"Well, isn't that touching," Ross drawled, standing in the doorway, fuming.

"I'm glad you think so," Loki responded, smiling. "Was there something you wanted?

Ross strode over and grabbed Loki, one hand going for his throat.

"You think you've won, don't you? I just got orders to back off of your brat and Banner. Let me tell you something, you little bastard. I don't give up. My first priority will always be my country and it's army. This is not over!"

Loki broke away, sending Ross staggering back a bit.

"Why, General, that sounds like a challenge! So, do you agree to a sparring match? Non-deadly weapons, even straight fisticuffs, only?"

"Does your magic qualify as non-deadly," Ross sneered.

"Oh, no! No magic allowed," Loki promised, grinning.

"You're on," Ross vowed. "Meet me in the sparring room in one hour. That oughta be enough time for you to find a baby-sitter for the little princeling."

Loki smiled blandly; he would get his revenge during the match.

"I'll be there, General. I look forward to it."

Loki left Clint with Thor once again, before heading to the gymnasium. He found the sparring room easily...a crowd was gathering, spilling out into the hallway. Natasha Romanov and Steve Rogers stood on the sidelines. They surprised Loki by giving him respectful nods, showing support for what he was doing, if not for himself. Loki nodded back, grateful for their presence.

Loki took his place in front of Ross, his eyes full of challenge. Director Fury stepped forward.

"I'm refereeing this match, gentlemen. Ross has informed me this is hand to hand, with no weapons, no magic, and no deadly force. That's agreed?"

"Yes, those are the terms," Loki agreed, politely.

"All right, then. If I call halt, you halt. Go!" Fury ordered, getting swiftly out of the way.

Ross immediately moved forward, his fist plowing towards Loki's jaw in a tight, controlled punch. Loki grinned, grabbing Ross' wrist and using the momentum to shove the general back. Loki followed swiftly, landing punches directly on the general's sides, though keeping the blows within human norms of speed. Ross grunted, but stepped into the blows, managing to sweep Loki across his shoulders and fling him to the ground.

Loki rolled across the floor, coming immediately to his feet and resuming a fighting stance. Ross approached and they circled each other warily, feinting back and forth. Loki darted forward, managing to feint left and deliver a hard blow to Ross' jaw, though it cost him a blow to his gut. Loki laughed breathlessly, using the doubled up position to tackle Ross to the ground.

Ross growled, trying to pin the slippery prince of Asgard, but Loki seemed almost serpentine, twisting and twitching away. Loki successfully used his legs to attack, delivering a round house blow to Ross' temple, splitting the skin. Ross snarled, landing heavily on the ground next to Loki. He got to his knees, grabbed Loki's arm, and attempted to twist it behind Loki's back.

Loki managed to leap to his feet, twisting around to face Ross. He grinned and drove a knee into the general's chest, knocking him onto his back. Ross rolled to his knees again, then sprang up, catching Loki in his midriff. Loki's head hit the floor with a harsh thud, making several agents wince. He tried to grab Ross around his shoulders, but the aging general could still move quickly, when needed. Ross drew up and managed to pin Loki, with a knee on his torso.

Loki reached up to slam his hands into Ross's face, but a flash of metal caught his eye. Ross thrust with a blade, an Asgardian blade, intending to drive it into Loki's heart. Loki had been holding back, but now he used his full strength and twisted to the side. Fortunately, the movement shifted the general's aim and twisted the knife sideways, away from the vital organs. The blade dug deep into Loki's side, making him give a surprised cry of pain. Bright red blood welled up from the wound. Earth metal did him very little damage, but this knife had wounded Loki.

Fury stepped forward, coming to Loki's aid, but Ross waved the knife at him, snarling.

"Get back. Do you even know what this fight is about? This man is an alien! He came here and he birthed some spawn, a killer, who could be used to help us, used to make this country stronger! Instead, we're pandering to Loki. Loki! I've spent my whole life defending this country. My whole life! Now, this twisted monster is daring to give me orders and keep me from my duty!" Ross raved.

Ross raised the knife again, intending to finish Loki. An arrow sailed through the room, landing in Ross' shoulder, knocking him backwards. He screamed and looked where the arrow had come from. Clint stood in the doorway, next to Thor and Natasha. Thor looked at Loki, at the blood on his brother, and began walking forward, his expression murderous. Natasha grabbed his arm, shaking her head in warning, when he glared down at her.

"Back down, General," Clint rasped, his weakness evident, but his aim unswerving.

"Clint, you shouldn't be out of bed," Loki wheezed, laughing a bit.

"Sir?" Clint directed at Fury, asking permission for a kill shot.

Fury nodded.

Ross switched the blade to his other hand, his expression determined and mad with hate.

"Look at all of you. You coddle monsters and ignore those who serve you. I'm a soldier in the U.S. Army! I follow orders. I protect your families. What has this man done, except destroy lives and stand in the way of what's necessary, what is right? Banner and that boy are just spawn, monsters who should be used for the greater good!"

"Monsters or not, that's my mother and I'll kill you, if you don't get away from him," Clint warned.

Ross raised the knife, preparing to hurl it at Loki and Fury nodded again. Clint Lokison let another arrow loose, this time sending it directly into Ross' eye. There were some gasps, but no signs of disapproval. Ross had been armed and warned. Thor strode forward, lifting and cradling Loki.

"Brother..." he began helplessly, irritated by his brother's laughter.

"Oh, don't worry so much, Thor," Loki advised. "I'll heal."

"Yeah, that really isn't funny," Clint responded, kneeling next to him. "Bet that hurts."

"Well, yes, I am a bit uncomfortable," Loki agreed, smiling.

"Let's see, if we can do something about that," Bruce offered. "Thor, can you bring him to the med bay? Come on, Clint, you aren't released yet, either."

Ignoring Loki's protests, Thor lifted him up, carrying him like a child, and followed Banner..

"I may be a mother, but I'm not some swooning maiden," Loki complained.

Clint staggered behind.

"How are you even hurt?" he asked. "I've seen you take bullets and heal up immediately."

"The knife was of Asgard," Loki explained.

"WHAT?" Thor shouted, regardless of the proximity of Loki's ear.

Despite his injury, Loki smacked Thor hard in the back of the head.

"Ow, Brother!" Thor protested, but his voice was quieter.

"I recognized the blade as Sif's. She must have lost it in the battle with the Destroyer. The general no doubt stole it from SHIELD's vaults," Loki explained, weakly.

"He wouldn't have access," Clint denied.

"I'm sure there are plenty who agree with him and who would be willing to aid him in killing my brother," Thor mused, angrily.

"Yeah, there might be," Clint acknowledged. SHIELD agents had a high rate of intense loyalty, but they were human and Loki had killed a lot of their friends.

Silence reigned, as they reached the medical bay. Banner stopped one door shy of Clint's room.

"Place your brother in here, Thor, then, if you don't mind, please see that Clint gets back to bed," Banner instructed, seeing that Clint was swiftly becoming exhausted, now that his adrenaline was fading.

"Of course, Bruce," Thor acknowledged, setting Loki carefully on the bed inside. Thor then gently grabbed the back of Loki's neck, pressing their foreheads together.

"Be well, brother. I'll come see you soon."

"Stay with Clint and you'll see me soon enough," Loki countered, though he didn't pull away and rested a hand lightly on Thor's arm.

Thor gave a small smile, shaking his head, before turning to assist his nephew, who was slumped in the doorway.

"You might want to get some rest yourself," Clint observed, a note of concern in his voice. "You're losing a lot of blood."

Loki waved his hand negligently.

"It's a flesh wound only. Dr. Banner will have it repaired swiftly enough."

As soon as Thor and Clint were gone, Loki magically stripped down to his waist, revealing the ugly damage done by the knife. There was some tearing, in addition to the stab wound, from where Loki had moved. Bruce cleaned the wound, carefully, while Loki looked on, a small smile on his face.

"Do you know anything about Earth anesthetics?" Bruce asked. "I'm not sure which will work on you or if your biology is different enough that they could harm you."

"I'm using magic to keep the pain at bay. It will suffice, while you apply bandages."

"Yeah, but this needs stitches, too. Damn. If bullets don't affect you, how is a needle going to?"

"Magic, Dr. Banner, always magic. I can weave a spell, that will keep the pain away and let your needles do their work," Loki assured him.

"That's handy," Banner acknowledged, beginning his work.

Loki nodded, his eyes never leaving Bruce. He'd studied the Avengers, both individually and as a group, during his invasion of Earth. Loki realized now, though, that his studies had been somewhat superficial. He had noticed them only as enemies, not as people.

Dr. Bruce Banner, Loki realized for the first time, was a very handsome man. Oh, he'd been slowly warming to the other man over the past few days, watching him take care of Clint. That, however, had been the gratitude of a mother. It was nothing to the warmth of interest that now spread through Loki's torso. He continued to study Bruce, as the good doctor stitched up and bandaged Loki's side. His movements were quick, but not rushed, precise, and designed to cause the least amount of pain.

Loki watched Bruce's movements, noting the long, clever fingers as they worked with needles, then bandages and tape. Bruce noted Loki's attention, staring up and receiving a friendly smile from the Asgardian. Bruce smiled awkwardly in return, blushing a bit. He stepped back and nodded at the now bandaged wound.

"That'll have to be cleaned twice a day. Um. In a human, I would say the stitches could come out in about ten to fourteen days. The puncture missed your organs, but you've lost a lot of blood. You need to keep still, in order to keep the stitches from breaking. You'll need to stay in bed for two or three days, then do light activity only after that," Bruce instructed.

"How much longer is Clint going to be here?" Loki asked.

"Well, fortunately, most of his wounds are superficial and the drugs seem well on their way to being out of his system. I want to keep him on observation for a few more days, then I'll release him to go back to Stark tower. I'll probably release him for duty in another week."

Loki nodded, the loss of blood catching up to him. Bruce pulled a blanket up over Loki and found the Asgardian staring at him intently. Bruce found himself staring into bright blue eyes and feeling warm. He cleared his throat, starting to back away, but Loki grabbed his wrist, his grip light, but firm.

"I owe you an apology for my words, for what I called you. I said truthfully that they were not my true opinion, but...they were still rude and uncalled for. You are a worthy man, Bruce Banner, both as an opponent and as an ally. I apologize."

Bruce looked surprised, eyes widening, but then gave his self-deprecating smile, glancing down.

"It's okay, that's...thank you. Get some sleep and I'll check on Clint for you."

"Thank you, Dr. Banner," Loki whispered, head tilted to one side.

Banner gave a gentle smile that made Loki's heartbeat double.

"You're welcome, Loki."

Banner left and went into Clint's room. Clint was in his bed, but sitting up. Thor sat next to him, his expression unabashedly worried. Both men stared hard at Banner, who smiled reassuringly.

"Loki's fine. I have him bandaged up and I think he'll sleep. The knife missed his organs, so the blood loss was the only issue and I got that stopped. He just needs to keep still for a few days, until the wound closes."

Clint sighed, laying back. Thor grinned.

"That is excellent news! Bruce, I thank you and am in your debt. You have taken splendid care of my brother and nephew."

"It's okay, Thor. I'm glad to help," Bruce assured him, blushing.

"No, we owe you," Clint disagreed. "I know what Loki's done and he said some pretty shitty things about you, Bruce, but...he's my mother. I care about him, okay? I thought that had changed, when I found out, but it hasn't. So, I'm grateful to you."

"Actually, he, uh, he apologized for that," Bruce told them, shrugging. "Maybe seeing you hurt gave him a reality check, I don't know. He seems calmer."

"Perhaps, my brother is starting to heal," Thor hoped out loud.

"Yeah, he seems like an okay guy, when he isn't trying to take over," Bruce agreed, smiling ironically. Truthfully, he found the calmer Loki rather charming, which was worrying, but he wanted to give comfort to the man's family.

Clint chuckled and lay back, feeling better himself than he had in almost a month. He'd visit his mom, later. Things might not be as they were before, but all relationships grew, Clint realized. Different didn't mean lesser. Clint looked at Thor and hoped he got the same opportunity.

"I think my brother must like you," Thor told Bruce, smiling. "He finds it difficult to admit when he is wrong and usually does so only for those he cares for."

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head. It was true the younger Asgardian was playing nice and Bruce appreciated the apology. He wasn't fool enough, however, to think Loki had any feelings for him, other than gratitude. The trickster might be hundreds of years old, but he looked young. By Asgardian standards, he probably was young. Bruce admitted to himself that Loki was beautiful. A man, immortal, as powerful, intelligent, and young as Loki wasn't going to throw himself away on an aging scientist who became a monster that had soundly beaten him.

"I'll keep that in mind," Bruce told Thor, hiding his insecurities.

"Good. Now, while you check on Clint, I wish to see my brother."

Thor got up, leaving. He hoped to speak with Loki, but Bruce had been right. Loki slept soundly, curling slightly onto his uninjured side. Thor stepped forward and stroked the dark curls surrounding his brother's face. Loki seemed paler than usual and, though he trusted Bruce, Thor couldn't help feeling a twinge of concern. It had been too long, since he had seen his brother whole and longer since he'd seen him happy. His brother bore too many cares and Thor swore to relieve him of some of them, somehow.

"I love you, Brother," Thor whispered, determined to stay close to both his brother and nephew, until they were both healed and back on their feet.

The next couple of days proved trying. Thor tried to divide his time evenly between his brother and his nephew. However, Loki grew impatient with being fussed over and seemed to prefer short visits from his brother and even, to an extent, from his son. Loki berated Clint for pushing himself too hard, sending him sternly back to his own room. Clint obeyed with a smirk, commenting to Thor that Loki seemed to find Bruce's company preferable, at the moment.

Thor was visiting with Clint, when they heard Bruce give an alarmed cry, in Loki's room. Thor jumped up and strode swiftly to his brother's room. Bruce was standing close to Loki's bed, one hand holding his other hand's wrist. Loki lay tossing on his bed, asleep. His skin was a dark blue. Clint looked at Thor in bemusement.

"What the hell's wrong with him? Why's he blue?"

"This is his Jotun form, the one Odin concealed, when he adopted Loki," Thor explained. "Bruce, what happened?"

"He seemed to be running a fever this morning. I came in with some cold compresses and found him like this. I burned myself, touching him. He certainly isn't feverish, but I think he's still fighting an infection."

Thor frowned.

"I do not know how to help him. Asgardian cures have always seemed to work on him, but I know little of medicine."

"I remember you saying Loki was adopted, but I thought he was still of Asgard," Bruce stated, questioningly.

"He is, by birth, a Frost Giant," Thor answered, shaking his head. "I think you should try Earth remedies. Your sedatives worked on me, the first time I was here. Even if they do not help, they will not do any harm. It is worth attempting."

Bruce looked at Clint, who nodded in agreement. After preparing a syringe, Bruce took Loki's arm, using his blanket as protection from the cold. He administered a round of antibiotics, grateful when the needle penetrated the skin easily.

Loki woke from the slight sting of the needle, looking around in confusion. Bruce, Thor, and Clint were all hovering over him. Loki sat up and caught sight of his arms. He grimaced at the blue skin, then blushed, when he remembered Bruce's presence. Taking a deep breath, Loki forced his appearance back to that of an Asgardian.

"What happened?" Loki demanded.

"You caught an infection," Bruce explained. "I think your body changed, in order to cope with the fever. You, uh, reverted to your Jotun form. I gave you a round of antibiotics."

Loki nodded, embarrassed. Clint sighed, stepping forward and kissing his mother's cheek. Loki looked surprised, but kissed him back, ruffling his hair.

"Come on, Thor. He needs to rest," Clint ordered, pulling on his uncle's arm. Thor was wise enough to not argue, following Clint out of the room.

Bruce covered his burn in salve, then a bandage, watching Loki. His patient had laid back down, but appeared ill at ease. Approaching the bed, Bruce was surprised, when Loki turned from him. Smiling, Bruce sat in the chair next to Loki's bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bruce asked.

"Why? Now, you know."

"Know what?"

Loki glared at him, sitting up.

"You know that I am far more of a monster than you could ever be."

"Why? Because you're a Frost Giant? That doesn't make you a monster, Loki."

"Then, you do not know them."

"Come on, Loki, you're smarter than this. The, what, Jotun?" Bruce asked, waiting for Loki's nod. "Okay, the Jotun are the traditional enemies of Asgard. So, most of what you've heard about them can probably be dismissed as propaganda. Have you ever met one outside of battle?"

"No," Loki admitted, deciding his "negotiations" with Laufey probably didn't count.

"No. So, you don't really know what they're like, as a people, just as an enemy.

Loki glowered, refusing to let go immediately of his preconceived notions.

"I know that I was abandoned! Laufey, their king, left me in a temple to die because I didn't measure up...literally. I'm small for one of them," Loki persisted.

"That's terrible," Bruce conceded, sympathetically. "Still, that's the action of one person, not the species as a whole."

"You don't understand," Loki said, wearily. "Odin raised us on stories of their atrocities, the war they waged on Midgard, hundreds of years ago. All of Asgard fears them. They're the stuff of nightmares and the scary stories told to children. Then, I find out I am one and Odin hid my nature out of shame and fear of how others would treat me."

"No offense to your adopted father and people, but they sound fairly bigoted," Bruce disapproved.

Loki looked at him in surprise.

"Bigoted?"

"The Jotun are a different culture and Asgard disdains them for it. See, I don't buy the idea of an entire race being purely evil. Maybe they've done terrible things under bad leadership, sure. Evil, being a monster...Loki, those are choices, not something you're born as."

"Choice," Loki mused, staring into Bruce's eyes, considering the other man's words. Finally, he nodded, sinking back against his pillows.

Bruce stood and started to walk away, leaving Loki to rest and think. Loki frowned.

"What happened to your hand?"

"I burnt myself. Your Jotun form is extremely cold," Bruce explained wryly.

Loki held out his hand.

"Come here. Please," he added.

Bruce obeyed and Loki gently grasped his injured hand, pulling away the bandage. The palm was mottled pink and black, the burns a horrible smear. Loki gently traced the burns, his fingers not quite touching the damaged flesh, aware of but not reacting to Bruce's slight gasp. Summoning magic, Loki continued running his fingers, now glowing green, over the injured palm. Both men watched intently as the burns healed, fading to pink, healthy skin. Loki ran one finger across Bruce's palm, then looked up.

Bruce's breath caught a bit, his hand starting to close, almost instinctively. His pulse ran faster. Loki smiled slightly, a devil's grin on his angel's face. He leaned closer, his voice low and coaxing.

"It's a terrible cliche, isn't it, falling for one's doctor? Something middle aged ladies, unhappy in their marriages, are apt to do?"

"Mm, I think it's more of a trope, than a cliche," Bruce decided, smiling wryly. "And, I think it only applies to handsome, young doctors, right out of medical school."

"Oh, I don't think so," Loki disagreed, merrily, pulling Bruce closer with their still clasped hands. "Anyway, I find you very handsome."

"Loki..."

Loki ignored whatever Bruce had started to say, placing a hand on the back of his head and kissing him deeply. Bruce resisted for all of a second, before returning the caress, running his tongue across Loki's lower lip. Loki made a soft, hungry sound. Bruce tasted of tea and spice and Loki wasn't sure he would ever again smell or taste those without feeling a degree of arousal.

Loki hissed in frustration, when a sharp twinge ran through his torso. Bruce pulled away, smiling, but shaking his head. He motioned for Loki to lay back.

"Come on. Now is not the time," Bruce said, firmly.

"Your antibiotics have healed the infection," Loki argued, but obeyed, resting against his pillows.

"You still have stitches that don't need to be pulled and...there's another issue," Bruce sighed.

"I can help you, so you don't transform. There are spells that can help. They won't control him utterly, of course, but will...give you a measure of privacy," Loki asserted, happily.

"We'll talk about that later," Bruce promised.

Oh, yes we will, Loki thought, even as his eyes began shutting on their own. He was more tired than he had thought. Tempting as Bruce was, Loki admitted he wasn't up to any further play. He let himself drift towards sleep. The sooner Loki healed, the sooner they could have that...talk.

Loki healed swiftly over the next few days. Bruce removed the stitches seven days after Loki's fight with Ross. Clint and Loki had both already been released to staying at Stark tower, though limited to light activity. Loki showed no signs of being in a hurry to leave.

A week later, Loki was sitting in Stark's kitchen, drinking coffee, when Nick Fury came in.

"You seem to be at loose ends or you're one of those guests that never know when to leave," Fury told him.

"Are you trying to be rid of me, Director?" Loki asked, his tone cool.

"Not at all. I'm just wondering what your plans are, now that you seem to have close, personal ties to half of my Avengers."

Loki's eyes flickered, but he remained silent, taking another sip of his drink. Fury nodded.

"Well, while you're ruminating over your choices, allow me to make a suggestion," Fury said, tossing a file folder onto the table in front of Loki. "Your call, but you could make a worse one."

Fury left and Loki opened the folder, finding a mass of documents spelling out his own abilities and attributes. Physical and psychological profiles were on top. At the bottom was a contract, awaiting his signature. Loki set the file aside and refilled his cup, his mind working, weighing pros and cons. He went through the file carefully, once more, while he finished his drink. Getting up again, he washed his glass, then went in search of a pen.