Tony really needed to stop having lab binges. He was exhausted and just felt like ugh, not that it would stop him the next time he walked into the lab. He shuffled toward the bed, mumbling calculations and ideas to himself, and collapsed onto the sheets still covered in oil and sweat.

The dark laugh that echoed through the room was the only possible thing that could have him up so fast. Not even an explosion would have worried him as much as that laugh which so easily sent shivers down his spine. Tony looked around wildly for the source. "JARVIS?"

"Sir?" the A.I. responded, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Where's the intruder?"

A moment's pause, and then, "Sir, my systems detect no intruder."

But Tony was certain he had heard someone laugh. The only other answer was that he was going out of his mind, and he'd done that before. This was definitely something different. It felt different. He had to find out what was going on, and fast. Anything that could mess with JARVIS was bad news.

He forced himself up, muscles no longer tired now that adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He tried to appear casual, as if he was brushing the laugh off as a figment of his imagination, and walked to the bar to pour himself a double scotch. He downed it in as many gulps, and poured himself another. Then, he walked to the window, staring out over the city as he sipped his drink. Nothing. Next he went to the dresser, setting the empty glass on top of it. All concern seemed gone when he walked into the bathroom and wiped off his face and arms with a washcloth. Nothing felt wrong; he didn't even feel like he was being watched even though he knew he was. Fuck, where was the bitch?

With a heavy sigh, Tony wandered back to the bed and flopped on it again, hoping the action would draw out another laugh. Nope, nothing. He rolled over and sat up, glaring at the room.

There was a noise of someone clicking their tongue that caused Tony to jump. This time whoever it was was definitely closer. Oh yeah, really close, he discovered as the beautiful woman, dark hair hanging down to her waist, was suddenly in his face. "Looking for something, Stark?" she teased. If sex had a voice it would be her's, no doubt about it. Her green dress was low cut, emphasizing her large breasts. A slit up to her hip showed off long legs that would look beautiful wrapped around him. Yes, Tony was totally thinking about sleeping with her after only two seconds, although the gold horn crown on her head gave him pause. He only knew one person who wore horns like those.

"Loki?" His voice went up an octave. "What the hell are you doing here?" Stop staring at her breasts, stop staring at her breasts. He was totally staring at her breasts. To be fair, they were three inches from his face, and absolutely fabulous.

Loki shrugged her perfect shoulders, the straps of her dress precariously slipping further down. "I was bored, sitting all by myself in my silent apartment. I wondered what I could do to entertain myself when I remembered your amusing…mouth."

She needed to stop with that voice. That voice was making his pants tighter than they should be. Tony should be calling the rest of the Avengers to come kick her ass, not admiring the leg that rubbed against his as Loki half knelt on the bed.

The Trickster grabbed his chin, not harshly, but with enough force to make Tony look back into those brilliant green eyes. "What?" she pouted. "No amusing remarks? No witty banter? I am disappointed, Stark."

That, Tony immediately realized, was a challenge, and he wasn't about to let the bastard get away with a win. He smirked at her, the hands that had gone up in surprise when she had appeared making their way to her hips. "If you want to play, Loki, then we can play. I just hope you know what you're getting into."

Loki slid fully into his lap. "Oh, I think I can manage." She leaned down and pressed hungry lips against his own. Tony responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her as close as possible. She fit against him perfectly. It was as if she had made this body simply for him, which quite frankly, the Trickster might have actually done.

Wait, was he about to sleep with the God of Mischief? The Avengers' number one enemy? Loki had only two days ago punched him in the face before throwing him to the ground to make a Tony Stark shaped crater. There was no way he could do this, no way. He would be murdered a thousand times over by everyone if they found out…if. Fuck it, no, he couldn't do this. He needed to push her away, and he needed to do it now.

As if sensing his hesitation, Loki pulled back. Slim hands reached up and pushed the straps of her dress down fully. The cloth caught on her nipples, and Tony's mouth watered. Loki raised an expectant eyebrow, clearly waiting for Tony to make the next move.

Tony gulped, actually gulped. She was going to drag him to Hell, and he was going to love every minute of it. All he had to do was reach up. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, was he actually going to do this?

"Second thoughts, Stark?" Loki purred.

Tony was going to have to figure out how Loki had discovered all the right buttons to push with him. It was too dangerous to let himself be manipulated like this. But Loki's eyes were encouraging, and her body was cool against his. Why was she cool? Didn't matter, it felt wonderful.

"Not a chance," Tony growled.

He reached up, and he was lost.