A/N: This fic is set in the same AU as some of my others and a lot of it happens at the same time as events in my story "Inconceivable." You by no means have to read any of my other stories to enjoy this one but reading "Inconceivable" would provide helpful context for some of this one.

"That man is playing Galaga! Thought we wouldn't notice. But we did."

Agent Carter Reed cringed inwardly and minimized his game. He was fresh out of the academy, on a telecom desk detail of little import, and had nothing that needed doing at that moment, but it was still embarrassing to be called out. Even worse was being called out by a celebrity. Reed fiddled with his mouse until he felt comfortable with how far the conversation had moved on, then glanced over his shoulder just to make sure, pulled his emulator back up, and resumed playing. This was going to be a long detail if he didn't end up dead.

Within twenty four hours, he was laid up in a very crowded hospital.

Six years later:

Agent Natasha Romanov strode into the break room. "Coulson, there you are. I have a party to invite you to, everyone else is also invited."

Reed glanced up from his cereal.

"A party?" Coulson sounded dubious.

"Stark's throwing it."

"When?"

"July fourth. It's Steve's hundredth birthday and Tony is secretly making a big deal of it. Slight problem in that Steve doesn't know enough people for a big party, so S.H.I.E.L.D. is invited. Basically all of us."

Independence Day rolled around and Reed found himself, along with a hundred odd other agents, in the ballroom of a fancy hotel in downtown New York City. He hovered awkwardly at the corner of a table, glass of champagne in hand. One of his coworkers, Sharon, came up and put her arm around his shoulders. "Reed, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just, the last time I was around members of the Avengers Initiative—other than Romanov and Barton—I wound up hospitalized."

"I think that's true for almost everyone here. Lucky me, last time I was around them was at Stark and Cap's wedding."

"You went to their wedding?"

Sharon shrugged. "My aunt knew the Captain. She was invited."

"Oh."

Later in the evening, Reed found himself sitting at a table with all the Avengers, Agent Coulson, Agent Hill, and a handful of his other colleagues who Romanov, Rogers, and Stark were steadily drinking under the table. Reed dropped a hand pf cards, having just been beaten at blackjack by Romanov yet again.

"Hey, you," Stark gestured at Reed, who looked up, startled.. "Where have I seen you before? I've seen you before."

"He's the guy who was playing Galaga on the Helicarrier during our first mission as a team." Romanov took a swig from a bottle of flavored vodka and collected up the cards. "Agent Carter Reed, level two, technologies department."

"Thank you, Agent Romanov." Reed flushed with embarrassment. "I was hoping no one remembered that."

Stark laughed. "Ah, Galaga!"

Reed cringed internally, knowing instinctively that 'Galaga' was going to be his new nickname for the rest of forever.

Across the table, Captain Rogers took his husband's hand. "Hard to believe that was seven years ago."

"Says the man born in nineteen-twenty." Barton examined the label on the wine bottle he was drinking from, then held it up in a toast.

"Point made." The Captain chuckled.

"I think the harder thing to believe is that I was clinically dead at the time, and the two of you hated each other." Coulson ate a potato chip. "Look how far we've come."

A smooth voice cut into the conversation. "But then as now, I turn up unannounced and uninvited." A tall, handsome man sidled up to the table, and Reed's blood ran cold. It was Loki. Along with every other agent, Reed drew his weapon and trained it on the prince's head. Loki paid the arsenal no mind. "No thanks to my brother, I've gotten leave to join the celebration. Have a present." He set a delicately tooled leather bound sketchbook on the table.

Captain Rogers picked the book up. "Wow, this is nice. Thank you."

"I'd heard you draw." The raven haired madman turned to Coulson, sounding bored, and looked at the agent's gun. "I've no plan to kill you again, you can put that away. That goes for all of you. Most of you seem too knackered to aim properly regardless."

Reed adjusted his grip on his pistol but made no move to put it down. No other agents put their weapons away, either. Loki shrugged, and took a seat next to Reed, which caused the young agent's heart to beat a tattoo against his ribs. Loki poured himself a glass of champagne, and looked at the Captain. "So you've made it a century. Not much by my book, but quite an achievement for a human—though I dare say being cryogenically frozen qualifies as cheating."

"You really are going to make a habit of this, aren't you?" Stark griped.

"When I can." Loki sipped his champagne.

Reed lowered his gun slightly, studying the man sitting next to him. He was dressed in a well-tailored charcoal suit and had matching chain bracelets around each slender wrist. His bright green eyes glittered as though lit from within with a kind of mischievious glee that made Reed extremely nervous.

"What do you mean he's going to make a habit of this?" Agent Hill shot Stark a look.

"He sort of crashed my forty-first birthday."

"I did. We played poker." Loki set his glass down; Reed thought he saw the glittering eyes flick in his direction. "I don't intend to be here long."

The Captain fingered the corner of his new sketchbook. "If he's not going to be here long, I think it's safe for the weapons to be put away. Please."

Slowly, the arsenal was stowed, but the agents maintained a wary surveillance of the uninvited guest. The card games resumed, but the drinking and chitchat was stilted. Reed took a new hand of cards and allowed himself to tune out the conversation that had started up over whether the sketchbook was cursed. It must not have been because soon it was being passed around to be doodled in. When it got to Reed, there was already a school of fish and a fishhook drawn on the first page. With a private grin, Reed added a Magikarp and passed the sketchbook on.

When Loki vanished about a half hour later, Reed found himself inexplicably missing the presence to his left. Coulson turned on Rogers. "Why, exactly, were you defending him?"

Everyone looked up to watch what was bound to be an interesting argument. Reed, for one, was curious to see the legendary agent with his feathers ruffled for once.

"Because I didn't want a fight, and I actually believe he means no harm," the Captain explained patiently.

"He—"

Rogers cut Coulson off. "Is unstable and tried to kill you, I know, but—"

"He did kill me."

"You don't look very dead to me, Phil. You weren't out for all that long, and I'm sure it was traumatic, but you didn't miss much and when you woke up everyone you knew was still alive, so I apologize for not being impressed. I prefer to see the best in people, you know that. God knows I must, or I wouldn't be married. As such, I am prepared to give Loki the benefit of the doubt. I'd appreciate others doing the same. If you treat someone like a monster, that's all they can ever be."

Coulson stared at him. Several agents blinked. Reed liked the Captain's logic, even if everyone else thought the man had lost his mind.

"Shame we can't chalk that little spiel up to the wine." Stark said while patting his husband on the arm. "Anyway, I'm gonna say we should all go home. Yes, this is me trying to defuse a situation, not my strong suit. So, yeah, everybody to the coatcheck."

After that, the party dissolved. Reed walked home to his New York apartment, wondering about the mysterious, panther of a man he'd just encountered and whom he wouldn't encounter again for another four years.