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Owning a business was a bit like looking after a child, and since Stefan had ample experience with both, he rarely seemed to have time for much else. He didn’t resent having to sign away so many of his personal hours to the brewery, in fact, he loved it there. He could spend hours and hours in the back warehouse with the beer vats, tweaking his brews and coming up with new ideas. But he knew that his friends were probably sick of hearing about it, and sick of always having to come to the Brewery to see him and spend time with him while he worked. But it was hard, Stefan was feeling stuck. He didn’t really know what else to do with his time when he wasn’t working and didn’t have his daughter Ida for the week.

So tonight, he’d been a little nervous because he was trying something new, something he hadn’t done in a long while and even if Sofie and him were sort of just friends… Part of him still knew he’d have to behave in front of her. He was happy to take it there… But he didn’t know if Sofie was. Actually, he didn’t know how she felt about casually hooking up with him at all. He was a little afraid to ask.

So instead, they embraced the Norwegian tradition of Taco Night ( or Fredagstaco ) though it was nothing like the Tacos any Amerian would know. Stefan couldn’t wait to see her reaction. First, he’d taken the night off and swung by The Wolf’s Den to pick Sofie up, dragging her out and getting her staff to assure her they’d be fine without her for just one night. Next, they swung by the restaurant around the corner from his home, picked up the tacos, and then made the short distance to his house. Normally, it was a pigsty, but thankfully his sister Annie had been around earlier that week and worked miracles. Now, the light floor shun through with no clutter, and the black kitchen cupboards showed no grime from hands of a five-year-old. Thankfully, this week wasn’t Dad Week for Stefan, so they had the peaceful home all to themselves.

Her shift had gone by incredibly slow, and she spent it fiddling with things she knew didn’t really need her attention. It was almost a nervous tic, and a few of her employees had teased her good-naturedly about it until Stefan had shown up to take her away from all that. A quick stop to get what this country called ‘tacos’ was all it took until they retired to his place for what he’d promised would be a feast. She didn’t believe him, having grown up on what she felt was some of the best food on earth, but she had to give him credit for spunk.

Chuckling, she took off her own shoes and set them neatly next to the pile near the door. “I mean, you’re the one promising a Puerto Rican that these are going to beat her abuela’s cooking, so it’s you’re funeral,” she said, following Stef into the kitchen. She wore an almost comical expression of exaggerated disbelief, though it didn’t last long. Her grin turned genuine, and she took a minute to soak in her surroundings. The place showed signs of recent cleaning, but there were still a few signs of the little girl she knew lived there.