"So." Bruce cracked a small smile. "Tell me about your childhood."

Loki collapsed on the nearby couch with the appropriate amount of dramatic flair, placing the back of his hand against his forehead. "Well, you see, Doctor… it all began… when I was born."

Bruce threw his head back laughing, and after a moment or two of maintaining a serious face, Loki joined him.

"Cut!"

"I didn't ask what Asgard thought of books, I asked what you thought of books." Bruce set down the papers and began to tick off a long list on his fingers. "There are mysteries, action and adventure, horror, suspense, biographies, autobiographies, fiction, historical, historical fiction, vampire romance novels that present abuse as romance, porn novels that present abuse as romance, science fiction, fantasy… oh, sorry. Did I go a little off-script there?"

Loki blinked slowly, looked toward the cameramen, and then back at Bruce. "I… have no idea what just happened."

Bruce only laughed.

"Cut!"

Loki wasn't sure how to take that the right way. "I did." He paused, recalling the state he had woken up in the day before. "I felt clean whenever I woke up yesterday, and then I showered in the evening. Still, I have spent two years in prison—there is only so much water can do."

"Soap isn't working?"

There was a moment of silence.

Loki blinked. "Pardon?"

Bruce blinked. "Soap?"

"I am…" Loki squinted and shook his head, folding his arms over his chest. "Are you absolutely sure this is what I said to you?"

Bruce chuckled softly and nodded his head. "Yes, Loki. What I wrote in the script is exactly what you said to me."

"Well, perhaps I was joking, and you simply didn't realize…"

"You looked at me and, with a very serious expression on your face, said to me, verbatim, 'I am unfamiliar with the workings of your soap.'"

Loki stared at him for a moment, and then he dropped his head with a heavy sigh. He unfolded his arms to bring his hands up to his face, a quiet groan escaping him. "I can't believe I said that… It sounds so stupid in retrospect."

"I thought it was hysterical."

"Shut up, Bruce."

"Cut!"

Loki raised an eyebrow. "You would have to elaborate."

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "There are lots of different crafting hobbies. Leatherworking, woodworking, whittling, paper crafting, and I know I'm missing some of these… I hate this list. What is it again?"

"Cut!"

Loki raised an eyebrow. "You would have to elaborate."

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "There are lots of different crafting hobbies. Leatherworking, woodwhittling—wood, woodworking, dagnabbit."

Loki laughed. "Woodwhittling."

"Cut!"

Loki raised an eyebrow. "You would have to elaborate."

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "There are lots of different crafting hobbies. Leatherworking, woodworking, whittling, metalworking, model building, paper crafting, and even letter writing or calligraphy could all technically count as kinds of crafting."

Your questions make no sense. Loki was, of course, interested in crafting things. Magic itself was a kind of craft, though many on Asgard would beg to differ. But I am a war criminal, not a guest.

"They are all familiar terms." Well, that was a lie. "However, all of them are—none of them would—none of them are of any interest to me. Are we able to use any of that?"

"No, we have to retake," one of the stagehands replied.

Bruce threw his hands up. "Are you kidding me? I finally got my stupid monologue right, and you screwed up your one-line reply?"

Loki pouted childishly. "It's not like I tried to. And I did try to correct it, the cameras simply didn't cooperate."

Bruce deadpanned. "You're blaming the cameras for not properly recording your mistake so it could be edited out by other people?"

"Exactly." Loki closed his eyes and gave a single, indignant nod.

"You're unbelievable." Bruce let his head fall against the back of the couch.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Cut!"

It felt like an eternity had passed before the door finally unlocked, and Loki quickly got to his feet, trying and failing to hide his eagerness. He turned toward the door and took two steps before coming to an immediate halt, his entire body turning to stone.

"Not so fast, Reindeer Games."

Steve jumped out from behind Tony. "Dun, dun, duuuuuuuun!"

Tony mimed a microphone under his mouth. "Next week on Living With Loki…"

Loki groaned and put his head in his hands.

"Cut!"

Shrugging, Tony flipped the case open to reveal a long row of tubes and syringes. "Well, we could just let you die, but where's the fun in that?"

"Oh, so you do intend to have fun." Loki arched his eyebrows, using the opening to try and regain some of his former aloofness. "I didn't realize this was that kind of an arrangement, Anthony."

"I mean, it wasn't part of the plan, but I'm a pretty flexible guy."

"I prefer firm over flexible, thank you."

"I've seen what's in your pants, and I gotta say, I find that hard to believe."

"Enough, both of you." Steve stepped in, drawing his arm down between the two men and giving them each a long, hard stare. "Even if this were the time and place for a contest, I've got you both beat, so just knock it off, okay?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Say that to my face, Spangles!"

Bruce massaged his forehead and sighed, walking toward the exit. "They'll be at this a while. I'm taking a coffee break."

"Cut!"

Bruce's laughter interrupted them all. He sat down on the table and rolled up Loki's sleeve. "How about we focus on the medical records for now?" Still chuckling to himself, he went to tie a strip of rubber around Loki's arm, dropping one end by mistake. He grabbed it again...

…and dropped it again.

"You need some help there?"

Bruce didn't break character. "I'll get it." He tried again, and he managed to wrap it around Loki's bicep, but when he went to tie it, it slipped between his fingers again. "Are you kidding me?"

"Cut!"