A/N: It took me some time, but here it is, chapter four! I'll try to not to make a habit of stalling.
And thanks for the feedback, it's always superb - and I swear, this story will have a plot somewhere at some point.
At least I hope so.
Tony hadn't left the Tower once the whole day.
He had hung up the first twenty-something phone calls he'd received, then continued with ignoring the ring of his phone through most of the day. He had also chosen not to go to any of the meetings he'd had scheduled with his clients, and had practically shouted out anyone who made the mistake of finding their way onto the top floors. By the time of afternoon Tony had basically done everything yet practically nothing, including three explosions (of which one was intended), one small fire in the kitchen he never used, hours spent organizing his messy workshop only to return less than half an hour later to make twice the mess, and - after answering to Steve's fifth phone call and earning himself the beginnings of a therapeutic lecture - one phone thrown from his balcony with every intention of it hitting someone in the head.
It was very soon after that when Tony had given up and decided to go back to sleep. Properly this time, in an actual bed.
The thing is, he had been woken up after apparently being unconscious for an undefined amount of time by no other than Pepper slapping him hard in the face, his head spinning, stomach wanting to return the only dinner he'd eaten the previous day, colourful dots making it so much harder to see properly - all the while Pepper repeatedly demanding what the hell had happened.
Come to think of it, there'd been a long period in his life when that was the state he found himself most mornings, but that was a total different deal.
Now, Tony had felt angry the second he'd gotten his mind back together, basically wanting to stand up and declare war on all the nations of the world, his personal jihad against the globe - and would have, had his head not started pounding and his vision gotten black once he'd attempted to move, only managing to groan and lie back down on the floor of his office. So he'd settled for silently cursing one or two fucked-up gods in his mind.
He'd had every right to hate everything at that particular moment, but the thing that made him angry with himself was that as soon as he'd found his ability to speak again, he'd mumbled to Pepper that it's alright, he had just accidentally caused an overload in the systems and gotten himself a shock, that's all.
Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. What reason did he have to lie to Pepper who always saw right through him anyway? She was strong, always in control of herself and smart, oh, so smart she made Tony feel like such a kid all over again. So no, she hadn't exactly looked like she'd bought it, and frankly, he would've been somewhat disappointed if she had, but Pepper was the kind of person who knew Tony of all people would have a reason if he lied to her, and didn't question it. She had, of course, looked slightly worried, but mostly with that look on her face that told she wanted to know what she could do. Forever in control, Tony had mused to himself and given her a small, sincere smile that, if anything, made her look even more concerned.
It'd seemed that Pepper had been the first to respond to the alarm because the guys from security never arrived. After he'd waved off her insistence on getting him into medical care, they'd struggled trying to hinge Tony back to bed. They'd failed miserably; he had ended up sleeping it off on a couch that turned out to be so unbelievably uncomfortable he'd chucked it out first thing in the morning.
It had been the beginning of what turned out to be an apocalypse of a day.
When Tony woke up from his nap during the day it was already well past five pm.
He groaned and stretched in his bed, tired, but amazingly felt a lot more in control of himself than earlier, less angry even. All things considered, he was on a better mood - everything he'd done earlier was a bit of a blur. Now that he had his head back together, he had, from the moment he woke up, the familiar burning urge to immediately get efficient, and he went straight from bed back down to his main workshop where Dummy had done poor job cleaning up the mess he'd left behind. He decided not to bother with it.
"Jarvis, wake up, chop chop!" Tony called, waking up the computers as he went and made himself at home behind the screens.
"Yes, sir," came the ever ready response.
"Good, show me the video feed from last night and our little visitor," he said, making a face on the last word.
"Sir, I believe your visitor blocked all of the surveillance as he arrived."
"You're not serious," Tony mocked disapprovingly and started typing away on three different keyboards, searching for the obvious loopholes in the systems. "He can't have blocked the entire system, I designed it. Now revive the database, let's see what we've got."
"Already doing it, sir."
It took a few minutes but the rest of the screens flickered alive and statistics and surveillance scans started pouring onto each of them. Tony did a couple spins on his chair as he checked through them, making mental notes of the restored data.
"Narrow it down."
The feed became more selected, Jarvis searching for the time of the intrusion.
"That's it, the first glitch" Tony launched himself forwards and watched four different angles of a figure approaching the main entrance of the Tower. "And here he is, that was about-?"
"01:05 am."
"And then? The whole security just, what, failed and no alarm went off? You know it's not supposed to do that," he followed the figure's movements, chewing on a pencil, transfixed as the god was seen lingering at the entrance but Tony couldn't make out what it was he was actually doing to get in.
"All surveillance was blocked and bypassed, sir."
"Not possible."
"It seems that Mr. Laufeyson is in possession of powers you, sir, have yet to discover."
"Yes, thank you," Tony sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair before leaning back in his chair. "What happened to you, then?"
"I revived myself."
"Took your time with it, too, I see."
The pictures on the screens varied, focusing on the moves of the intruder. Tony's eyes narrowed at the sight of him entering the lobby. It wasn't at all surprising that he got in, just like that, but what made Tony grit his teeth was the way how comfortable Loki looked swaggering his way around inside his building. Of course he also seemed more or less cautious, but at the same time he came across as random, so calm as if it was OK for him to just walk in there all tourist-y.
Which it wasn't. It most definitely wasn't OK.
He did snort though, as it was visible even through the screens that Loki was a bit hesitant before stepping inside the elevator. Tony searched the statistics feed of the elevator and frowned as it worked most normally, even though in such situation it was crucial it wouldn't.
"Were you stalling?" he muttered in disbelief but the AI didn't answer.
Because the elevator supported a dim light through night and day, Tony he had the chance to properly see Loki and confirm that yes, Rock of Ages was indeed back and the incident the night before wasn't just something he'd imagined. He didn't quite know what to make of that, but he was growing more and more annoyed by the minute just from watching Loki.
That was, if he wasn't too focused on taking in the god's appearance.
Just for a second Tony had to consider if it was Loki at all, and not some crazy new-yorkian who looked exactly like him, save the hair, but he had to scratch that thought immediately. Loki breaking, no, walking into the most secure building in Manhattan Tony could still take without getting too desperate, but just an ordinary bloke on a midnight stroll? It'd be way too much for him to cope with. Still, Tony had to take a second look because of Loki's clothes. He wasn't too proud to be practically gaping at the screen, but who would've thought that a god would come down on Earth to do some shopping? And Loki looked exactly like he'd stepped right out of a page of Vogue. Everything about him screamed expensive, and the jacket only confirmed Tony's speculations that he really did have a fixation on leather.
It all made everything so much more suspicious. How long exactly had Loki been there, on Earth? He was the last person Tony would've ever expected to be seen wearing human clothes, so of course it made him feel like something was definitely going on. He watched Loki playing around with the elevator, clearly searching for something in the building, and the frown on Tony's face only deepened.
"Jarvis, what were you doing?"
"Mr. Laufeyson is considered on the top of SHIELD's list of most dangerous people-"
"All the more reason-"
"It would be worth knowing his intentions, sir."
"So you just let him further inside?" Tony complained, but all the same knew that Jarvis had a point. He always had. "He could've come and killed me, you know."
"He showed no sign of hostile intentions."
"Yeah, team up with him then, why don't you," he muttered under his breath and then made a noise of annoyance, "He's got his hands all over my stuff!"
The sight of Loki fiddling with the pictures on the wall of his private office made Tony even more appalled - he didn't need anyone putting their nose in his past, present or future for that matter. Then he started considering the horrible idea of what if Loki'd come back? He had confessed he was after something, but would he really be that arrogant to try again? Maybe he should keep a gun in hand because if Loki was back one couldn't be too cautious. "Did he take anything?"
"No, sir."
Tony tried to decipher Loki's movements in the office to find out what it was he'd been looking for, but the guy was a big mystery, only looking around. And if the visit had left him more or less empty-handed, it was only likely he'd be back. The idea was unwelcome in every possible way.
"Ok, we need to find the weak links in the database."
Jarvis hesitated a fraction of a second. "There are none."
"Well let's find a way to reinforce everything, mainframe, surveillance, alarms, locks, even the fucking air-conditioning if you like," Tony snapped, wanting nothing more than rip off his own head and kick it. It had ached the whole day and he craved for coffee.
"Sir-"
"I know!"
Tony did know that anything he could do was well worth nothing if Loki decided to come back to take a second look. The idea made him feel mad and vulnerable - he was most definitely going to sleep with a gun less than two feet away that night. Nevertheless, Tony's annoyance managed to ease just a bit as he saw, on the screens, as Loki jumped and twirled around in panic. He started laughing, "Did we scare him there?"
"He did show some level of distress, yes."
Tony huffed in amusement, then watched himself enter the stage. He leaned forward in anticipation. What exactly did the god do to him? Then, he suppressed a groan - it looked like child's play the way Loki had him so easily pushed against a wall, it was ridiculous how fast he'd moved. What followed seemed only like a press of fingers to Tony, and he felt himself just a bit violated because of it. How was he to know what kind of voodoo Loki had casted on him?
Tony leered at the screen, fiddling with his hair as he was seen falling onto the floor very unceremoniously. "Ugh, god."
"Indeed, sir."
As much as Tony would've wanted to look away and shut the program down, he did, however, keep his eyes fixed on the screen, on Loki. It was odd, the god seemed to drop his guard the moment Tony blacked out, allowing himself to look half distressed and half mad. So he wasn't always as impassive as it would appear. Tony found that rather interesting, because what exactly did they know about him there? Thor had had very few words on the subject, obviously being careful of what he told them - maybe because of some unfinished business in Asgrad, maybe out of respect towards his brother, who knew. Anyway, SHIELDs files on Loki were quite thin on information, so it was some pleasure for Tony to see him there, looking worried about the situation.
And then Loki was seen watching him.
"What," Tony blurted out as he watched the god watching him, kneeling down beside him on the floor. "What?" He gaped and subconsciously brought his hand to the arc reactor in protective manner upon seeing the other one touching it. What the hell was Loki doing?
Of course he should've guessed the reactor would attract interest, but to think of how easy it would've been for Loki to finish him off right then and there was terrifying. Angrily, he watched as the reactor was examined through his shirt, careful fingers running across his chest. And then there was the god's face. Tony could see all those emotions, confusion, disbelief and pure interest. He saw those hands twitch and for a moment he thought Loki would take the reactor out, but the fingers didn't make a move to remove his shirt. Loki let his hands fall and the next moment he was out of the door. Looking more confident.
"Oh, I do feel violated," Tony groaned and turned away from the screens. He was afraid the arc reactor to Loki had been pretty much what a twinkie would've been to a kid to follow into a candy-shop. Everything about that equation screamed catastrophe. There would be some sleepless nights ahead for sure.
"Sir, shall we contact SHIELD?"
Tony woke up from the swell of his thoughts.
"We should," Tony agreed, uncertain. "But let's not. I need a word with Thor first."
He didn't exactly want to have any unnecessary dealings with SHIELD at the moment, so he decided to wait at least 24 hours more. His grand hope was that Thor would arrive out of nowhere with the goofy smile of his and offer him the obvious explanation that Tony couldn't quite figure out himself. If Thor didn't show up and Loki would, there might still be a chance he'd get the answers out of the god by himself, then run to Fury. If there'd be neither of them in sight, Tony would still run to Fury and most likely get his head ripped off for stalling.
Coffee.
"Sir, Captain Rogers is on his way up."
"Oh."
Tony really couldn't complain to Jarvis for letting Steve in - all the guys had their key-codes to get around -, but even if he had calmed down from earlier he wasn't exactly on a social mood, and Steve tended to bring out the worst of him.
Then he saw the two large take-away coffees Steve held in his hands through the class door. So he waved him in.
"Morning!" Tony cheered and got up, quickly closing the program on the screens and opening an older project instead. Steve gave him a look that reflected both amusement and disapproval.
"It's six o'clock, Tony."
"I'm just getting started," he flashed a tight smile at Steve. All the puppiness in Steve's eyes always made him feel bad for yelling at him, and he'd been a bit harsh on the phone to say the least. So he took the coffee, the peace-offering that was handed to him. "Ah, coffee! You know me too well."
"You know, it's odd how you can save your life in any situation with a box of scrap-metal but you can't get around making yourself a cup of coffee," Steve smiled in good spirit, but was still a bit tense and awkward around Tony. In a kicked puppy kind of way.
"I did try, I swear," Tony assured and started modifying the blueprints of his project, suddenly inspired by the sip of coffee. "Didn't work out."
"Mr. Stark's coffee-maker caught fire earlier today."
Steve laughed, which was always nice in Tony's mind, even if at his own expense. The two of them managed to rub each other the wrong way quite a bit, even though they didn't really see each other that much. In the end they were very similar, and their bickering aside they both knew they could always count on the other when necessary - their relationship just needed some working on, that's all.
Probably that in mind, Steve stayed just for a bit, Tony more than happy to show him the designs of the rooms for the team. They worked on some ideas of what needed to be added to the training room, what Steve wanted, even though they both knew it already had everything. Then Tony left him work on other ideas for his own room while he was working on his other project. They even joked about what they definitely should add secretly into the other members' rooms, and even though it was Steve who was joking, Tony was already planning ahead - maybe he'd return to that idea later. In the end it was all time well spent, and on some level Tony knew he really had needed the company.
"Are you ever going to get started on the reconstruction upstairs?" Steve asked knowingly as he was leaving later that night.
Tony grimaced. The big hole in his penthouse wall had unfortunately become a common joke among, well, the people in Manhattan - Tony Stark, a genius who could build everything from anything, slower to fix his own building than the constructors of New York were fixing an entire city. He had had the support structure put up ages ago, but somehow he hadn't gotten around to actually get it repair it in whole. He was all too well aware it'd been months.
He settled for just giving Steve a look. "Where you up to, then?"
"Just back to Brooklyn I guess, taking it easy," he said, and even though Tony didn't say anything, he could understand Steve's fixation in his hometown. "You should try it sometime."
"What, Brooklyn?"
Steve gave a laugh and shook his head. "No, I mean calming down."
Tony nodded but didn't really get it. He'd been doing pretty much nothing lately, but of course he was always going to places. It was settling down that sounded frightening to him. "Sure thing, Cap."
He smiled and turned to leave. "See you around then, Tony."
"Yeah," Tony muttered as he stared at a problem he got on hand, then gave Steve a last look. "And hey, sorry about earlier," Steve turned and looked at him questioningly. "You know, for yelling at you." It had turned out to be impossible to bitch about something at Steve and then not apologize for it, and it really drove Tony off the wall. He'd always been bad at apologizing to anyone.
"It's OK, you know I-" Steve started but was cut of by a ring of a phone.
didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-dii
Tony looked around, frowning. "What's that?"
Everything about Steve's face screamed guilty and the look Tony gave him made him squirm on his feet. "Um, my phone, I-"
didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-dii
"Wait, what, is that a-," Tony stood up and snatched the phone from the man's pocket before he could react. "A NOKIA, STEVE?"
"Look, Tony-"
didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-didi-dii-dii-dii
"What happened to the phone I sent you?" Tony deadpanned, staring at the hideous device that was still ringing in his hand.
"It's good an all, but this one's so much simpler and much less fragile and I -"
"My phones got everything in them! And they're not that fragile, you know I can always send you a new one if it breaks down-"
"You shouted at Clint for two straight hours the last time he broke one."
"Oh, come on, the guy's obviously trying to break a record!"
Steve didn't listen but took his phone back from him. Taking a one look at it he decided not to answer, but gave Tony an apologetic look, "I've got to go."
"Off you go then," Tony muttered, already returning his attention to his work.
"Take care, Tony."
"Yeah, whatever."
The late evening in New York was already considerably colder than the night before, and it was something Loki enjoyed in spite of himself. In a way, cold had always soothed him, but he was also a lot less willing to admit it these days than he had some time ago. Not too difficult for one to figure out why.
He was sitting on a bench in a large, popular park in the middle of the city, and even though it was somehow pretty, it had nothing on the recreational sites in Asgard. But pretty, yes, Loki could give them that. Many other people seemed to think so too, and Loki could spot more than one set of lovers from the corner of his eye, defying the high criminal records of the city.
Loki had been feeling awfully confused and annoyed the whole day. He had no idea what had been going on in the Stark Tower, why he hadn't noticed the obvious watcher in the background, let alone bypass it. He had decided it best to leave and return later, again after waiting until the pitch-black darkness of the night, but the more he waited the more he realized the uselessness of it - if he couldn't fully cover for himself he might as well as just walk in. Still, the wait had been somewhat necessary because he assumed there would be a lot less people in the building the later the time was.
But soon enough Loki was back on his feet, not willing to just sit around anymore. He didn't dare to check on his wound - he knew perfectly well it'd appear even more hideous then than it had before. He wasn't in need of sleep nearly as often as humans, but his body was demanding rest that Loki couldn't get. He didn't exactly have a place to go.
So Loki did just what he needed to do to ease his boredom and alter his concentration from the bruising: he walked straight back into the Stark Tower - without bothering to override all of the security this time, only enough to get in without setting off the alarm. He made his way to the elevator in a very arrogant manner, heading for the heavy machinery first with Stark's armour in mind. Loki was keeping his guard, constantly looking over his shoulders, waiting for the moment Stark would again join him, but he wasn't too concerned - he had his weapons close enough. Stark would hardly be any match for him unless he'd put on the suit. Loki could afford thinking about that later, at the moment he just felt angry and a bit reckless, especially while aware that he must have been again closely watched.
It didn't take long for him to get to Stark's workshop, a massive space with everything from scribbles on paper and doodles on serviettes to various projects that had already achieved a physical form. For a moment Loki stood at the doorway in awe. Science, he was aware, was the humankind's strong point and the very end of their achievable imagination, but the floor he'd just entered was full of something he'd never seen before, not on Earth. It was impressive even considering Loki had absolutely no idea what he was looking at. Chaos, obviously, but genius too. He was immediately intrigued about the purpose of all the machinery in there, how it all worked. His hand twitched to get hold of the most complicated looking pieces of inventions, but Loki settled for just looking around for a while. When nothing alarming happened, he eased slightly. Then he turned and saw an lightened wall around a corner, occupied by Stark's armour.
No, armours. There were quite a few of them, all lined inside the wall in a neat row behind glass screens. Loki could easily spot the process of development in each. Even with a quick look, though, he knew that those in front of him weren't all there were - Stark would most likely have a current one upstairs, the ones he was looking at were more for show, apparently. The thought got Loki a bit more vexed than he already was, and he could only hope Stark wouldn't favour rational thinking that particular night and would come down without the suit.
Unconcerned, Loki started examining some designs lying around for apparent future purposes, trying to figure out how the unfinished gauntlets worked in the end. Being unfinished, they were bare, the design exposed, but Loki still had hard time understanding the mechanism. Scanning it revealed it didn't carry an individual power source of its own, and none of the other bits and pieces did either, so all the power must've come from Stark himself.
Loki had barely been in the building half an hour, flipping through sketches, basically absorbing all the information on the suit he could get when he suddenly heard someone approaching, just a bit too late to prepare himself.
"You know, I don't think you quite understood last night but you're not exactly welcomed here."
Loki turned around with pages of sketches in his hands, and gained considerable amount of confidence upon seeing Stark standing in the middle of the room without his armour on. He smiled at the man, instantly receiving a disapproving leer from him.
"I believe I do understand," Loki answered, already directing his attention back to a blueprint he'd discovered from under all the other mess, making a clear point in carelessness.
"Well I don't," the man pointed out unnecessarily, waving his hand in Loki's direction. Much more composed than the night before Stark took a few steps forward in a fearless manner, clearing his throat. "Where's Thor?"
Loki huffed but hesitated a mere second, "He's busy."
He did make a mental note on the fact that Stark appeared looking rather .. dangerous, for the lack of a better word. Loki lowered whatever papers he held in his hands back onto the table, just to ease his own position. Clearly the man didn't wish his property being touched. Apparently, Stark hadn't yet made it to bed, and was also looking far smarter this time around. Loki took a one look at a mug Stark was holding, supposed it held coffee inside, but couldn't pass the fact that the reek of alcohol had reached his senses before Stark's voice had.
Loki received a stern, questioning look from Stark, and he sighed, pained. "I do not know where he is, it's hardly of my concern."
Only halfway a lie. He didn't know where it was Thor had last landed, but it wouldn't be quick work trying to make his way through realms. Nevertheless, Loki would rather prefer knowing of his movements, and it was something he was more or less concerned about. But not a word had yet reached Midgard. That was good to know.
Stark emptied the mug and twiddled it around in his hands before approaching and placing it onto the table. The smell of alcohol now filled the air between them. "Why are you here?"
Oddly enough, Loki wasn't really paying much attention. His eyes were drawn to the center of Stark's chest, the light gleam obvious through his buttoned white shirt. He had yet to figure that one out, and it was getting the best of him, the lack of knowledge of something so peculiar. Unfortunately, his staring didn't go unnoticed.
"Sorry, but there's only one or two ways you're gonna get a shirt off me, and it's definitely not by staring at it."
It wasn't exactly regret that imprinted itself on Stark's face next, but most definitely something of sorts, because Loki was rather intrigued by the meaning behind those words, even if unintentionally. And it must've shown in his eyes, too.
"I'm sure," he responded plainly and started again fiddling with the unfinished gauntlet on the desk. He could sense Stark's posture tensing in annoyance.
"I don't suppose you could just hand me the design of that device of yours?" Loki murmured, and was rather surprised when Stark flashed him a bitter smile.
"You still wouldn't understand it."
It was the arrogance and the mocking tone of Stark's voice that got to Loki's nerves way too easily, and soon enough his hands were already gripping the front of the man's shirt, pulling him forwards with painful force. "Then tell me," he practically growled at Stark's face, but the fact that he didn't see a moment of hesitation in his eyes only fed Loki's anger.
Then a loud bang echoed around the whole floor and a quick flash of dulled pain landed itself on Loki's right knee.
He gasped, taken by surprise, and would've fallen to the floor had he not gotten a grip of the table next to him. His other hand pressed his knee but no blood was coming out of the bullet wound. Loki lifted his head and saw Stark still standing before him with a gun in his hand. The man looked stressed and angry but it was nothing on how Loki felt.
"You shot me!" he growled, rather unnecessarily.
"What did you expect?"
"You - you barbarian!" Loki exclaimed, wanting nothing more than to rip apart the man before him, but he was too shocked by the fact that yes, a bullet had just went through his flesh, just like that.
Stark's hands were physically shaking, but he didn't let go of the gun. The man looked very much unstable, only confirming Loki's suspicions that Stark was more or less slightly drunk.
"I think you should leave," was all the man said in the end, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Loki met his eyes in disbelief and let out an angry breath. "You'd just let me?"
The look on Stark's face reflected confusion of sorts, and Loki realized he hadn't even intended to confine him. He was staring at Loki's knee, unconvinced and very much un-understanding. It was obvious Stark considered what exactly was right and what was wrong, and didn't seem to get anywhere.
"If you're not going to leave, I'll just have to take you in."
"I'd like to see you try," was all Loki managed to spit in response from his anger. Stark didn't get a chance to answer.
"Sir, I have SHIELD on the line."
Loki was all too well aware he flinched upon hearing the unfamiliar voice once again. It even made Stark appear more restless, probably for different reasons. Loki watched him turning to point the gun at him while making a few adjustments on the nearest computer.
"What do they want?"
"There's a fire downtown, sir."
"Well I'm not exactly a firefighter, am I?" Stark snapped at plain air, "Jesus, tell them to phone the fire department."
"They also have a man with flamethrowers making his way through the city, sir."
Stark took a deep breath, eyes closed, obviously trying to not have a breakdown right then and there. It gave Loki surprising amount of pleasure to see the man at the end of his wits like that. He only snorted but didn't dare to move - he had no idea what damage the bullet had done and there was no way he'd voluntarily show any more signs of weakness in front of Stark of all people. He did feel himself already healing, which was a relief of sorts.
"Fucking Christ, OK, I'll be there in five minutes."
Loki's eyes snapped back to Stark's who was watching him, measuring.
"You have four minutes to get the fuck out," the man muttered, already putting the gun away into the back of his trousers. "When I get back, you better not be here."
And just like that, Stark made his way through the mess of a floor to the elevator. Loki let out a stressed breath, slumping down to the nearest chair as soon as Stark was out of sight. Quickly he examined whatever damage the bullet had done to him. Luckily, it had gone straight through and it didn't exactly hurt, more in an annoying burn kind of way. Truth to be told, it shouldn't have even done that, so he suspected what Stark had was more than just an ordinary gun. Just a lucky shot.
Why Stark hadn't even made a move to capture him was beyond Loki. Maybe he suspected he could get some answers out of Loki in the end. Probably wouldn't, but it was obvious that Loki would keep coming back. Idiotic, basically, from both of them.
"Sir, you have three minutes to leave the premises."
Loki bit his tongue before he would let out a childish response of or what, but he knew he'd be back as soon as Stark would be. He had no idea what'd happen if he stayed there right then. And he certainly needed a different approach on the matter.
And flamethrowers versus a drunken billionaire sounded like good enough entertainment for the night.
