AN: So apparently little Trish Odinson (the Second? I have no idea, folks) is refusing to leave my brain alone. All Loki Needs is now becoming a bit of a collection of random Trish moments. They won't follow any particular time line, or part. Little kid drabbes for the win! Just to be clear: all of these ficlets are just happy familyish moments, and will stay rated K.

Why? Because Loki needs an evil apprentice, that's why.

The Tiny Asgard

Loki didn't know what it was about his niece, but there was something that made it nearly physically impossible for him to be angry with her. More often than not, when it came to Trish, Loki could be nothing less than amused. It took a fair bit of destruction to keep him entertained for long, but the girl captivated almost everyone around her effortlessly.

He'd overhead the mortal wench, Darcy, telling his – ugh- sister in law that children tended to have that effect on people. Seeing as he never spent time with children, Loki assumed he'd have to take her word for it.

"You understand, then, why I'm upset?" He wasn't upset, though. Not really. His robe was ripped, true, and also a bit muddy, but it was easy enough to repair. Jane had already offered, albeit hesitantly, to have it dry cleaned and sewn up for him. He had of course waved her off, allowed her to scold the child, then settled in his armchair as Trish sulked infront of the fire.

"I said sorry." She muttered back, loud enough for him to hear, but mumbled enough that he knew she was pouting without being able to see her. She was sprawled on her stomach, her tiny Asgard under her chin, keeping it propped so she could continue watching the flames dance.

Without thought, he flicked his fingers and the fire flared. Trish gasped at it turned green, snaking up the chimney and lapping at the marble tile just outside the hearth.

"I know."

"You were being a meanie." She added, peering at him over her shoulder.

"I was not." He was mildly offended, eyebrows shooting up.

"Yep. You were. You stepped on my petunias."

"I didn't mean to."

"You never said you were sorry." Her eyes were sparkling with mischeif and Loki realized that the tiny creature did indeed spend too much time with her 'Aunt Darcy'. She had her fathers charm, her mothers intelligence, and her aunts – perhaps his, too – deep love for causing – mostly – harmless trouble.

"You're a prat." He offered, crossing the room so he could crouch beside her, watching his fire dance as he wiggled his fingers. "I did nothing wrong, as it was an accident, and I don't apologize often." Ever, really.

"I'm certain." That drawl was lilted into an accent, and his lips curved into a fond grin. The brat was mocking him of all people.

He tickled at her side, before tugging her Asgard from under her chin. She oomfed as her chin banged into her arms. Magic came to him easily, and this was such a small thing. He watched the pale green dragon as its wings began to move, and it's opened mouth clamped shut, smoke curling from fake nostrils. He set the creature before his niece, smirking at her saucer-wide eyes. "I'm sorry." He drawled back, patting her on the head and returning to his chair.

Thor, silent for once, hid a grin behind his hand and lowered the digital camera to lay once more against his chest, strap tight on the back of his neck. Oh yes. Inviting Loki for Trish's seventh birthday had been a wonderful idea for certain. He'd have to thank Darcy for harrasing him into doing it.