Author's Note: So, a one-shot that came to me when thinking exactly how infuriating it would be to try to share a house with Loki, despite his good looks. Please read and review!

Loki's in the kitchen. I'm still in my bed down the hall but I know he's there because I can hear the archaic swearing.

I fall out of bed, drag my feet down the hallway until I can stand on the threshold. I know I should help or something, but I like watching him try to cook. Mostly because it makes him look stupid, and we communicate best through passive aggression.

Or maybe that's just me.

"I know you find this amusing, Jules," he says, without looking up from his smoking french toast.

"Yes, I do."

"But it is your dwelling that will be impacted by my failure to manipulate mortal culinary utensils."

"Hey, you burn down my house, I'm gonna kick your ass into the middle of next week."

"I'm fairly sure that is not how the passage of time flows," he mutters, stabbing at the thoroughly dead pastry.

"It sucks not to have magic, doesn't it?" I say with a smirk.

He looks at my smug expression. "And they wonder why I despise humans."

I barely have time to react before his fork imbeds itself in the wall next to my face. I'm fairly sure he could have hit me if he wanted to, in fact he could've done a whole lot of bad things to me by now if he'd had the will, and was ready to accept the consequences, but until then, our regular battles are to be expected but usually maintain harmlessness.

Despite my being about eighty percent sure Loki doesn't think I am worth killing, I still jump a foot in the air, staring at the fork before swinging around angrily.

"What the hell, fuck face? NO throwing shit," I grab a butter dish and throw it at his head before ducking behind a couch, then scuttling back to my room to get dressed.

It's a stressful beginning to what will most certainly be a stressful day.

We're heading into regional headquarters today, so I'll have to look nice, just the thought of which sounds exhausting. I find a black skirt and a button up blouse and try to get my dark hair in a neat bun. I strap the gun I'm supposed to have on me at all times on my hip, though I've long given up on it. All it does is make me nervous. I read over my one hundred and thirty-two page report again, as I had last night before going to bed, and try to quell the butterflies in my stomach. This is my chance, my shot at distinction as a SHIELD agent. As part of the supposedly revolutionary program to assimilate super villains back into society by placing them with an agent companion, expected to gently guide them back to being 'normal'. I figured Loki would never be normal, so my strategy was considerably less about counseling and a lot more about SHIELD paying part of my rent.

But my six months are up. Seeing as my charge still can't work a stove, I can't help but think a promotion might not be in my future.

I grab the binder my report just barely fits in, pull on a coat, and pick up my keys. Loki's straightening his tie in the hall mirror.

"Ready to go?" I ask.

"I presume I look acceptable?"

"You're asking me?"

"Never mind."

I don't know what will happen to Loki if they deem him no longer a security threat. Maybe he'll get his magic back. Maybe he'll go back to Asgard. Maybe he'll go live with Thor and Jane. I snicker under my breath at that last one. I'm sure Thor would be thrilled to have his brother no longer in custody, but I pity Jane trying to live with the both of them.

Loki pulls on a suit jacket and coat and we head out.

The morning light is golden, shining in my eyes as I try to drive.

"Hand me those, will you?" I point to a pair of sunglasses on the dash and Loki passes them to me.

"Are you nervous?" I ask, as he is unusually quiet. He should have said something snarky or eloquently judgmental by now.

We meet eyes at a stoplight. He doesn't say anything.

"You've got nothing to be worried about," I say. "I, on the other hand..."

"What are you going to do when I am gone?"

"You think they're gonna let you out of my custody?"

"Eventually, yes."

I shrugged. "Just go back to what I always do, I guess. Work. Sleep. Eat."

"That's it?"

"I dunno. You've kind of been my life for the last half year. I guess it'll be weird to be alone in the house. And in the town, too." They'd moved us out to this little Colorado town, saying it would be less overwhelming for him or some other psych bullshit. We'd explored a little bit, but mostly kept to ourselves. I guess I could move back east, but there isn't much left there for me either.

"How strange," he murmured. I didn't ask for an explanation, and he didn't offer one.

The regional office was a squat little downtown building, mostly in existence because of our presence. It looked fairly inconspicuous, but today it would be teeming with higher ups, all very dangerous people. I suddenly felt very small, next to this god of trickery, about to enter a building of superheroes and master assassins.

I flash my badge at the security agents. They just barely manage to pull their eyes away from Loki for a moment to verify my identity. They search Loki for weapons while he gives a massive eye roll. Evil or not evil, he isn't easy to get along with.

On the other side of the checkpoint, Nick Fury himself greets us.

"Agent Saverin," he nods at me, and it takes me a second to snap out my stupor.

"Sir," I choke out. Loki squirms next to me.

Three scholarly looking people follow behind Fury, and along with several armed guards they lead Loki down a hallway. He glances over his shoulder at me before disappearing from view. I wonder if these supposed experts can see into the mind of the god of lying.

Fury motions for me to follow. I do as I'm told.

He takes me to a darkly lit conference room, with projector screens on the three walls, displaying the council member's cold faces. The members of the Avengers Initiative themselves occupy a long table. Some of them look relatively normal, like Tony Stark and Bruce Banner and Steve Rogers. Thor always looks a little out there, even when he's not in red cape and sparkling armor. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton still manage to look threatening, dressed in all black and casing the room with calculated apathy.

Fury takes a seat and I'm left standing in front of the, frankly, terrifying group.

"We have read over the advance copy of your report," one of the council members begins. "But are still unclear as to what your recommendation is."

Though all of the Avengers' attention is on me, Thor is on the edge of his seat. I have a brief premonition of my saying the wrong things and him lunging across the room to tear me in half.

I take a deep breath to silence these unproductive thoughts.

"It is my opinion, after six months of observation, that the villain Loki is no longer a direct threat to the security of earth. Though I recommend keeping him under SHIELD surveillance, I think he should be relinquished from full SHIELD custody. I think he has become less dependent on vengeance as fuel for all operations, and may be able to actually assist the Avengers Initiative at some point in the future."

It all comes out surprisingly coherent; far more lucid than my jumbled thoughts.

Murmurs break out across the room. Thor sits back, satisfied. Loki and I have been in veritable isolation for the last six months, and so I imagine the jury's been out on what would come out of my mouth today.

"Thank you, Agent Saverin," Fury says. "You may leave."

That's it? I think, but allow myself to be escorted out to a row of chairs in a nearby atrium. There I sit for what must be an hour, crossing and uncrossing my legs.

They don't call me back in. An unnamed agent emerges from the room, tells me that I'm free to go home.

"What the hell do you mean? What did they decide?"

"I'm not authorized to disclose that information at this juncture."

"Did you really just say that to me?"

He looks back at me expressionlessly. I grab my coat and brush past him angrily. "Son of a bitch."

I don't leave. I march back up the conference room door, but stop before entering. I need to think before I act. Going in their screeching could get me fired. Or worse. At the very least it wouldn't do me any favors.

"Shit," I mutter, and then my decision is made for me.

The door opens, and I am looking up at the Avengers themselves. I can't stop my tongue from moving.

"Well? What are you gonna do with him?"

Thor looks at me with something between amusement and condescension. "My dear, would it be wrong to assume you have some measure of compassion for my brother?"

I let out a slow breath to keep me from slapping the god of thunder.

"He's no longer in your custody."

I don't know what expression spreads across my face. All I say is, "okay."

Then I turn and walk out.

m m m

In the afternoon I leave the house to go grocery shopping.

No agent has showed up to kick me out, so I figure I'll need food for the week. I'm locking the door behind me when I see the black sedan pull up on the curb. The windows are tinted but I still think, ah, so I won't have to go shopping after all.

It's not an agent that gets out of the passenger seat, though.

Still perfectly quaffed and graceful, he walks up the steps to the porch without a word, and faces me.

"Hi," I say.

"Hello," says Loki coolly.

"So, where are they taking you?"

"They have yet to inform me. But I am a free man, if such a thing ever existed."

"Are you hear to get your stuff?"

"If you permit me to enter one last time."

"Go ahead."

I unlock the door and let him in first, then lazily follow him back to his bedroom. I've only seen it a couple times, but it is as stark and barren as always. He takes a few articles of clothing from the closet, and a picture frame off the bed side table. I don't see the image.

A duffle bag packed, he flows past me back out the front room, eyes sweeping the space, his face unreadable.

"Look, um, I gotta get to the store before it closes. Can you just lock up when you're done?" I say, eager to escape the air of awkwardness.

"Yes." I hand him the key, and begin to open the door.

"Jules?"

"Yes?"

He grabs my hand, eyes meeting mine. "I suppose...thank you."

I look down at our intertwined fingers. I can count on one hand how many times Loki and I have touched, and mostly those were by necessity.

I nod at him. "You should come visit me some time. Granted, I don't know where I'll be, but if they give you your magic back it shouldn't be too hard to track me down."

"Perhaps," he says, and almost smiles.

We just stare at each other for a moment, each trying to read the other's mind. Neither of us particularly in touch with emotions, we are mostly just speculating while simultaneously making shit up. I have no idea if Loki is still evil or not. But I think I can consider him an ally, if not a friend. Or more. And I wonder if he thinks the same of me.

I squeeze his hand, and leave without another word.