Don’t Feed Alligators Cheese Enchiladas

You were bundled up in a thick coat with ear muffs on your head; it wasn't snowing yet, but it was cold enough that the snow predicted for the following days would stick, and probably make a thick blanket on the ground. 

You faintly wondered if Hermes had ever made snow angels…

“Ready?” he asked at the front door of your apartment building; he was wearing a wide-brimmed hat instead of his usual helmet, and it cast a shadow over his eyes in lieu of his sunglasses. He also had a warm-looking red cloak, apparently lined with fur or some other fluff over a thin shirt that you couldn't quite see. He probably didn't need the cloak, he never seemed to feel cold, but it was important to keep up appearances when visiting public places. 

So you were going somewhere that would have other people. 

You huffed, checking the strap of the bag you carried to make sure it was close to your chest - he could still easily steal your wallet and phone, but it was a little harder when he couldn't just reach into your pockets. One of these days, you might just cave and buy the weird chest-strap bag that kept all your valuables up high and theoretically safe from nefarious hands. See if he could break into that…

Belongings secure, coat and muffs adjusted, you nodded and his face lit with a grin as he effortlessly lifted you into his arms. You could barely see the glow of his eyes under the shadow of the hat - the longer you dated Hermes, the more you learned to look closer for the little things. Right now, he was excited; more childlike joy than gleeful mischief, which was even more exciting for you. As much as you enjoyed his pranks and silliness, it was rare that he had this much anticipation for something. 

He was usually all soft smiles and warmth, but this was bright like a star. 

You tucked your face into Hermes' chest, knowing he was going to fly directly to wherever he was taking you. There would be no sight-seeing on this trip; another mystery to confuse you about potential locations. He pressed a gentle kiss into your hair before taking off, the wind quickly whipping around the pair of you as he sped towards your destination. 

It was still bright out - the sun wouldn't set for another hour or two, and the light and wind surrounded you for a few moments before you felt Hermes slow and finally land. At least this time he hadn't gone high enough to make your ears pop. 

You waited for his arms to loosen, looking up at him after a few moments. 

“Put me down?” You asked, teasingly. He shrugged. 

“Nah. It's pretty cold, it's nice to have a personal heater.” He replied. He only laughed when you lightly slapped his chest with the back of your hand, and finally released you. 

“How does your hat not fly off?” You asked, noticing the tips of his hair under the brim were ruffled, but the hat itself remained secure. He shrugged again. 

“God magic?” he theorized, jokingly. That was his answer to a lot of questions about his anomalies, and you knew better than to press. You rolled your eyes and huffed, crossing your arms. 

“Ok, fine,” you gestured for him to lead, “where exactly are we?” He took your hand and began to walk across a rather large expanse of grass, passing a little gravel parking lot full of cars, and you could see some farm buildings in the distance. 

“We’re gonna meet some friends!” the wide smile returned, as if his statement wouldn't raise more questions, but you just chuckled and followed. You were definitely on some kind of farm-store property; a place that probably did apple picking or a pumpkin patch in the fall. Right now, though, all of the trees were bare, the grassy field yellowish from winter frost, and the rows of dirt in the distance empty as the plants that grew there waited for spring. 

The pair of you walked up to a little gate, where an older man was sitting with a little cash box. The man smiled as you approached. 

“Well, how can I help you two?” he asked, a bit of a ‘country lilt’ to his words. You expected Hermes to wave a hand and work his ‘god magic’ on the man so he allowed you to pass, but instead your godly boyfriend handed over a real, American ten-dollar bill and responded “Two please.” 

You tried not to look at Hermes in shock and confusion; he ‘paid’ for a lot of your dates, but not usually with actual money. You faintly wondered if he was starting to understand the difference between stealing from corporations and small businesses; a subject of many debates and discussions throughout your time together. You were impressed. 

The man took the bill and traded it into his cash box for two bright green silicone bracelets, and began to fish out some change before Hermes held up a hand and told the man to keep the change. 

The god handed you a bracelet and led you around the gate as the man wished you both to have fun. After it appeared Hermes was not going to say anything about it, you tugged on his hand, causing him to stop. 

“Who are you and where is my boyfriend?” You asked, only half-jokingly. Maybe even less than half. 

He bounced on the balls of his feet; damn he was really excited. “I learn things when we talk! I'm supporting some local farmers!” He defended with a grin. “I’m not only a Patron of thieves, you know.” 

With that response apparently being all he planned to say, he began to walk again, taking your hand, and by extension, you, with him. The pair of you were walking around the main building which you were now certain was some kind of store, and as you turned the corner you could hear the excited jabbering of children. 

What the heck.

‘Meeting friends,’ he said. You were on a farm. There were little kids. You looked at the bracelet now on your wrist which read ‘Friendly Fields Local Craftworks and Petting Zoo’ in thin yellow letters. 

Well, this was certainly the most unique date he'd ever taken you on. 

In the rapidly diminishing distance, you saw a series of low fences housing several animals, and about a dozen children with parents in varying stages of exasperation. Most of the little ones were crowded around a hutch of extremely fluffy rabbits, but there was also a pen with mini ponies, one with two alpacas, one with a cow, one filled with chickens, and one with a small handful of sheep. You were pleased to notice that all of the pens had little heaters for the animals, and were sheltered in case it rained. 

You had to admit, this was kinda cute. 

Hermes continued to lead, heading straight for the sheep who ‘baah’d at him as you both came near. This one was the farthest off, and it seemed none of the children were very interested in visiting the sheep. 

“Hello, lovely ladies,” Hermes said as he leaned down and began to scratch one under its chin. You were a bit surprised; normally petting zoo animals were pretty apathetic towards their visitors, unless there was food involved. But all four of the wooly sheep had wandered over and were waiting for Hermes' attention. 

“So you're the god of sheep.” You said, a wry smile on your face as you watched him pet one animal with each hand. 

“Ha! You're close,” he replied, “I’m the god of shepherds. But sheep are one of my animals.” He paused, realizing you hadn't joined in, and stood back up to look at you. “Is this ok? You like petting things…” he asked, and now his face was hesitant.

You did like petting things. You constantly tried to pet the stray cats around your apartment complex, and the second someone offered for you to pet their dog you were all over those good boys and girls. You had even been to petting zoos before! Sheep were one of your favorite animals (although now you were absolutely not going to tell Hermes that). You felt your cheeks get hot, and it wasn't from wind burn. 

“Well, you looked like you were pretty excited to see them, and I didn't want to get in your way…” you said lamely. In truth, you just thought watching Hermes talk to a small herd of sheep was adorable, and had forgotten you were also supposed to be interacting with the animals. 

Hermes smirked, and pulled you a little closer, holding out a hand to the sheep closest to him, “here, just let her sniff you first. They'll probably feel a lot safer than normally because I'm here.” 

You followed his lead, surprised when the sheep forewent sniffing your hand and plopped her little chin in your palm. You could almost believe she was smiling at you. A surprised giggle bubbled out of you; no animal had ever done that. 

Seeing that there were now enough hands for all four to get pets at the same time, the whole little herd came up to the fence to vie for attention. It was strange and a little wonderful; their wool was thick and dense and incredibly warm, once you pushed your fingertips into the fleece. Hermes was saying something to the two in front of him, but you were only barely aware of that as you watched the little sheeps’ tiny, nubby tails wagging and twitching. 

He was probably giving them a blessing, the big softie; to be warm and live long and always have the tastiest grass. 

You had no idea how long the two of you had stood there, spoiling the little sheep with your scritches; thankfully the sun hadn't set yet, but it was a little darker. Hermes led you around to the other pens, now significantly quieter as several of the families and children left for the evening. There were still a good number of people around, but not so rowdy. One of the alpacas was interested in the pair of you, though not nearly as much as the sheep. The horses looked at you like you were some kind of aliens; as if you were the ones in the pens for their entertainment. Hermes avoided the cow, saying she was giving him a dirty look. 

You knew he had a history with cows but you didn't think it went that deep…

The chickens were also quick to look for Hermes' attention, running over to the fence posts to investigate. They formed a wide clump of feathers, and would have been centered around him if there hadn't been a barrier in the way. As it were, several chickens were reaching their heads through the fencing, clucking and (apparently) trying to peck at the god. You giggled. Hermes looked around a moment, that mischievous smile on his face, and you saw him pull his hat down in the back just far enough to free the wings behind his ears, which flapped a few times at the chickens in return. 

The chickens went wild, some of them darting away, some of them flapping their wings back, some almost screeching; to the point that one of the farmhands came over to make sure they weren't fighting, and Hermes had to quickly slip his hat back in place. 

You'd never pet a chicken before; and the farm hand was kind enough to let you and Hermes each hold one. They were warm, surprisingly heavy, and you were taken aback when you realized the bird was purring. Not as deep and consistent as a cat’s purr, but still noticeable; the vibrations just barely palpable in your hands. Hermes' face was practically glowing in the low light, looking at you holding the chicken. After a little more cuddling of the soft feathers, and watching Hermes (probably) whispering a blessing to the other birds as well, the farmhand helped you place the chicken back in her coop, and Hermes led you to the last pen; the bunnies.

Angora rabbits, to be specific, with their carefully brushed fur and softly padded pen. A visitor could see clearly that these were the prized animals for the farm. And they certainly were cute; well-socialized and hopping over to see the newcomers, hoping for treats, clearly relaxed while being handled by the humans. 

You opted not to hold a rabbit, but you did get to pet a few of them as they wandered from person to person - their fur was as silky-soft as you imagined; always hearing about angora wool being special and extra soft (and probably extra expensive) but never going out of your way to find clothes made with it. 

The sun was finally setting in earnest, and the farmhands were beginning to pack up the petting area and move the animals back into their warm barns and hutches; the little country store was still open though, and it only took a little bit of begging to convince Hermes to go inside and look around. 

He’d already been planning on going in, but you were cute when you made your sad-eyes and exaggerated pout. 

Inside, the shop was warm and smelled like fresh cinnamon and vanilla. There were a few people milling around, looking at the different products - lots of fresh baked goods, homemade preserves, craft items, and even a cubby of milled goat milk soap. There was also a large sign on the counter that read “Chelly is OUT” in large red letters, and you assumed the tile that read OUT could be flipped to say something like IN as well. 

You wondered if you'd get a peek at Chelly. You did love shops that had kitties wandering around. 

Hermes unpinned his cloak so it hung at his shoulders instead of clipped at his throat, and you loosened your coat as well; the shop was nice and warm, and you were getting a little too warm under so many layers. 

Hermes was definitely just showing off his shirt - a meme shirt, because of course he'd been collecting those recently... 

You took your time looking at different things, eventually Hermes handed you a little shopping basket with a knowing grin, and you blushed again as you carefully placed a bottle of lavender oil for baking and a pack of flaky, delicious looking chocolate pastries into the basket. You were a bit surprised when Hermes actually added some things to the basket - namely two little crochet sheep that had a tag reading [80% angora, 20% wool] and a crochet chicken that apparently had a squeaker in its body. 

Oh gods. That was going to drive his siblings insane. 

And then suddenly, Hermes yelped and jumped, floating just a second too long before landing and looking down at the floor. 

Looking at a little tortoise riding around on a skateboard-like contraption.

The yelp had attracted the attention of the woman running the counter, but Hermes was unbothered; consumed with the sheer delight upon seeing the little reptile appear from under the shelves. 

“Oh, I'm so sorry!” the woman said frantically, “she's perfectly healthy, I promise, she just gets a little feisty when it's close to closing time, because she knows once the customers leave she gets a strawberry. She didn't bite you, did she?”

Meanwhile, Hermes had become a metaphorical kid in a candy store, sitting down right on the floor and cooing at the tortoise. He waved the woman off, saying, “She's so cute! So fast!” And then addressing the turtle, a mess of babbling that included “Look at your little wheels!” 

You'd seen many moods from your godly boyfriend. You'd seen him happy, frustrated, confused, annoyed (usually by your car and your coworkers). You'd seen him drunk and giggly, when he had twirled you around until you both threw up. You'd seen him cry, though rarely; he rarely felt safe to do so. You'd even seen him divinely angry once when a nymph at one of Dio's parties asked why a mortal like you were allowed to attend. 

You had not seen him like this. This was newborn-baby-cute-aggression levels of babbling. He gently scratched around the tortoise’s shell, watching the reptile wiggle when he apparently hit a good spot. (It was admittedly adorable.) You were pretty sure you could see his wings ruffling under his hat. 

Thankfully, the woman was pleased with Hermes' excitement. “Oh, yes. Poor Chelly was hatched without her back legs working. My son made the little wheel board for her. She has one that only has wheels on the back, but she seems to prefer the ability to race around.” 

Ah. Chelly was the tortoise.

“It's brilliant!” Hermes' replied, and then after a moment of hesitation, he surprised you again. “Can I pick her up?” He asked, almost bashful. 

The woman only laughed. “Sure, if she'll let you! Just be careful, she likes to give love bites.” She patted the reptile’s shell gently and asked if you needed any help before returning to the counter to attend another customer. 

Your boyfriend was still sitting on the floor. 

Not knowing what else to do, you joined him on the floor. 

He gently wiggled his fingers in front of Chelly, and when she didn't reach out and bite, he carefully scooped her off of her skateboard and held her right up to his face. 

“Helloooo, Darling! You like to go fast, huh? Go Zoomies? You're such a pretty girl!” He was almost blushing, and for the second time you wondered what clone had spontaneously replaced the man you were dating. Meanwhile, the tortoise was content to extend her neck and brush his nose with her face. Her front legs wiggled as if she was still walking or possibly swimming, and he continued to talk to her. 

The longer you sat there, the more you wondered if they could understand each other. 

With a sigh, you gave Hermes a kiss on his cheek, told him you were going to look some more, and left to explore the other shelves. (You may or may not have snapped several dozen photos of him cooing at Chelly in the meantime.)

He sat there with the tortoise a full ten minutes; meanwhile you found your own mischievous gift. You had paid quietly and hidden the item at the bottom of your purse, under the ‘valuables’ and wrapped in a brown paper bag. That was for later. 

When he finally rejoined you, you playfully bumped him with your elbow as he took some offered hand sanitizer from the counter to clean his hands.  He paid for the rest of the items in your basket, once again with real money, and you knew better than to question it at this point. The pair of you rebuttoned your extra layers and prepared to go out into the night. 

“So, are you replacing me?” you asked. He smiled, nuzzling your cheek with a little huff. 

“Nobody could replace you.” He replied softly, and your face suddenly felt a little warmer. He easily picked you up once more, having put your purchases into his trusty messenger bag, and with little warning he took off. 

This time, he did fly a little higher, just so you could see the stars on the way home. The cold wind bit your nose and you would probably have chapped cheeks in the morning, but it was worth it. 

He landed easily outside your apartment building, fishing the brown paper bag out of his pack. He would have to be back on Olympus tomorrow morning, and was leaving tonight to have time to leave a trap for Apollo. You barely had a moment before he pulled you into a kiss, then twirling you around and dipping you backwards, throwing off your balance. At least he kept you from falling, even if it was an almost cartoonish dip. He was probably floating to have you so far back. 

“So,” he panted lightly, his breath making little bursts of fog in the night air, “did you have fun?” You laughed, patting his shoulders as a request to stand back up. His face was positively glowing as he helped you right yourself. 

Yes, he had been floating, damn god powers…

You laughed anyway; “Yes. More fun than I have in a while.” You said, and it was the truth. Hermes' silly side was your favorite thing about him, and you had gotten to see so much of it tonight. His smile was brilliant once more, and under the shadow of his hat you saw his eyes start to glow silvery. 

“I love you.” he said, and kissed you again. “I'll be back in two days. I'll pick you up from work.” 

“Okay. Don't be too mean to Apollo, okay?” You teased. He rolled his eyes, and began to break away, before you grabbed the strap of his messenger bag and stuffed your own small gift inside, feeling it disappear into the organized clutter of the bottomless bag. He quirked an eyebrow in question. 

“Don't open it until you get back to Olympus. Promise?” You asked, and held up your pinky finger. 

He snorted. “Sure. Promise.” He linked his pinky with yours, and you shook. Truly a sacred oath. One last stolen kiss, and then he was gone, zipping away into the night sky. You hugged the bag from the store to your chest, and went inside to your (thankfully warm) apartment. 

The treats went into the kitchen, to be enjoyed for breakfast tomorrow. You were already scrolling your phone for that lavender shortbread cookie recipe you'd seen a week ago and thinking you would have to go to the store tomorrow after work anyway. The little sheep plushies (you now noticed one was a ram and one was an ewe. Dork.) went onto your shelf of ‘Hermes Trinkets’ for now, though you knew you would probably move them to your bed for cuddling soon. Damn those things were soft. There was also a pair of thick purple socks that you hadn't seen him grab, equally soft, and you already planned to change into them with your pajamas. 

Not even an hour later, as you were settling in for bed, you received a text message with a photo attached. 

Hermes, his hair wild and hat off, with a gigantic grin on his face. Proudly wearing the crochet headband with a carefully curled pair of stuffed ram horns. Captioned: ‘Better than my laurels.’

You suddenly really hoped he wouldn't wear that to council meetings. You'd created a monster.