So's being a cop," the officer said with a smirk, "but that doesn't stop me from putting myself

out there."

Rolling her eyes, Cheryl dug into her salad. She had dodged the question for now, but Roberto

was relentless. The lucky break for her was when their radios announced a robbery down town.

Jumping up, they left the food behind, throwing some money on the table.

All Hades had broken loose downtown. LAPD officers were everywhere. Riot gear had been

broken out. Cheryl and Roberto geared up and knelt behind a car as they were briefed. It had

started as a daring daylight bank robbery. But then someone fired a shot and the next thing that

happened is gunfire began to be exchanged by both sides.

"For Lord Loki!" One of the robbers cried, the others following suit. They hefted their guns to

the sky and began to fire again.

"That again?" Rob's eyes narrowed. Then widened as an old woman began to walk right into the

middle of the fire fight. "Someone get her out of there!"

Without a second thought, Cheryl stood and used the bumper of the car to launch her over the

others. Still, she shouldn't have been able to get so much height, yet she did. She fell and rolled,

the riot gear cushing her fall. Then in a feat of agility most could not believe, Cheryl jumped to

her feet right in front of the old woman.

"You again?" The officer gasped in disbelief. Even as she moved to shield the woman from the

flying bullets. It was that same woman - how did she end up wherever Cheryl was?

"You know what to do, child, don't let the mortals around you stop you." The woman said in a

horse whisper.

"I don't know what you mean," Cheryl snapped even as she got the woman out of the way. Yet

- something tingled in the back of her mind. She watched as one of the officers fell as a bullet

ripped thru his riot gear. Cop killers. The cretins had cop killing bullets! With a snarl Cheryl

turned. Blue-green light shooting forth from her hands. The would-be robbers fell back, their guns

ripped from their hands.

Cheryl blinked, standing there as Roberto ran to her side. "What was..." he was starting to ask

when a strange blackish light surrounded them.

"How DARE you interfere with my fun!" A voice howled even as the world around them faded

from sight...

"Pitiful mortals," Loki snarled down at the two officers and the old woman at his feet. "Why

must you ruin my fun? Why?"

"Fun?" Rob said, snarling at the Norse god, totally ignoring the fact they had been teleported

here. "You call risking people's lives fun?!"

"It's better then watching tv." Loki said with a shrug. Then he motioned his hand and a gang of

men and women stepped forward. "Kill them."

As they attempted to surge forward, a yellowish-red shield stopped them. Cheryl glanced to

Roberto and her mouth dropped open in shock.

"I told you," Rob said with a grin, "I'm a descendant of some great Aztec warriors - and some

of them were gods." The light came from his hands, forming the shield.

Without being urged to, Cheryl lifted her own hands and added her own light to it. They forced

the god-controlled humans back. "So where my powers come from? I'm descended from anything

but gods."

"Just shut up and let's kick some bad guy butt!" The old woman said in a much younger voice

then before. She stepped forward now and almost shocked Cheryl and Rob so much that they

almost dropped their shield. For she had went from a craggy old woman to a stunning beauty.

Blond hair, a figure to kill for.

Loki snarled. "Freya. I thought all our kind were dead."

"Wow," Roberto said breathlessly, "maybe we really are dealing with gods..."

"You're making a shield form with magik and you didn't believe we were dealing with gods?!"

Cheryl shook her head. "We're not comic book super heros, we can believe our own eyes."

"Yeah - well... Oh heck - Hey Loki!" Roberto shouted out, "how's this for fun?!" With that a

lancing energy beam lept forth and struck the god on the side of his head. Loki cried out in pain

and lost his concentration. The humans he had been controlling fell to the floor in a deep sleep.

"All the gods died, except for you and me," Freya said. "I don't know why, but I'm not letting

you mess with humans for your entertainment, Loki."

With a snarl, the injured Loki stood. He was fully armored, but so was Freya. Their swords

clashed together. They screamed and raged as Cheryl and Roberto looked on in wonder. Sparks

flew from their swords. At first it seemed Freya might win, but she was the Norse goddess of love

and beauty, not fighting and though she had been trained to fight, she wasn't suppose to kill. Loki

slipped under her guard, piercing thru her side. She fell back with a cry. "Cheryl!" She shouted,

throwing her sword to the young officer.

Cheryl caught it in mid-air and a surge of power ran thru her. Looking down at herself she

realized that she was dressed in the matter of her ancestors from Africa. Yet her sword was still

obviously of Viking design. "Maybe I'm wrong," she thought to herself, "maybe we are comic

book characters!"

Loki was rushing her now. So there was no time to think of what sick person was running

Cheryl's life at the moment. Instead she acted on instinct and began to fight with him. The swords

cutting thru the air. Every move she made was parried perfectly by the mischievous god. Yet still

she pressed on. Power flowed from her veins into the sword.

The mortal god landed a few cuts on Cheryl, but the injuries just made her press harder. She

went berserk. Roaring like a lioness, she pressed forward. With a slash she ripped the sword from

Loki's hands and drove her own deep into his gut. The mortal god roared and fell back, dead.

"Cheryl," Freya called weakly, summoning the officer to her side, "your blood line is more

powerful then you think. Remember that." With a sigh, Freya, the last living Norse god, died.

Sitting back on her heels, Cheryl looked at her partner shook her head. "I hope you have an idea

what we'll write in our report, cause I sure don't."

Roberto just sighed and muttered, "I bet my ancestors never had to fill out reports..."

The End?