Author's Note: Alright, so I know it took me forever to update this - sorry! Seriously don't know where the time goes sometimes. So the cereal makes another great cameo, hope you guys enjoy that, I know I did. Also, the update is really thanks to a special reader to actually took the time to PM me and ask to update it ;) you know who you are.

Well, without further delay, your chapter is in. Please read and enjoy!


Chapter 3: Learning Curve

. . . . .

"I don't like it."

Natasha rolled her eyes and re-crossed her arms. "You don't like anything, Clint."

"Not true," Hawkeye let the arrow fly and strike its target yards off. He silently thanked Tony for adding a shooting range in the training room. "I like plenty of things – like TV and women and meatball sandwiches – but excuse me if having a super-villain traipsing around our base isn't on that list. I don't trust him; he took all my cereal."

"Seriously? That's what you're-,"

"The whole box, Tasha!"

Clint fired another shot, this one more than just a little off course, striking almost a foot away from the center circle. The bowman cursed under his breath and stomped over to the wall to retrieve his arrows.

"Loki won't be a problem, you know that. You're letting irrational fear cloud your judgment," the female assassin said slowly, purposefully. Natasha met Clint's gaze levelly, raising her chin in a silent challenge.

"I hate when you do that," Clint relented. "Fine, I won't gouge the bastard's eyes out while he sleeps, but I will be watching him."

The Black Widow smirked back at her partner, "I wouldn't expect any less."

. . . . .

"Your midgardian garb is strange, Stark."

Loki's voice echoed out from the bathroom currently overflowing with steam. The god had been in the shower for more than an hour, cursing about 'infernal human mechanisms' and damning 'the mortals' contraptions'.

"Please tell me you don't need help, otherwise I'll be sending for Birdman to come help you. And I don't mean Hawkeye," Tony called back from his spot on the couch of Loki's room. The billionaire had given Loki one of the spare suites on the third floor, the least inhabited of the whole building. Also, the spot couldn't be more perfect – Tony's own room was directly above and the kitchen, living room, and rest of the squad was directly one floor below. JARVIS could monitor where Loki was based on his use of the elevator.

As for the clothing situation, Tony had sent for custom fit articles that might suit the god better but until then, he'd have to deal with borrowing. The slacks and button up Tony knew would be well out of Loki's comfort zone, but then again, as a god stripped of his powers and exiled to Earth, beggars weren't about to become pompous choosers – but knowing Loki, there would be some snide remarks.

Loki's sharp response was immediate, "No, I will manage."

"Good, then get out here, we still have to-," Tony stopped short, his eyes coming to rest on the now reemerged Loki.

His long black hair was damp and clung to his neck and jaw, looking much less sinister and flippy than before. Tony's white shirt fit the god, perhaps a bit too well, defining his broad shoulders that once Tony would have sworn were narrow and sloped. Tony's black slacks in the other hand only accentuated his tapered waist and were held in place by a pair of dark green suspenders. The pants stopped just shy of his ankle, clearly too short for the towering man. His feet were bare but even they seemed sternly elegant and promised swiftness.

"I know, mortal, even without my magic I am still godly," Loki gave a light chuckle that had a hidden snarky note to it. And for once, Tony had no real comeback – Loki was simply right, it was a miracle that anyone had ever mistaken him for being anything less.

"Yeah, yeah, Prima Dona," Tony recovered quickly, waving off his obvious slip. "Follow me and I'll show you around."

It was certainly intimidating, having the God of Lies not two steps behind you and standing nearly a foot taller, but Tony clenched his fists and pressed on.

"Well, not to be redundant, but this is your room, bed and bathroom and furniture all included."

Loki looked around, taking in the tall ceilings and large bay windows that provided a dull view of the desert. He silently considered the landscape before facing the billionaire once more, his hands clasped regally behind his back.

"Yes, shall we proceed?" Loki's tone not kind but it wasn't rude either, instead just all-business. Tony suddenly wondered just who was giving the tour.

. . . . .

Bruce Banner felt a chill race down his spine, skittering through his nerves, and it was certainly not from the amazing air conditioning that Stark had installed – it probably had something to do with a particular villain beside him.

"What," Loki drawled as he leaned forward from behind the couch, "is that?"

The scientist shifted in his seat, his hand suddenly slick against the TV remote. He was about half way through a documentary about the Soviet Union, not really paying attention, rather allowing his mind to wander. But now, Bruce followed the trickster's stare back to the television where a map of Russian was transposed over images of soviets, riots, and old buildings were displayed. Meanwhile, the narrator droned on about communism and economic instability.

"Hey," Tony's face popped in on the other side of Bruce's peripherals. "Sorry, we're sort of on a tour right now, didn't mean to sneak up on you."

The billionaire continued to chatter but Bruce felt himself unconsciously pulling away, focusing his attention of the other man. Loki's brows were drawn slightly as if confused yet also in awe, as if he was unsure about what he was seeing but nonetheless intrigued.

"It's a television," Bruce replied in a quiet voice. Loki stirred slightly, only enough to turn a clever eye on him briefly before returning to the screen. Tony was still talking.

"Oh," Loki exhaled, just as quietly. He continued to stare, still obviously confused, but said no more.

"-but, really I just wanted to tell you so that way when you see him around you don't get freaked out," Tony concluded. Bruce caught that last bit, however.

"You're giving him free reign?" he frowned back. "I'm not sure full access would be the best idea, all things considered."

Tony's eyes flicked over to the Liesmith then back to Banner, "Don't worry. He and I worked out a deal – he stays here where we can keep an eye on him, and in return no killing or maiming or – well you get the picture."

Bruce considered Tony's words and then slowly got to his feet, standing eye to eye with Stark.

"Yeah, I think I do," he brushed past Tony, adding as an afterthought, "I just hope you know what you're doing."

. . . . .

"I do hope you know what you're doing."

Loki Laufeyson stared skeptically – it seemed to be his favorite type of staring – at Tony, who meanwhile was in the compromising position of fixing his suit's flight stabilizers, the mechanical arm locked in place on the workshop table.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people," Tony tsked, clicking his tongue scoldingly. He was surprised to see the Liesmith standing, entirely out of place, in the middle of his workshop at nearly four in the morning.

It had been about a little more than a week since the trickster's recent grant of freedom, however Loki was loathe to exert it. At first, Thor had been the only one to worry, constantly pacing and starting as if he was going to go check on his brother, but clearly thinking better of it.

"Are you certain he is well? Perhaps one of us ought to see and bring back confirmation," Thor had said during one of his many pacing routines. Bruce glanced up from his book, but seemed to sink lower into the kitchen chair.

Tony had assured the Thunder God that Loki was fine and to give him space – things would work themselves out.

And low and behold, they started to. It was subtle at first, the disappearance of food, but it also became increasingly more stable. Instead of the usual one box, Tony started buying two Captain Crunches, one Barton would eat every morning, the other would be gone with the few hours of being in the pantry.

So then, Tony had decided to have a trial run for his theory – he moved the cereal box. First, he tried hiding it under the couch and stayed in the main room as much as he could, but as soon as Tony had left and returned, the box was gone. Then, he tried a little less concealment and more placement. He moved it over to the end table, just beside the balcony windows, and stuck a little note on it that read: Hi! Miss me?

When the billionaire got the same result – missing box but still no Loki sighting – he tried something a bit bolder. Tony set the box right on his workbench, practically on top of all his notes and schematics, the Captain's too happy face smiling up at him.

This time, he'd get results.

Loki had been quiet, that was to be sure, but JARVIS was no match for the trickster, especially without magic to cloak himself.

"Looking for something?"

Tony could practically feel Loki's cringe. The Jotun had made in halfway into the lab, so stealthily that without the butler AI, he might've just had a chance to escape with the prized breakfast. But not this time.

Now Loki approached, still quietly, but not in a forced way.

"Yes, I am, two things actually and I seem to have found them in the same place," Loki scowled. "I demand to know precisely why you insist on playing this childish game, Tony Stark."

With his own smirk, Tony whirled around in his desk chair and tried to look disarming. His winning smile was clearly having little effect on the God of Mischief.

"Had to find some way to get you out of that room," Stark shrugged, "besides, I wondered if you had figured it out yet. Somehow, I didn't think you'd disappoint."

The room became still as Tony extended the cereal box out to Loki, who in turn was watching him suspiciously, like a wounded animal regards a human. And really, there was no better metaphor; Tony was giving, hoping not to be bitten, and Loki meeting him, hoping not to be betrayed.

Loki reached for the cereal, his long fingers unfurling only to clench to cardboard. When he pulled though, Tony hadn't let go yet. Their eyes met, time paused and swelled, the silence hit its crescendo.

Then Tony let go.

"You did not answer whether or not you know what you are doing," Loki sharp comment drew the billionaire back to the present, only to glance down at his mess of the suit's arm. Wires were sticking out at every angle from a rather grotesque looking hole.

"Yeah, sure," Stark tried to shrug, "but, I don't suppose you wouldn't holding those two wires – yup the green and red – out of the way?"

Loki said nothing, as was becoming the usual, and spoke with his actions. Tony had once got the feeling that Loki had wanted to talk, but it simply that he just didn't, save for the few snide remarks here and there.

Since that fateful cereal night, Loki had made a handful of quick visits, always in the early hours of morning, just before dawn, staying long enough only to ask a few questions or help out with some project Tony had been working furiously on, of course adding his twist of snark and sarcasm. And then, after an hour or so, the trickster would take his leave, as if his craving for some kind of company had been fulfilled.

This night/morning would prove no different, Tony was certain, but here and now, having the trickster's company, however brief, was suddenly enough for him too.