Loki knocked on the door of the apartment address that Owen had given him. A moment later, Owen answered the door wearing the exact same suit and red tie combination Loki had met him in at the party and motioned for him to come inside.

In the small living area within, Alex was leaning back in an armchair with his hands behind his head resting his feet on the coffee table and looking for all the world like he owned the place. His red hair looked like it hadn't been cut in ages and lay in disarray. A large tattoo of a stylized fox head peaked out from under the sleeve of his faded T-shirt. He regarded Loki critically for a moment before Owen cleared his throat and gave the teen a meaningful look. Sighing, the red-head stood up and made his way over to Loki offering an unenthusiastic handshake. "Alex," he stated simply.

Loki had already decided that he hated the boy and made no attempt to hide it. "Loki of Asgard."

Alex shoved his hands into his pant pockets and looked lazily at Loki, "So, was the whole horns-on-the-helmet thing your idea?"

Loki narrowed his eyes at the youth. Working with Owen was one thing, but Loki was clearly having second thoughts about doing any favors for this disrespectful child.

Sensing the rising tension, Owen stepped in and pulled Alex aside. "Alexander, wait in the kitchen and I'll talk to Loki first."

Alex rolled his eyes and sulked over to the adjoining kitchen area a few feet away. He sat down, took out his phone, and started typing away as he twirled mindlessly on a stool at the kitchen counter.

Owen glanced at Loki, "Please have a seat."

Loki was tempted to leave right then and there, but then he remembered the possibility of being free of his bracelets. Deciding he would at least hear the other man out first, he crossed his arms and responded curtly, "I'd rather stand."

"As you wish," Owen said, revealing no emotion as always.

"So," Loki said, hoping to be done with this as soon as possible, "What is it you want me to steal from Stark Tower?"

"You won't be stealing anything. We'll simply be borrowing it for a short time."

"I see," Loki said skeptically, "So, what is it? An Iron Man suit?"

A burst of laughter erupted from the direction of the kitchen. "Are you kidding me?" Alex chuckled, his eyes never leaving his cell phone screen, "My dad built one of those twenty years ago... and it looked a hell of a lot cooler too."

Loki tried to ignore the boy and kept focused on Owen, "What then?"

"A small metal artifact that Mr. Stark recently acquired for his private art collection."

"You want me to risk my freedom on some worthless trinket?" Loki hissed.

"To Mr. Stark, yes, it is indeed worthless," Owen explained, "But not to us."

Loki waited for further explanation, but Owen offered none.

"The gallery where it is currently displayed has minimal security," Owen continued, "So the process of gaining access to it should be relatively straight forward with little risk to you."

Loki nodded slowly, "And what exactly can you do about the bracelets?"

"We can deactivate them so they no longer suppress your magic or track your location. And you will be the only person aware that they are no longer functioning."

"So," Loki summarized, "You free my magic, then I steal-"

"Borrow," Owen corrected.

"Fine, 'borrow' this thing from Stark Tower for you?"

"Actually, your magic will be freed after obtaining the item."

"And how do you expect me to sneak around there alone without my magic?"

"You won't be alone," Alex chimed in from his seat in the kitchen.

Loki opened his mouth to say something, but stopped and closed it again. He glanced at Alex and the realization set in. "Oh, no," Loki stated firmly, turning towards Owen again, "I'm not going to work with that immature self-absorbed-"

"Those are the conditions," Owen stated.

"Then I will have to decline," Loki said, turning swiftly towards the door.

"I would ask you to reconsider," Owen called out.

Loki turned towards them again, clearly beginning to lose his temper, "Do you think me a fool? Do you think the petty rivalries between mortals mean anything to me?"

"This isn't about Stark and Xanatos," Owen insisted.

Exasperated, Alex slammed his phone down on the counter and turned towards Owen, "Why don't we just threaten the guy?"

Owen looked at him calmly, "Because he is a valuable ally-"

"Just because you have some kind of man-crush on him."

Owen lifted an eyebrow. "Alexander," he said in a warning tone. It was the closest thing to showing some kind of emotion that Loki had seen Owen express yet.

Loki grimaced. He didn't like being talked about as if he were not there, as if he were not any kind of threat. "My patience wears thin. You have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?"

Alex stood up defiantly and glared at him with all the vindictive rage of a self-righteous teenager, "As if you know who you're dealing with, you dumbass."

Loki grinned maliciously and slowly advanced on the boy, "Oh, I do. A spoiled brat and his baby-sitter. The insignificant scum of this realm..."

Alex smirked as he tossed his phone in the air and flicked his wrist. The phone burst into a molten mass and re-solidified as it shot towards Loki, forming large metallic hooks that caught and pinned his wrists to the wall behind him. Alex turned to Owen, looking smug, "See, I told you he'd be worthless without his magic."

Loki was momentarily paralyzed with shock. The boy could use magic. But Loki should have been able to sense the boy's powers. Were his bracelets suppressing that ability as well? Regardless, his rage got the better of him. Even without his magic, he still had the strength of an Asgardian. It would take more than a few pieces of metal to hold him. He tore himself away from the wall and headed straight for the infuriating red-headed boy, grabbing hold of him by his neck and lifting him several inches off the ground.

"Loki," said Owen, as calm as ever while Alex gasped for air and kicked wildly, "Please put the boy down." It seemed as if Owen had been in this situation many times before.

Loki chuckled humorlessly, "Or what?"

"Or you'll have to deal with me," Owen slowly removed his glasses and stored them inside his suit jacket.

Loki laughed out loud this time, "And you think a stone fist will stop me?"

Loki's attention returned to Alex and his grip tightened on the boy's neck. Alex's eyes went wide with panic, clawing ineffectually at the hand around his throat. Finally, he managed to choke out Owen's name.

In a flash, a beam of energy shot out, separating Loki from Alex and slamming him into the wall. The teen slumped down to the floor coughing and gently rubbing his neck. Loki looked up in surprise. Where Owen had once stood, now stood a short man with long white hair, large elvish ears, and a thin, crooked grin that could rival Loki's own. His clothing had completely changed as well, and it was like nothing Loki had seen mortals wear so far. It was almost fit for an Asgardian.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Alex?" said the man who had replaced Owen, keeping his eyes fixed on Loki, "Don't underestimate anyone, even if they can't use magic." He stepped between Alex and Loki, crossing his arms in the manner of an elder brother interceding between his little brother and a bully. "Now, Alex. Either apologize to the nice man before he pulverizes you or I'll put you to sleep before you do anything else monumentally stupid."

Alex glared defiantly at the white-haired man's back, then snarled at Loki. "You bas-"

"Sleep," the elvish man said quickly, and Alex dropped to the floor unconscious.

The man sighed and gave an apologetic look to Loki, "Kids these days. You'll have to forgive the boy. He's a bit impulsive. Gets that from his mother."

Loki looked carefully at the elvish man, but said nothing.

"I'm called the Puck," the man said, grinning broadly and making a theatrical bow, "It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance face-to-face."

"You're not a mortal," Loki said slowly, "What realm are you from? Are you from Alfheim?"

"You're wondering if I'm from one of those other worlds like you? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I was born here. Well, closer to this realm than you at least. Humans sometimes call us the Fair Folk."

Loki vaguely recalled the term from a book he had read long ago on Midgardian myths and legends. "A... fairy?" he asked, barely concealing a grin, "I didn't think you existed."

"We like to keep a low profile," Puck admitted offhandedly.

"So there are more of you living on Midgard?"

"Yes... but not at the moment," Puck answered in a measured tone.

Loki smiled. He knew that tone of voice because he'd used it himself so often. The one where the statement is true, but the meaning behind it is intentionally obscured. Puck was obviously acutely aware of their position as points of contact between two possibly equally dangerous and powerful groups of beings. The delicacy Puck afforded Loki was not something that would be offered to anyone thought to be less than an equal, and Loki found himself respecting the man for that.

"But you are an immortal?" Loki continued.

"Possibly as much as you could call yourself one," Puck intoned in a sing-song fashion.

Loki's gaze grew darker, "And the boy?"

Puck arched an eyebrow and responded in a less than amused tone, "Not one to beat around the bush, are you?" He took a moment to consider his answer, "Alex is a halfling... One quarter immortal. But I would kindly ask you not to test the limits of that heritage. I know he can be a pain sometimes, but he's under my protection." Puck shot Loki a deadly serious look, "I hope we're clear on that."

Loki looked thoughtfully at the man, "So, the artifact you want? It must have some kind of magical properties?"

Puck grinned widely, seeming pleased to return to the matter at hand, "Can't get anything past you, can I?"

Loki relaxed a bit as things started to make sense, "What does it do?"

Puck laughed out loud, "As if I'd tell you!"

Loki couldn't help but smirk. An exchange of services was now looking very tempting indeed, especially now that he knew Puck actually had the magical power to uphold his end of the bargain.

"And now that you are no longer in a murderous rage," Puck stated, "I think I will revert to my more mild-mannered persona, if you don't mind." And with that, Puck's elvish form melted into Owen again.

"Wait," Loki interjected, "This still makes no sense. You don't need me. That blast you hit me with was no halfling's magic. Surely with your power-"

"Currently, I'm inconveniently limited in how I can participate in this operation."

Loki's brow furrowed.

"Of course," Owen continued, "I would not presume to deceive someone known as the Lie-Smith. So, feel free to assume that that is not my only reason, and I ask for your understanding in waiting a little longer before revealing my other motives to you."

Loki was taken slightly aback. A trickster who was being honest about his deception? It had been a long time since someone had spoken to him in such a way. With honest respect, not a hint of judgment or pity, and even genuine flattery. Loki had to admit this elvish man was growing on him. Perhaps there was something to his earlier statement about them being kindred spirits. If the society of these Fair Folk was anything like that of Asgard, then Puck had likely spent millennia seeing no one but the same beings. Loki could now understand the nervous excitement of meeting an immortal who was so completely new and different. This might just be fun after all.

Somehow sensing that Loki had made up his mind, Owen offered a handshake, "So, do we have a deal?"

Loki took Owen's hand and nodded with a sly smile, "When do we start?"