"Shouldn't we get to work rescuing Thor?" Steve asked, amidst the litter of paper napkins and pastry crumbs.

"Well, the coffee is getting rather cold," Natasha replied.

As they exited the MGM Grand, fresh drinks in hand, Loki glanced up at the skyline and nearly jumped out of his skin. For a moment he thought he had been transported a thousand miles across this wretched realm - and back in time, as well. "Bor's blood," he exclaimed to cover his moment of dismay "that is a familiar sight, is it not? What is it doing here, so far from the city of New York?"

"Eh?" Tony glanced up, and caught the familiar silhouettes of downtown Manhattan. "Oh, yeah, that's the 'New York' themed hotel," he said. "It's just false fronts, but it's a pretty good illusion, isn't it?"

"Hm," Loki said, carefully hiding his annoyance at the insulting misappropriation of the word 'illusion.' True illusion was a mysterious and venerated branch of magic, not cheap mummer's tricks performed with paint and clapboard.

Still - with the use of forced perspective, Loki had to admit, the fake skyline of New York did look very convincing. As he stared up at it, a wicked thought began to take shape in his mind. It was there, amongst those towers, that Loki had met his defeat at the hands of Thor and his friends. How different would it be this time, now that Thor's hands were his?

Not that he planned to bring another alien army to the real New York, of course. Of course not. Nothing so grand. It would be just a bit of a lightshow, a demonstration of the real meaning of illusion.

And he'd been so very, very good up till now. Didn't he deserve a bit of fun?

Thor's first, unworthy thought when he saw the group of mortals, headed by Coulson, was Oh, not right now. It had been a long and difficult enough day dealing with Loki's trials, without having to placate a suspicious and hostile group of mortals on top of it.

For a brief moment, he was tempted to just scatter the humans and flee, avoid the complications of what was going to be a very tricky, very fraught conversation. After all, if Loki had no compunctions about tarnishing Thor's reputation, why should Thor be particularly concerned about whether or not Loki was in good odor on Earth?

But he did not; partly because he was not sure he would be able to escape with no harm to the humans, but more to the point, he admitted, because he was not sure he would be able to escape at all. Loki was sly and tricky, but Thor was not in command of all his magics, or even his quick reflexes. He was weakened from the time spent in the prison and wandering in the sun. The only way out was going to be forward.

So Thor held up his hands, palms out to show that he was not armed, and plastered a beaming smile on his face as the humans approached. "My friends!" he exclaimed, hoping to set the tone. "I am so glad to see you!"

"You've been a lot of things to the people of Earth, Loki," Coulson said as he stepped forward, holding - yes, it was the gun made from the spare parts of the destroyer. Thor winced. He had no particular desire to see it used against Loki, or himself. "But 'friend' really isn't one of them."

"No, no, that is not what I meant," Thor protested, waving his hands. "Things are not as they appear. Do not let your eyes deceive you -"

"It's not really our eyes that we're worried about deceiving us," quipped Coulson's female companion, a dark-haired woman whom Thor did not know.

Thor sighed. "Please, hear me out," he said. "I know what it looks like to you, but I swear upon Mjolnir that I am not Loki. I am Thor, son of Odin."

And then he was off, explaining the whole fiasco from the beginning; the summons in the night, the fake sword of Freyr, the trap, the spell. Waking up in the wrong body, Loki's diatribe of diabolical plans. The uncounted time spent trapped in the prison, and finally his escape. The expressions of the humans remained deeply skeptical throughout, but at least they lowered their weapons.

There was a thoughtful silence after he finished his tale, which Coulson eventually broke. "Well, you see how this puts us in a bit of a dilemma," he said. "On one hand, since you're Loki, we can't trust a word that comes out of your mouth. On the other hand, this whole yarn does sound exactly like something Loki would do."

Thor could sympathize. "But surely this does not come as a surprise to you?" he said anxiously. "I would think you would be glad to have an explanation for my - that is, for the strange behavior of the one currently calling himself Thor? Some cause to explain my - I mean his - radical change of behavior?"

"Can't say that we do," said the dark-haired woman, whom Thor had tentatively identified as Fury's lieutenant, Maria Hill.

"Are you saying that there have been no... assassinations?" Thor said hesitantly.

"Not in the past couple of days, no," Coulson replied.

"No hurricanes?" Thor said in disbelief.

"Nope."

"No small countries conquered? No magical artifacts stolen? No national monuments destroyed?" Thor asked, thinking back to Loki's litany of threats in the cave.

"Not that I've heard about, no."

"This is the first we've heard that something might be odd about Thor at all," Maria Hill added. "He and the other Avengers fought off an attack on New York from the Artificer yesterday, and they were all fine then, and seemed to be acting no different than usual."

That offhand comment left Thor flabbergasted. How could this be? Loki had told Thor of his plans, the wicked acts he had intended to carry out in Thor's name. All of Thor's thoughts and energies had been bent on breaking out of prison in time to stop him before the damage became too great.

Yet now they were saying - that there had been no damage at all? No attacks? No betrayals?

That made no sense. Loki must be acting with great stealth, Thor was forced to conclude. He must have put aside plans to despoil Thor's reputation, at least in the short run, in order to use Thor's identity to commit some great theft or sabotage. Having come to this conclusion, Thor felt an immense relief; at least he might be in time to foil Loki's nefarious schemes, after all.

But it did put him in a bit of a bind; having done nothing too obviously out of character, Loki left no opening for him to regain his identity. "Is there no proof that you would accept, that my story is true?" Thor tried. "Perhaps some question you could ask that only the true Thor could answer?"

Coulson and Hill exchanged glances, then Coulson shrugged. "That's not a bad idea, in theory," he said. "Unfortunately, we don't really know Thor well enough to have any questions to ask that Loki couldn't also reasonably know the answers to. They were brothers for over a thousand years, after all; we have to conclude that the real Loki knows the real Thor pretty well."

That sent a hurtful pang through Thor, though he knew that the mortal did not mean it to cause offense. He brooded for a moment, searching for some alternative route.

Then it came to him.

"I believe there is something that I can do to prove my identity to your satisfaction," he announced. "Something that only the true Thor, son of Odin, would be able to do. But you must take me there."

Again that exchange-of-glances, as though a silent conversation were being held in the air between them. Then Hill looked back to him and nodded. "All right," she said. "We'll play you out some rope. Just in case you start getting any funny ideas, though, we've got the Destructo-beam trained on your shoulder blades the whole time."

Thor was overcome with relief, despite the threat, that they were at least giving him a chance to prove himself. "That will not be necessary," he assured her earnestly. "I will make no sudden moves. But come, let us make haste. We must find Loki and stop him, before his nefarious plans come to fruition!"

He should have brought Thor to Vegas long ago, Tony thought. For the most part, the charms of the Strip had worn thin on Tony long ago; there was only so much sex, gambling and drugs you could really do before the novelty wore off. And the sheer sensory overload of the Strip - the glitz, the dazzle, the lights, the noise, the crowd - could burn you out, if you weren't careful.

But having Thor along made it all seem new again. If only, Tony admitted, because he kept seemed to finding new and inventive forms of trouble to get into.

They'd strolled up the Strip , ice-cold margaritas in hand to ward off the residual heat of the day, as Thor admired the lights and pageantry on display. Here on the most expensive three miles of storefront in the country, every casino tower had to come up with its own innovative gimmick to draw patrons in. The false skyline of the New York, the light fountains of the Bellagio, the volcano pyrotechnics in front of the Mirage, and of course, the pirate battle of Treasure Island.

Their timing was good - they'd ended up in front of Treasure Island just as the show was starting. Water pouring from every beam and crevice, the wooden replica of a sailing frigate rose from the deep blue pool of water until it bobbed realistically on the surface. The decks and masts were swarmed by a troop of actors in old-timey costumes, singing as they pretended to go about the business of preparing the ship for departure - as though there were anywhere it could sail off to in the middle of the desert.

Still, Thor was getting into it, seeming enthralled by the costumes and props, so Tony lingered a while, still sipping his margarita.

"Stop right there!" a microphone-augmented shout echoed around the courtyard, and the crowd turned to see a second ship rounding the corner of the moat (on an underwater track, of course.) Unlike the first ship, whose crew had been mostly male, this ship was exclusively crewed by scantily-clothed women who posed and preened from their perches on the decks. "Stand and deliver, boys! You've been waylaid by the pirate crew of the Harpy!"

"Piracy!" Thor exclaimed, a shocked expression on his face. "Even here, within the boundaries of America itself? This cannot stand!"

Loosening Mjolnir in his belt, Thor climbed up onto the railing before Tony could stop him. "Wait - Thor - wait," Tony called, grabbing at a trailing sleeve in vain. "It's just a show. It's not a real ship, and they aren't real pirates. You know that, right? Thor!"

But Thor either didn't hear, or he ignored him as he leapt from the top of the railing to land on the prow of the ship, striking a heroic pose as he did. "Halt, villains!" he thundered; despite having no microphone, his voice still easily overwhelmed that of the actors. "There will be no piracy this day. I am Thor, god of Thunder, and this realm is under my protection!"

Oh, God. Tony dragged a hand down over his face. The actors glanced nervously at each other, no doubt wondering where Security was during all this. But Thor was only getting started, launching into a stern declamation of the evils of banditry and the sanctity of the high seas. Tony started forward, ready to try to drag Thor back if necessary, when a sudden thought struck him.

What the hell am I doing? Tony wondered. Since when had he been the wet blanket, the party-killer? It would be pretty damn hypocritical for he, Tony Stark, to try to chide any of his teammates for acting out and public.

Besides, Thor was a big boy. Big alien prince, that was. He could take care of himself, he didn't need Tony Stark to chaperone him again. It was time for Tony to stop worrying about babysitting the God of Thunder, and get back to his own priorities. He had a reputation to maintain, after all.

As soon as they hit the street, Natasha's phone twinkled, and she flipped it open and started texting with uncanny speed. After a moment she flipped her phone shut and slipped it into her breast pocket, grabbing sleeve to drag him along. "Let's go," she said.

Steve's heart beat faster. "Did you get a lead?" he asked excitedly. "Did someone from SHIELD get back to you?"

"That too," Natasha said, "but more importantly, the El Olomega gourmet food truck just updated their twitter, and they're in the Red Hook Ballfield right now. We've got to get a move on, or they'll sell out before we get there!"

"Oh my god," a female voice said, properly awestruck. "It's really him. Like, the Son of Odin? Like, the God of Thunder? That really cut alien dude? Y'know, the Mighty Thor?"

Loki turned around, grinning at this description of his (current) self. "Aye, that I am."

A crowd had formed in the street from Loki's impromptu performance in the ship battle. He had greatly enjoyed himself, although he was a little disappointed that Tony had apparently given up trying to talk him down after only a few minutes. (Not that Loki would have allowed himself to be dissuaded, but still, the disapproval was half the fun.)

Despite the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, Loki was not nearly as drunk as he pretended to be. Alcohol was such a useful excuse for ignoring social conventions, and Loki had seen more than enough of Thor in his cups to be able to mimic his boisterous, impulsive, judgment-impaired behavior to the hilt.

"I saw you on the news yesterday!" another female admirer enthused. "You were soooo cool, destroying all those robots, just like that!"

"Are you really an alien?" a third wanted to know, a young man with an Avengers t-shirt and huge eyes. "Because that's just awesome!"

Loki soaked up the praise and attention like a sponge, glowing with the regard of his new followers. He glanced around, wanting to check out Tony Stark's reaction to his new admirers. Perhaps a little bit of jealousy would do the trick, convince Tony to rethink his rebuff from earlier.

To his great annoyance, Tony was back over by the car, surrounded by a crowd of his own sycophants. Most of them were young, female and scantily dressed (he refused to think that the heat might have anything to do with this fact; no, clearly they were just women of loose morals.) Tony had his hip slung comfortably over the hood of the Maserati and was flirting outrageously.

"Tony Stark!" Loki called out, and just barely managed to make it not come out an accusing bellow. "We are well-finished here, are we not? Where should we go next?"

Tony flapped a dismissive hand at him. "Wherever you like, big boy; it's a big town, and a long night ahead of us," he called back. "Go ahead and do your thing; I'll catch up later."

Loki suppressed a scowl, and eyed Tony disfavorably. Discreetly, so as to not attract attention, he weaved a small curse of misfortune and laid it on his till-now drinking companion. Tony Stark would learn better than to spurn Loki's company, oh yes he would.

Whatever he'd been about to do next, it was driven out of his mind as a sudden growling rumble sounded from nearby. Loki turned to look as a small landscaped hill in front of a nearby tower suddenly began to glow an ominous red, with the rumblings and belchings of stone behind it.

The top of the hill exploded, sending a belch of red fire into the air that was mirrored in the flat pond of water below it. It was accompanied by another set of smaller flames, jetting up from the corners of the pond.

"By Odin's Beard!" Loki swore admiringly, his attention captured by the pretty, pretty fires. "At last a proper tribute to myself, the God of Thunder!"

During the midnight confrontation between Thor and Loki, Thor had flung Mjolnir hard enough to break the stone wall of the cave and punch through to the open air on the other side. He hadn't gotten a chance to retrieve her; Loki's spell had ambushed her before he could call her return.

It took some searching for him to find the place on the unremarkable hillside outside the cave where Mjolnir had broken through, and some time longer to find where she'd finally come to rest, in a ditch well beyond.

The human agents shadowed him closely throughout the search, vigilant and interested. They seemed to be willing to at least give him a chance to prove himself, although the way their sharp eyes tracked every move waiting for the tiniest slip made him twitchy and nervous. The way all of them watched him, just waiting for him to fail so they could turn on him, made him want to unleash his frustration in a burst of anger and violence, just to show them.

Or was that Loki's habits talking again?

But they found Mjolnir at last, lying half-hidden by a drift of dead leaves and dry weeds. He could feel the humming of her magic as he approached, but she made no move to return to his hand, and he hesitated even as he stepped forward and reached a hand towards her.

What if this didn't work? If the spell failed to return Mjolnir to Loki's hands, what made him think that Loki's hands would lift her? But they are different spells, he insisted against the doubts plaguing his mind. Upon his return home he'd had a chance at last to read the runes Odin had placed on Mjolnir's head: whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, will possess the power of Thor. He didn't need to be Thor, right now, he just needed to be as worthy as Thor, and Mjolnir would answer to him.

But was he worthy? He wasn't sure that he was. Or was that exactly what it meant to be worthy, that you didn't feel worthy of it? And if that was the case, did the fact that he didn't feel worthy and that meant that he was mean that he did feel worthy and therefore wasn't? And didn't that mean -

Coulson, standing behind him, cleared his throat. "You brought us out here to show us something?" he prompted. "I don't think it was for a round of omphaloskepsis."

Thor jolted out of his pondering. "Aye, it was not," he said. Taking a deep breath, and trying not to dwell too much on what would happen if he failed to convince the humans of his identity (and did that thought make him unworthy?) he closed his hand around Mjolnir's haft.

For a moment nothing happened, and Thor felt a rush of cold through his veins. Then he moved and Mjolnir moved with him, rising easily from the pile of foliage and resting lightly in his hands. Thor grinned, splitting his face from ear to ear, and swung the hammer up towards the sky, where it met with a flash of lightning out of the sky. "See me, Son of Coul, Men of Shield," he cried in a strong voice. "I am the Son of Odin. I am the God of Thunder. I am the Mighty Thor!"

When the lightning faded, Thor turned around with a smile on his face to see two of his teammates - Captain America and the Black Widow - just now joining the rest of the crowd. Steve Rogers was staring at him with an astonished expression on his face, mouth hanging open, as Phil Coulson quickly and urgently brought him up to speed.

Natasha looked considerably more sanguine about the situation. "Well," she said, "this explains a lot."

It was turning out to be a pretty good night for Tony Stark, inauspicious public drunk and disorderlies aside. He'd managed to meet up with a number of young ladies from his fan club that he didn't even know he had, and he was just about drunk enough to let the makeup fool him into believing they really were the age they said they were. Not that Tony was particularly fussy about that; as long as everybody involved was over eighteen, he didn't care too terribly much about how many eighteenth birthdays they'd counted past that.

(Although even he had to draw the line somewhere, such as with the geriatric old grandmother who'd approached his car and told him, in a cracking cackle, that she was his biggest fan. She'd bought all of the Iron Man merchandise, including the limited-release Iron Man matched underwear and bra set, which she'd promptly demonstrated to him by pulling open her coat in the middle of the street to show him. That had been awkward.)

Now he was packed back into his Maserati, less one Thor, but with half a dozen lovely young ladies taking his place, and all in all Tony thought he'd made the better of the trade. The radio blared out AC/DC's "Thunderstruck," the dancer in the Iron Man blouse pressed against his shoulder as she sang along, and Tony really was a little too drunk to be behind the wheel like this, but this was Vegas so it wasn't like he could really get up enough speed to do any damage anyway.

A stir in the crowd caught his eye, people turning and pointing, and Tony craned his head around to look. There was movement near the top of the New York, a familiar silhouette outlined by the spotlights. After a moment Tony recognized the shaggy head and shoulders of Thor, but it took him a moment longer to resolve his lower half into -

Holy shit. How the hell had Thor gotten hold of one of the MGM lions, let alone gotten it to the top of the New York? Flying hammer or no flying hammer, that just didn't make any damn sense.

Thor did make a very impressive silhouette, sitting astride the back of a lion as he raised his hammer to the sky. "Citizens of Midgard!" he boomed out. "I thank you for your fine entertainments this eve. Now, the time has come for your to see true spectacle. Do you wish to see a show? Do you wish to see flashing lights and explosions? Very well -"

He raised his hammer high, and bright green lightning leapt from the head of the hammer to the cloudless sky. A groan of thunder answered him, and then the sky lit up as dozens of bright streaks of lightning rained down in answer. The sky glowed with eerie light, and mad images seemed to swoop and shimmer in the lightning-pierced darkness. One bolt of lightning caught on the replica of the Empire State Building, setting it ablaze. The crowd cheered wildly.

"What's he doing? He's gonna raze New York!" Tony groaned. Beside him, the AC/DC singing young lady shrieked in his ear.

"Look out!"

There was a solid thump as his car met a curb, and bounced and arced over it. Tony grabbed at the wheel, but he'd lost any hope of control over its momentum, and the car bucked and swerved as he fought to brake.

They landed with a deafening splash in the lighted fountains in front of the Bellagio, spouts of water bubbling like champagne in the golden lights. The engine flooded, groaned, and stalled.

Moans of feminine disappointment rose up from his passengers, and Tony Stark sighed as he raised his hands to scrub his face. "Sorry about that, ladies," he said. "Looks like the Tony Stark tour is at a -"

He cut off as he caught sight of a familiar-looking shape cruising slowly through the water towards their stalled car. "Whoa, hey, a shark."

Natasha and Steve had the whole team, plus Coulson and his men, arrayed in the main room of Avengers Mansion when Tony's car finally pulled back in the driveway. There were a few barely-audible words between the driver and passengers, then the slam of a door. A few moments later Tony himself staggered through the door, then stopped in his tracks and stared at the crowd in dismay.

Not that they didn't do a little staring back. Tony's glitzy suit was a wreck, almost as much as the man it contained; his sunglasses had a crack in them and did not do much to cover up a swelling black eye. His left hand was heavily bandaged, and he was walking with a limp.

"Okay," Tony said. His voice was rusty, either from fatigue or from smoke, if not both. "If anyone starts off with anything like 'Tony, we're doing this because we care very much about you' I'm outta here."

Clint snickered. "No fear coming from me, buddy!" he said.

"What happened to you?" Natasha demanded. This had to outshine even in the infamous birthday party in the suit from three years ago, when Tony had thought he was dying and been even more self-destructive than usual. "Rough night?"

"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," Tony said firmly.

"At least tell us how you got injured," Steve said, frowning. "You didn't get into a fight, did you?"

"Well, this one was a shark," Tony said, waggling his bandaged hand. He tilted his chin up and to the side, revealing a deep red hickey. "And this one... was a cougar."

Steve shook his head incredulously. "Sharks and mountain lions?" he repeated. "Geez. What'd you do, go to a zoo?"

Natasha decided now was not the time to correct Steve on the finer points of Canadian late-90s slang.

"How'd you get bit by a shark?" Clint wanted to know.

"Well, it wasn't so much getting bit by the shark," Tony began. "It was more that my hand got cut up on the scales when I grabbed it by the tail and used it to beat -"

"Where's Thor?" Natasha interrupted.

Tony shrugged "He was right behind me. Should be in in just a minute. Why?"

Natasha and Steve exchanged glances, then the Captain stepped aside so that Tony had an unobstructed view of the window seat. The window seat which, at present, contained a six-foot tall alien with bright blue skin and red eyes. There was a short-handled hammer resting across his lap, the head engraved with ancient runes, sparks of blue lightning flickering across the surface.

Tony blinked. It was visible even through his sunglasses. "Uh, wow," he said, taking off the sunglasses to squint at the apparition. Thor returned his gaze solemnly, shifting Mjolnir across his knees. "You got me a present and it isn't even my birthday."

Thor sighed. "Tony Stark, this is not the time for your jests," he said impatiently.

Tony ignored it, as he ignored all admonitions, and turned to the rest of the Avengers instead. "Okay, so what's Loki doing here?" he asked.

"That isn't Loki," Natasha replied. "...or so he says. It's Thor."

"What?" Tony goggled. "Uh, no, I just spent the last thirty-six hours in Vegas with Thor. There's got to be some mistake."

The Avengers repeated a tolerable precis of Loki's (Thor's?) story, carefully hedged round with "allegedlies" "supposedlies" and "so he says." Tony absorbed it all with an extremely skeptical expression. Natasha drifted over to Steve.

"This could get messy," Steve muttered. Natasha tilted her head in acknowledgement.

"As far as it goes, I believe him," she murmured. "But I can understand why others don't. If Loki comes in here and decides to stick to his masquerade, things could get... complicated."

Steve grimaced. With two people claiming to be Thor, all sorts of outcomes were possible. At best, they would be stuck trying to deduce which one was lying and which was telling the truth through careful observation, and keen pursuit of minor discrepancies in the story of one or another. At worst, they would have to lock them both up until some more solid proof could be found.

"My friends, I have returned from -" A voice came booming through the atrium as Loki, still wearing Thor's body, followed in Tony's wake. He cut off mid-word as he came in sight of the crowd waiting there - the Avengers, the SHIELD agents, and Thor. Holding Mjolnir.

"Loki," Thor said gravely, standing up from the couch.

At this point Loki - because there was no longer any doubt that this was Loki - promptly flipped his shit.

"You!" he screeched out, his voice shifting dramatically away from Thor's bass rumble to a much higher register. He clenched one fist, and bright green magical flames flared up around it. "How dare you sit there - how dare you come in here, wearing that filthy skin? Carrying that hammer? You don't have the right, you filthy Jotun freak!"

There was more in that vein - a great deal more - but most of it was lost in alarmed shouting and scuffling as Loki lunged forward, launching a bolt of green flames at his brother's head. Steve met him halfway, a clash that made the windows rattle, and Clint and half-a-dozen SHIELD agents piled on to help him. During the scuffle, the copy of Mjolnir that Loki had been wearing got knocked away and skittered to the floor, and its appearance jumped and flickered a bit as the illusion faltered.

Even with help, Steve was no match for the strength of Thor's body, and skidded over the floor as he was shoved backwards. Suddenly there was a furious, familiar roar from over by the doorway as the Hulk put in an appearance.

"Hulk, grab him!" Steve yelled out, struggling to hold Loki back, and the big guy snorted and stepped forward to do exactly that. It took a few more minutes of wrestling, but at last the Avengers had managed to get the false Thor subdued in the Hulk's grasp.

Tony straightened up, wheezing slightly from the unexpected melee. "Good thinking, bringing in the Other Guy," he said. "You had him lying in wait just in case?"

Clint shrugged, picking dolefully at a jagged tear in his leather vest. "Actually, if I'm gonna be honest, I completely forgot he was even here till just now," he admitted.

The scuffle eventually resolved itself: Loki hanging limp in the Hulk's grip, wheezing and glaring indiscriminately at the lot of them. Thor stood in front of him, holding Mjolnir and frowning; the rest of the Avengers ranged themselves in an uncertain circle around them. Coulson and his team had fallen back to stand against the walls, looking as though all they needed to make their lives complete was a few buckets of popcorn.

"Well, what a nice pickle we've found ourselves in," Loki said mockingly. "But whatever will you do with me now? You can't reverse the spell without my help - you don't have the magic for it! Beat me up until I agree to do what you want? That won't work, you know; Thor has a head of steel. Torture me until I give in? Remember that it's not my body that will suffer for it!"

"I have no doubt that we will find a way," Thor replied. "But Loki, you owe me answers for the grievances you have inflicted on me. What were you thinking? What was your grand plan, Brother? I was certain you would take this chance to inflict harm upon my comrades, or upon this world. Believe me, I am grateful that you did not, but I cannot understand what, then, was your intent."

Loki began to laugh, high and mocking. "My intent?" he gasped out, lips curling back with cruel mirth. "My plan? Look around you, Thor, and you'll see! I beat you, Thor! I beat you at your own game, in the only thing that really matters - at being you!"

Thor fell back a step, eyes stunned wide, but Loki needed no further encouragement to continue his ranting. "All those things you think make you so great... your title, your shiny hair, your bulging muscles, your fancy hammer - where did they go? You didn't work for them. You didn't earn them! They were gifts, and if they hadn't been given to you, you would be nothing! Anyone else who'd been as lucky as you could do as well, and I did! I did even better than you, and everyone loves me for it!

"Do you get it now, Thor?" Loki snarled, surging forward in the Hulk's grasp to get right in Thor's face. "You're nothing! Take off the fancy outer coat and there's nothing there! I could have put a wig on a mop to take your place and who would tell the difference? Nobody missed you, nobody even noticed you were gone! I proved that anyone could take your place, anyone could be the Mighty Thor - even me!"

"No! Not anyone!" Thor snapped back, recovering from his initial surprise. "Only you! Loki, don't you understand? Only someone as audacious as you could come up with this plan. Only someone as clever, and as skilled at magic, could have pulled it off. Only someone who knew me so well could have fooled my friends. Only someone brave and strong could have taken my place in battle."

His voice dropped, and Thor stepped forward, holding one hand out entreatingly towards his brother. Steve met Natasha's gaze, and Natasha rolled her eyes tellingly. Apparently, it was time for the appeal-to-Loki's-shared-brotherhood and-inherent-goodness part (which usually came right after the monster had been unleashed and right before Loki got a wedgie from the Hulk. Thor was a little late off the mark this time around, but nobody present could really blame him.)

"You were able to do it because you have courage, and cleverness, and power, and skill," Thor wheedled. "You could be a hero if you wanted - not by stealing my place, but in your own right! You could be it all by yourself, if you chose."

"I CHOOSE?" Loki's voice, raised to a shout in Thor's chest, was enough to rattle the rafters. "When have I ever gotten to choose what I was, Thor? I never chose to be what I am! Do you think I would have chosen to be - that?" He spat at Thor's feet. "A filthy Jotun?!"

Abruptly Loki's eyes narrowed, and a cunning smile spread across his face. "But maybe there is wisdom in what you say after all, Brother," he said, mockery clear in his voice. "I can be what I choose to be. And now I choose to be - Thor! And there's nothing you or any of your pet humans can do to stop me!"

With a worried look over his shoulder at Loki, Thor joined the rest of the Avengers in a huddle. "What are we gonna do now?" Steve asked. "Thor, is he telling the truth?"

Thor sighed. "As far as our chances of reversing the spell? Aye, I fear so," he replied. "My brother has always been unmatched at spellwork, and his methods have only grown more complex and devious since he left Asgard. In this body I have his magic, but not the knowledge to use it."

A glum silence met Thor's pronouncement. "What about Asgard? Would they be able to put you guys back?" Natasha asked.

"Maybe?" Thor didn't sound too terribly confident in his answer. "If all else fails, I can take him there and try. But even then there is no guarantee that they could overcome my brother's magic, and you would not be able to accompany me to restrain him."

"Even if it's a slim chance, it's probably the best we have," Steve said. "I don't think there's much chance of changing his mind by talking to him, or much we could offer him to get him to change his mind -"

"Actually," Tony interrupted. "I think I just might have something. C'mon over here, Thor."

Puzzled but pliant, Thor allowed Tony to drag him over to the couch and stand in front of it, face-to-face with Tony and standing in profile to Loki. Tony put one hand on Thor's hip, then turned to face Loki with a wicked smile. "Sure you won't change your mind, Quantum Leap?" he asked.

"Save your pitiful persuasions, mortal," Loki sneered, although there wasn't much heat to it; he seemed more confused than anything. "You have nothing to offer me."

"Really? You're positive?" Tony cocked an eyebrow in his direction, then shrugged and turned back to Thor. "Well, all right then."

He grabbed Thor's collar in one hand, insistantly pulling the taller man's head down to his level, and kissed him. His free hand went up to grip the long black hair at the back of his head as Thor flailed, holding him firmly in the clinch.

"What are you doing?" Loki sputtered. He spoke for all of them, Avengers included, who were staring openmouthed at the display Thor and Tony were putting on in the middle of the Avengers living room. "Stop that! Stop that at once! Who gave you permission to do that with my body?"

"Uh, actually you did, when you propositioned me in my lab yesterday," Tony said as an aside, freeing his mouth for a moment even as his hands wormed between the buttons of Thor's shirt. "So hey, if you're game, then I'm game, and it's game time. But like I told you yesterday: big blond types don't do it for me. So if you want to play, you'll have to get back in your own body."

"This is Tony's idea of a plan?" Clint muttered out of the side of his mouth.

Thor made an "ah!" sound of understanding, and stopped trying to squirm out of Tony's grasp. The blue of his skin was beginning to fade, chased away by normal human gold-peach wherever his and Tony's skin met. Tony took note of this interesting fact and ran with it, pawing his hands all over Thor's increasingly exposed arms and shoulders and neck as his open-mouthed kisses turned from the PG-rating towards something more R.

Thor made a few attempts to reciprocate, but they were clumsy and half-hearted, a fact which did not escape Loki's increasingly enraged attention.

"No! Get your hands off! He's mine!" Loki shouted, and then a moment later, inconsistently. "Thor, get - you are doing it wrong!"

Tony came up for air long enough to throw an outrageous grin and eyebrow-waggle in Loki's direction. "Enjoying the view?" he said, sounding only a little out of breath. " 'Fraid we're going to have to vacate to a more private location for the next bit - would be even more fun if you were there, but as it is, I guess you'll just have to miss out -"

Loki snarled wordlessly, a ripsaw of frustration in the air, and then twisted suddenly in the Hulk's restraining grasp. A burning flash of light snapped into existence around him, arcing through the air to ground itself in Thor and snapping back again in less time than it took to blink.

Both Asgardians staggered back. In the Hulk's arms, Thor stumbled and would have collapsed onto the floor if not for the green steadying hands on his shoulders. He raised one trembling hand to rub at his face, feeling his nose and jaw and beard. "By Odin's beard!" he swore softly.

Loki, meanwhile, stood up straight - to his entire six feet of height - and reached out to grab Tony in a firm commanding grip. Before anyone else in the room could react he had Tony dipped backwards over the couch, one hand sliding expertly up his shirt as he returned the kiss with firm and very definite expertise.

"What just happened" Clint demanded. "Shit, I blinked. Did they switch back or what? Did I miss it?"

"I... think so?" Steve said, brow wrinkling. "Thor? Are you back?"

"Aye, 'tis myself and no other," Thor said solemnly. He raised one hand out in front of him, and Mjolnir leapt from its place on the floor to fly to his hand. A bright grin broke out on his face as he hefted the hammer high. "By Asgard's lights, I have missed this!"

Steve leapt forward to pull Thor into a joyful hug. "Welcome back, Thor," Steve said, pulling back far enough to pound on Thor's shoulder.

"It is good to be back, Captain!" Thor replied. "You cannot imagine my relief that I have returned, not only safely but with all my friends safe as well. A better end to this misadventure than I could have hoped for!"

"Uh, guys? Are we actually going to do something about Loki?" Clint called out. Over by the couch, Loki and Tony were still going at it, and Loki's hand was definitely no longer north of Tony's waistband. "I mean, like, arrest him or something."

As the attention of all of the Avengers - now including Thor - focused back on the couple, Loki pulled himself back from Tony with obvious, reluctant effort. He looked from Thor, to the Avengers, to the SHIELD agents hovering around the edges of the room, and scowled.

"This is not over," he vowed, and he drew himself up to his full height as he released Tony (though not without one final, regretful pat on his nether regions.) "Mark my words. You will rue this day!"

And with another eye-searing flash of magic, he was gone.

"Did Tony actually just french-kiss a supervillain into submission?" Clint said incredulously.

"Well, you have to admit it wouldn't be the first time," Natasha reminded them.

"We swore never to speak of that again!" Tony objected.

"Well, you swore never to do it again, and look where that got us," Natasha reminded him.

"Hey! Thor's back in his proper body, and we didn't have to kill or torture anyone to make it happen," Tony said. "There wasn't even any massive property damage to the Mansion this time. I think I did pretty well, don't you?"

Thor had been strangely quiet through this exchange, tugging at his shirt with a worried expression. "My friends will you excuse me a moment?" he asked. "I must comport myself. Um... there seems to be something very strange..."

Tony, having already totally forfeited any sense of shame for the evening, grabbed a corner of Thor's shirt and peeled it back. "Whoa, hey, big boy, what happened to all your hair?" he said.

Thor grimaced. "I can only suppose Loki must have removed it," he said. "As one final snipe at me. He does not have any such hair himself and has never had much patience for it."

"Really," Tony said in a highly charged tone. "That's good to know."

Thor's attention was torn away from his own troubles for a moment, and he frowned thunderously at Tony. "For what reason would you need this knowledge, Tony Stark?" he demanded. "Now that the spell has been undone, there is no more need for any such pretenses."

"Who said anything about pretenses?" Tony shot back. "I already told you, tall dark and handsome is my type... Actually, I guess you weren't there for that part -"

Thor loomed over Tony, crackling with menace. "Tony Stark, what precisely are your intentions towards my brother?" he asked dangerously.

"Are we done here?" Bruce interrupted, having changed back from the Hulk sometime in the background when no one was paying attention to him. "Because if there's nothing more that needs the Avengers, I really would like to get back to my lab."

"Traitor!" Tony shouted at him. "Abandoning me in my hour of greatest need!"

"We've been over this, Tony," Bruce called back. "If you decide to stick your dick in crazy, I'm not going to bail you out of the consequences of your bad decisions!"

"Some Science Bro soulmate you are!"

"Do you think El Olomega is still at the ballpark?" Steve asked Natasha.

"I think so," Natasha said, glancing briefly at her phone.

"Great," Steve said, turning away from the increasingly heated argument between Iron Man and the Norse god of thunder. "I'm buying."

~end.