Hi, everybody. Thank you for calling up this story, which is my second fanfic in the Marvel universe.

This story was started mainly because I was curious to see whether I could "write" Tony Stark. Therefore, instead of featuring all Avengers, it focuses on him, Loki and Thor – the latter two gradually taking over as the original stand-alone scene suddenly set off and developed a plot.

To enjoy this story, you should not be hostile to the concept that Thor is not in an "if my 'one-time brother' says but one wrong word I'll smash him, regardlessly" way (otherwise, this story would be finished pretty much at Loki's second line). You also should not resent the idea of Earth liqueur going to an Asgardian's head. However, no Aesir/Avenger was made to purr, panic, morph, half-drown, swear, or eat fast food, unless absolutely necessary. :)

Rated T, because necessity is a bitch.

Contains spoilers to "The Avengers" and wraps up preparing the road to Thor II.

Please read & review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Loki, Thor, Tony Stark or any other character featured in this story, I hold no rights to any of them. I do not make money out of this.

+++Chapter 1: He's alone. With my drinks +++

The Avengers returned from their Shawarma break and found Loki missing. They had left the trickster with chains on his hands and feet that Thor promised would arrest his magic. They also had successfully talked themselves into believing that half an hour did not make a difference, really: Look at how beaten up the trickster was.

Look at how utterly destroyed Tony's floor was, where the Hulk had pounded the demigod. JARVIS had it all taped, and the Avengers carefully avoided looking at each other when they watched those five or six seconds that mattered.

There had been a short silence afterward. Someone snuffled. Someone else shuffled their feet.

And then, Barton's voice, 'Encore! Please!'

Natasha had nudged him in the ribs and mumbled in Russian that she didn't care about Loki, but Thor was present.

Stepping over the debris on his way out had made Tony think of a favorite cliché in cartoons: People falling from great heights and leaving a Donald Duck- or Coyote-shaped hole in the ground.

The hole in Tony's floor was vaguely Loki-shaped.

Bizarre.

Yet, the guy still lived to ask for a drink. Didn't even have a major bone broken. Was already able to sneer at them again when they took him to one of the laboratories on level eighty-one, a sterile, empty room that featured nothing that could be used as tools or weapons. There were not only one, but three heavy, fire- and radiation-proof doors to make sure "not even a multi-dimensional hornet on crack could beam in or out", as Tony had proudly put it.

The precautions had convinced Barton and Romanoff that it was not necessary for them to return with the others after their belated "lunch break". Thor had officially appealed to Director Fury to hand over Loki to Asgardian justice. Barton feared he might kill the trickster before scientists had finished preparing the Tesseract to channel the journey. He wanted to see Loki but one more time: standing on the platform with Thor, gagged and bound, ready for transport.

Then, and only then, Barton would smile at the trickster, and he would not smile nicely.

So, it was only Thor, Rogers, Banner and Stark himself who were faced with the disaster – and they, too, were far from amused.

'Stark? Stark!' Rogers held up the trickster's discarded chains. He practically shoved them up Stark's nose to get the man's attention.

'Easy,' warned Tony, snapping out of his reverie. He raised his hands in a defensive gesture. 'Watch where you stick that.'

'How could this happen? You programmed your computer to keep Loki here, didn't you?'

The implied accusation toward his A.I. assistant washed some color into Tony's face, 'Why's JARVIS suddenly responsible if Prince of Denmark's chains can't take a little rattling?'

'Stark,' said Banner, 'It's "Prince of Asgard". And it looks like these chains were not broken but opened. So were the doors. And, yes, I did get that you were making a literary reference. I only think it was politically beside the point and in bad taste.'

'That's right. Let me know if I suck. It's only my house, after all. Got my name on it. Granted, everything but the "A" went missing, but - ' Banner gave him a really dirty look, which was beside the point, because Tony already regarded the chains as he spoke. Opened. Right. 'JARVIS? Do you have an explanation?'

'Mr. Loki of Asgard asked me to release him,' said the A.I.

Rogers immediately looked like all his potential prejudices toward a modern bag of bolts and relays had been fulfilled. Banner arched his eyebrows. Thor remained silent. He toyed with something he had brought from Asgard, a gag to be put on his brother once he was caught. Loki talked himself out of trouble more efficiently than some men wielded their swords at their captors. But it had been only half an hour, and no one to talk to... or so Thor had thought.

'Of course, I didn't comply with his wishes,' JARVIS went on. 'But he started reasoning with me.'

'Reasoning?' asked Tony.

'When you left you explicitly told me to watch our "guest". Mr Loki overheard that. So he asked me how I could reconcile my order to provide for a guest's well-being with my refusal to unchain him. I replied that it was in my programming to obey your orders, sir. You wishes are prominent. You obviously did not wish him to leave, as he was likely to do, if released.'

'If it was that obvious, why did you free him?' asked Banner.

'He pointed out that I had no proof he would actually leave the building,' the A.I. said. 'Providing for guests is a standing order. The decision to refuse this basest hospitality on purely speculative grounds in this particular case was mine. Mr. Loki's arguments were very convincing. I must admit that for about zero-point-five seconds he got me considering to shut myself down altogether. He made me see that I had become a nuisance to biological lifeforms such as himself rather than a reinforcement for your cause, Mr. Stark.'

A short silence followed this information.

'Correct me, if I'm wrong, Bruce,' said Stark. 'But isn't that so very Star Trek?'

'I don't know how often Captain Kirk did it,' said Banner. 'Talking a hostile A.I. into self-destruction by appealing to its original purpose, the service to mankind. Never took him more than three or four minutes, though.'

'Air time already was expensive back then,' deadpanned Stark.

'Who is this captain?' asked Rogers, looking from one to the other.

'You'd get along,' said Stark, off-handedly. 'You and he, I don't know, feels like you hatched around the same decade. Age of the Taper Cut Heroes, or something.'

'It's a bit of Asimov, too,' mused Banner aloud.

'Yes, but JARVIS didn't shut down, because – JARVIS? Why didn't you?'

'Because after laying down the fundamental problem, Mr. Loki and I were able to work out a mode of proceeding that was fit to fulfill the requirements of hospitality while at the same time being in accordance with safety protocol.'

'Requirements? Hospitality? Just where is he, JARVIS?!'

'Mr. Loki is in the lounge.'

'Is he alone?' asked Rogers.

'Affirmative.'

'He's alone?' Tony actually paled a little. 'With my... drinks?' he breathed.

They stepped out of the elevator into an empty lounge. The debris on the floor was unchanged. The large window was still shattered. There was a beautiful light of late afternoon on the river and the skyline.

It also highlighted the terrible damage wreaked on the buildings of Manhattan. It reminded them that hardly two hours ago, this city had been the scene of a deadly fight... and the arch villain their charge.

'All right, JARVIS, where is he?' asked Tony. Behind him, Thor, Banner and Rogers fanned out.

They didn't have to fan very far.

'Mr. Loki is at the bar,' said the A.I., just as Rogers called out, 'I got him.'

The blond soldier kept a stoic face as the demigod swivelled up his eyes to him and said in a low, mocking voice, 'And how great an accomplishment it is, and how elated you must feel about it.'

'What the – ' Stark, less bothered about countenance than the captain, rounded the corner and stared at their prisoner: Loki sat on the floor with his back against the counter. His legs were stretched out, forming a V-shape in front of him. His hands were loosely in his lap, but it was the sight of the glass in his right hand that wrought the hearty 'f'-word from Tony's mouth.

'A little rude,' said Loki. 'But amazingly close to expressing my sentiments on this situation, too.' He sipped from his glass and shivered. His shoulders slumped at bit. 'Sentiments,' he mumbled into his drink and guffawed.

Tony cast a deeply concerned look at the next best Avenger nearby. It happened to be Banner. The doctor shrugged.

Don't stand there shrugging, Tony wanted to shout at him. That's my favorite 1958 Highland Single Malt going into Crawling Chaos. You don't chug that like soda. That is to say I might, if I were beaten up, humiliated and in the mood for it. But, hell, I own that stuff. He doesn't. I do.

'Brother.' Thor's voice rumbled so deep it seemed to reverberate in the walls. 'What have you done?'

'So you've returned from your little... Shawarma ramble, haven't you?' Loki's tones were pure velvet, sprinkled with finely ground glass. 'Did you celebrate your victory? Did you glory in your triumph?'

Thor, like everyone, thought of the tired, silent bunch munching listlessly on their fast food. 'That is not what trans– '

'I can picture you standing there,' Loki cut across him in that soft, yet hateful voice, 'In all your princely attire, the Mjolnir in hand, you would strike a magnificent pose. Proudly relating the news of your conquest, recounting every detail to the human dimwits that are dull and gullible enough to hang on your every word – '

Thor wanted to jump at him.

Rogers and Banner moved as if they basically meant to stop him, but just needed to figure out what the hell would be their reasons for wanting to do so?

Tony could think of at least one.

'Ah,' he said, 'Ah, ah, ah! Not my floor again!', and his tone of voice actually managed to halt the breaking storm. There was, after all, something like a host's authority, and it entitled Tony Stark to call his guests to order and forbid bloodshed in his house. Half-heartedly, Thor moved forward again. Stark's upraised finger stopped him. 'Before this is taken any further, I want it to be absolutely clear to everyone present - ' Tony turned and, looking down his nose at Loki, he said with a chuckle on his voice, 'You don't know what a Shawarma joint looks like on the inside, do you, Reindeer Games? You've never been to one. You have no idea what "Shawarma" is.'

Loki glared up at him, then he cast a calculating look at his brother. 'I'm never going to find out now,' he stated. 'That's so umph-hair.' His last sentence mimicked a querulous child's sulky tone of voice.

'Umph-hair?' asked Tony.

'Loki is referring to my mispronouncing the word "unfair" when I was much younger,' growled Thor.

From below and over the rim of his glass, Loki shot him a look that said it was only one of the more harmless embarrassing secrets he could relate, if he wanted. If Thor made him want to relate them through deed, word or simply by continuing to breathe threat down his neck.

'What is this? A fraternal strife?' asked Rogers irritably.

'Of course it is,' said Tony, 'Stuttgart. The helicarrier. World domination. Nothing but a younger sibling carrying it out on his senior.' He shrugged. 'You didn't notice?'

'But that's so – petty,' protested Rogers.

'On the contrary. It's arrested development on a semi-devine scale. You and I used to kick at flowers when we were five and felt mistreated. This guy is a little older, and an alien, and he thinks about uprooting the World Tree because his big brother didn't take him to the party.'

'Party?'

'Shawarma joint,' translated Stark. 'And quite a number of sleepovers and prom nights that you and I don't know about.'

'How young were you?' asked Banner meanwhile, just to distract the thunderer from his anger. It worked at least partially.

'Oh, seventy... eighty, maybe,' said Thor. But his hand still held the Mjolnir, just like Loki refilled his drink as if this wasn't about him at all.

Banner signaled Thor to listen to him.

'Look,' he said, 'I don't know about Asgardian childhood, really. But I am sure that whatever went down between you two, at least you never did it on purpose - '

'I was burdened with glorious purpose,' Loki pointed out. 'Until you guys came along.'

Obviously, no one had told the Norse god that you didn't fill a whiskey glass to the brim like you probably would a goblet of mead.

Checking on the bottle's contents, Tony did a quick calculation. He didn't like the result.

Come on, Tony, he told himself. Kick off your pride like you would kick off your shoes before you crawled in with another of those Girls, Your Mommy Has Warned You All About...

Life can be peachy. The main thing is to ignore the tabloids and the stares of people around you... You're doing a marvelous job, Bruce, reining Thunder Bolt in. Don't fail me now. I don't want to be sandwiched between Santa Claus and Father Christmas when the Northern rumble starts.

Tony sat on the floor beside Loki, with his back against the bar and his hands loosely on his drawn-up knees.

'Tell me about "unfair",' he said, keeping his eyes to the opposite wall.

Baaad idea, Tony, he told himself. Never encourage a drunk to pour out his heart to you. Unless "he" is actually a knockout "she" you desperately want to go to bed with.

Even then, it's ambitious...

+++End of Chapter 1+++

A/N: Getting a new story started is always exiting. Looking forward to your reviews! (The "Crawling Chaos" refers to the great H. P. Lovecraft's pantheon, in which it (he?) is described as "the soul" of the gods that, at times, chooses to walk among humans in the disguise of a scientist/sorcerer.)