a/n: Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed and/or favorited, I appreciate the support so much and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Chapter six: Reunited, But Not Repaired

Casey woke up alone. Loki, she assumed, was off exploring or asleep in his own room, so she got herself up and staggered into the bathroom. When she came out, she realized she'd slept in her clothes, not unusual for her, but she did need to change into something clean. She hoped her other belongings had already been brought over, or she'd have to go out into Stark Tower and meet her potential future teammates looking like a homeless person.

She looked uncertainly around the room. "JARVIS?" she began tentatively. "Do you know if they brought the stuff from my dorm here yet?"

She didn't really expect an answer. But JARVIS immediately replied, Yes, Miss Kyle. Master Loki transported two suitcases for you earlier this afternoon. I have recently been informed that S.H.I.E.L.D. agents will bring the rest over tomorrow.

"Oh. Thank you." She looked around the room for a clock, but there wasn't one. "Um, what time is it?"

The time is six-twenty-four PM, Miss Kyle.

"Thank you," she said again. She hoped that, sooner or later, the awkwardness of speaking to a machine would disappear.

JARVIS hadn't mentioned where Loki had put her things, so she poked around the room a bit and found them in the first closet she opened. It was, apparently, the smaller of the two, which just served to demonstrate how little she actually had, because both cases fit inside with plenty of room to spare. She fished through one of them, found a clean dress, and pulled it on.

The back of the closet door was a full-length mirror. Casey checked her image and, as usual, highly disliked what she saw. Too-long blonde hair that looked as if she'd just come in out of the wind. No amount of brushing could fix that, as she knew from years of experience, so she left it alone. Gray-blue eyes too narrow for her face. Skin so pale she nearly glowed under fluorescent light. Too short. Chest too small, hips too wide. Was there anything she could like about herself?

"You're awake."

It was a mark of how used to his presence she'd gotten that Casey didn't even jump when she heard Loki's voice. "Yeah. Took me long enough, didn't it?"

"I should say so. The others have already gotten their evening meal. Would you care to go explore the kitchens with me?"

"I certainly would." Casey reached out and slipped her hand through Loki's. The two of them made their way down the hall, but they'd barely passed Loki's door when Casey stopped dead. "Um. Don't hate me, but I forgot where our kitchen is."

"Oh, but I haven't. Why don't we take the shortcut?" Before Casey could ask what that meant, Loki had wrapped one arm firmly around her waist and tugged slightly, and then they were standing in a huge kitchen that was straight out of a cooking competition. Casey had never seen so many gadgets (or so many refrigerators, for that matter) in her life. Loki stared around the room in surprise. "I forgot…this is so confusing," Loki sighed. "Your Tony Stark seems to think the world might end if every room does not show off his power and technology."

Casey couldn't hide her giggles. "Yep…that's Stark in a nutshell," she agreed. She extricated herself from Loki's grip and wandered to the nearest refrigerator. "Let's get foraging. I don't know what all he has in here but I guarantee we'll be able to find something we both like."

Loki opened another door, this one leading to a hi-tech revolving pantry that obeyed voice commands. "This will take forever," he complained.

"No shit…oh, I'm so stupid!" Casey looked to the ceiling. "JARVIS, can you help us?"

Of course, Miss Kyle. How can I assist you?

Loki sighed and, with an air of defeat, raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Of course. How silly of me. I forgot. His ceiling is our servant."

At that, Casey absolutely lost it. She laughed so hard she had to lean on the countertop to keep herself upright. "Oh, Loki," she sighed when she could finally speak. "You should show Stark that sarcastic streak of yours next time we see him."

"With pleasure. Now, about that food?"

"Right. What do you want?"

Loki thought it over for a moment. "I don't suppose you have plain poultry here?"

"We do, actually. JARVIS, do you have any chicken?"

Of course. Grilled, pan-fried, sauteed, broiled, or in fast-food form?

Loki blinked, taken aback. "Oh…I don't know…grilled, I suppose?"

Southmost refrigerator, third drawer on the right.

"Thank you, JARVIS." Casey went to get the chicken out of the refrigerator, leaving a very surprised Loki in her wake. "Anything else?"

"Plain bread?"

"Oh, don't list every kind again," Casey cut in before JARVIS could reply. "Just tell me where the ciabatta rolls are, please, JARVIS. Oh, and after that if you could tell me where to find ingredients to make a sauceless pizza, that would be awesome."

JARVIS complied, and Casey went to heat up the chicken and bread for Loki before setting to work on her own dinner. Loki watched curiously as she liberally applied olive oil and grated mozzarella cheese to a pre-made crust. "I never knew you disliked tomatoes," he remarked. "Is that not unusual for a Midgardian?"

Casey rolled her eyes. "Loki, please. Do I have to remind you of the billion and one ways that I'm 'unusual for a Midgardian?'"

"Point taken."

Loki went back to his food, while Casey finished prepping her pizza and shoved it into the nearest oven. "JARVIS, can you do me a favor and make sure this doesn't burn?"

Of course, Miss Kyle. It will be ready in five minutes.

"Five minutes?" Casey raised her eyebrows. "Wow. You know, Loki, for all his ostentatiousness, living in Stark's place definitely has its perks."

"Is it unusual for pizza to take such a short time to cook?"

"Oh, yeah." Casey plopped down on one of the silver stools surrounding the island. "So what do you think? You've seen a lot more of this place than I have."

"Well, I must admit, the libraries are quite impressive. Stark has a fair collection."

"And the people?" Casey asked tentatively.

"As far as I can tell, they wish us no harm."

"That's good." Casey looked up again. "JARVIS, where's the soda?"

Can you specify what kind?

"Orange Crush, please."

A see-through plexiglass column rose out of the center of the island, bearing a glass bottle of Orange Crush. As Casey and Loki watched in astonishment (Casey) and approval (Loki), wheels popped out of the plate on which the soda rested, and the bottle wheeled itself over to Casey, who took it with a stunned, "Thank you."

No problem at all, Miss Kyle.

Casey bit her lip, fighting to hide a smile. "What was that you were saying about Tony showing off his technology?"

Loki tore his eyes from the place where the soda had risen out of the table. "He's not very subtle, is he?"

"No shit, Sherlock."

Loki cocked his head at her. "Sherlock?"

"Sherlock Holmes. Detective with mad intelligence. I'll see if I've still got my copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles, you'd love him." Casey shook her head, laughing. "He's a smart-ass, like you."

"I beg your pardon, my rear end has nothing to do with my superior intellect!"

She sighed and flopped over on the table, using her arm as a headrest. "Loki. It's a figure of speech. I wasn't actually talking about your ass." She raised her head and shot him a mischievous look. "Well, I could, if you like, but—"

"Oh, be quiet, you saucy girl!"

Without standing up, Casey put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin in a faux-defiant pose. "Never!"

"What, does the lady defy a prince? You'd best be careful, if you wish to keep that pretty face of yours intact."

Not intimidated in the least by what she knew were empty threats, Casey threw a dropped piece of pizza crust at Loki. "Hey, buddy. You might be a prince in Asgard, but here in Midgard you're just another long-haired guy with weird taste in clothes."

"Oh…does your realm have a word for what I am, then?" Loki sounded apprehensive, and Casey knew why: he was thinking of his other body. His Frost Giant body. Which she had absolutely no intention whatsoever of bringing up right now.

"Yeah. We sure do. Hipster."

Fortunately for her, she had explained what a hipster was several days ago, and Loki immediately got the joke. "Says the woman who wears clothing of at least forty years' vintage."

"Aww, look at my little baby demigod, all grown up and recognizing Midgardian fashion!" Casey made a little show of clapping her hands.

"Oh, you are treading on thin ice indeed, Mortal."

"Call me mortal one more time, mister, and I'll remind you of your mortality."

The two of them were still laughing when Thor found his way into their kitchen. The second his footsteps fell on the linoleum, Loki froze mid-smile and eyed the approaching Thunder God warily. But Thor didn't notice at all. "Brother! It is good to hear you laugh again!" Thor bounded forward for a hug, but when Loki slipped off his stool and backed away, he stopped in his tracks. "I thought we were past this," he said sadly.

As badly as Casey wanted for Loki to be happy with his brother again, she knew it was going to take more than a display of anger at the news of Loki's torture to rebuild the trust that had been lost. And as adorable as she found the six-foot-five flowy-haired teddy bear that was Thor, she knew full well that their whole lives, Loki had been the second-class citizen and Thor was the dazzling sunshiny golden boy. Not exactly rock-solid foundation for the rebuilding of a relationship.

Now Loki edged towards Casey, and she slipped her hand into his, simultaneously trying to tell him with the pressure of her fingers it's okay, everything is going to be all right while sending Thor the same message with her eyes. She wanted Thor to know she wasn't against him, but at the same time Loki needed to know she was in his corner. He needed to know she could support him…but if Thor knew he could trust her, she might be able to act as a go-between of sorts, and that could be invaluable in getting them back together.

"Thor," she began gently, "you gotta know it's not going to be that easy."

"She speaks the truth," Loki said, his voice low, but Casey could feel his hand tightening around hers. He was already tense and Thor had barely spoken two sentences.

Thor frowned. "I thought that in light of recent events we might be able to forgive one another."

Loki laughed bitterly. "Oh, did you? Did you believe that mistaking an imposter for the true me, swallowing its lies as though they were my own words, and thinking I would go so far as to attempt to enslave two worlds would enable us to forgive one another? I do believe, Thor, that you are quite as stupid as you appear. For to believe that after all of that—and that is without considering the atrocities I endured at your father's hands as a child—that we could forgive one another…that, Thor, is true madness."

Casey couldn't help but wince at Thor's expression; he looked as though Loki had actually, physically socked him in the chest. He blinked several times, as though trying not to cry, and then said quietly, "Well then, brother, I see we are at an impasse."

Loki snorted. "Certainly. Why don't we call it that? Why don't we pretend, as you so love to do, that what happened when Odin banished you was merely a brief dance with insanity, and that we can pick right up where we left off? Oh, but I do remember…where we left off was right after you attempted, several times, to kill me—"

"—Loki! Your fall was but an accident—"

"—oh, and placing Mjolnir on my chest was, what, a slip of the hand?"

"You were attempting to destroy Jotunheim!"

"Only after hearing all my life what monsters they were, and how inexorably threatening they were to the very foundation of our world! Thor, do you not remember the things Mother used to tell us? She used to tell us that they were dangerous, they were deadly, they were terrible frightening things from which Odin must protect us. Do you remember none of that? And then when I attempt to destroy the threat, what am I? Once again, I am in the wrong. I am the monster. I am always, always the damned monster!"

By the end of this, Loki was gripping Casey's hand so tightly that she thought it might break her bones. But she said nothing, merely allowed him to continue to hold on. Right now, she knew, he badly needed to know he wasn't alone.

"You know Mother and Father never saw you as a monster!" Thor protested. "Even when Father punished you he always held you in the highest regard!"

"The highest regard?" Loki let out another bitter, derisive laugh, this one bordering on actual madness. "Oh, I do see how it is now. You are truly as blind as you seem."

"What do you mean?" Thor demanded. "Father only ever punished us to teach us the lessons we deserved to learn!"

"No!" Loki shouted, so loudly it seemed to shake the kitchen. "You be quiet, Thor! You stop speaking that nonsense right this instant! Oh, no, don't…you tell me, Thor, you tell me, right now, how did Father punish you? Aside from the single banishment how did he ever punish you? Enforced time in the library? An extra combat lesson or two, perhaps? Maybe, occasionally a whipping for the worst possible offences? How, Thor? How harshly did he ever punish you?"

Casey knew what was coming. She had heard this before. She had heard Loki cry out in his sleep, had listened patiently as he listed all of the various times in his childhood he had been beaten or suffered worse. But she still didn't want to hear it, didn't want to think of her best (her only) friend going through what he had…and so she shut her eyes, as if closing her eyes could somehow also close her ears.

"I'll tell you," Loki went on when Thor just stood there in stunned silence. "I'll tell you, he never punished you…he never punished you, Thor, not once, not ever as harshly as he punished me! When did he ever kill your children? No, when did he cause your children to mutilate one another, destroy your wife's love for you, sew your mouth shut, beat you, whip you raw, chain you up and drip snake venom over your skin, burn you with the harshest words imaginable, ignore you in favor of his other, better son? When did he do all of that to you, Thor? Oh, I recall now-never!"

By the end of this speech, Thor was crying silently, a sight that shocked Casey even more than Loki's words. She had heard this before. She'd known, for a while now, how badly Loki had been treated as a child. But she had never seen Loki cry, not once, and she hadn't thought either he or Thor were even capable of it.

"Loki…" Thor nervously stepped towards his brother. "Loki, please…"

"No." Loki shrank back, closer to Casey.

And Thor noticed. "You would choose her over me?" he asked, and more tears spilled down his face. "Loki, really…you would choose a young mortal you have known but a few Midgardian weeks, over a brother you've known your entire life?"

Loki gave him a fierce glare that would have cowed Thanos himself. "Yes, Thor, I do. This young woman you see here, Thor, has been more of a sister to me than you ever were a brother. She sheltered me, she swore loyalty to me and she kept that promise through the most desperate of situations. You enjoyed the spotlight so, you never even noticed your so-called brother being torn to shreds behind your back…in fact, several times I recall that you ensured it. So no, Thor, I do not think we can 'forgive one another' today. I do not know if I will ever be able to forgive you. Now, if you would be so kind as to excuse me, I cannot bear the sight of you just now."

He released Casey's hand and disappeared, leaving her and Thor standing alone in the kitchen together. Thor stared desperately at the place where Loki had stood, and then turned his eyes on Casey. "What does he mean by 'most desperate of situations?'" he asked, sounding to Casey as if he didn't really want to know the answer.

Casey sighed and looked at the floor. "When S.H.I.E.L.D. came to get us…we were so sure we were done for. Well, I was, anyway. You were there; you saw us in the interrogation room…I would have fought any of your Avenger friends in hand-to-hand combat if I had to, because I was so afraid they were going to take him away from me…"

She became aware then that tears were spilling out of her eyes too, and then Thor was standing right beside her, and she forced herself to look up, into his miserable face. She knew that look. Oh, God, did she ever understand that look. That look, that just-stabbed-in-the-heart look. She'd seen it. She'd worn it. "You would kill for him? Die for him?" Thor asked skeptically. Casey knew he didn't want to believe that she would.

"Thor…you have to understand, he's my best friend. My only friend, really. He's the first person since Agent Romanoff to help me and the first person since my dad to like me, maybe even love me. So, yes, I would have done anything to get him out of there. After everything he's been through, I didn't want to see anyone else hurt him."

"You've known him for so short a time—"

Casey shook her head and cut him off right there. "It doesn't matter. Sometimes when you're meant to be close to someone you just…know. You know you'll do anything for them."

Thor narrowed his eyes at her, just a little, just enough to look threatening. "And are the two of you betrothed?" he asked, in a voice that demanded the truth.

"No," Casey said firmly. "And even if we were it wouldn't change anything. Loki and I understand each other."

"He will turn on you eventually. He thinks Midgardians beneath him," Thor warned her.

"No, he doesn't. He likes us. He admires us, Thor—he read my history textbooks and every night when I came home he'd be all excited to tell me about some new person he'd read about. Abraham Lincoln, for crying out loud, the guy who abolished slavery! Don't tell me he wants to hurt people after he was so thrilled to read that!"

"He tried to destroy Jotunheim! He lied to me and to our entire family to do so!"

"But why?" Casey pressed. "Did you ever ask? He was trying to prove himself. I'm not saying it was right; it wasn't. I'm not excusing what he did. But he regrets it now. Don't ask me how I know that; if I told you he'd never trust me again. He loved you all, you know. You and your parents. He loved Frigga—that is your mother's name, isn't it?—anyway, he loved her more than anything. To find out that she wasn't really his mom…well. He freaked out a little bit. And okay, that freak-out could have killed a few million beings. But it didn't. And his actions were wrong, but his motives were…understandable."

"You have never killed before," Thor interrupted. "What makes you so certain you understand him?"

"No, I haven't killed anyone, you're right. But I'll tell you something. I've wanted to."

Thor's eyes went wide. "No, you have not," he breathed.

"Oh, yes I have. I would have killed the FBI guys who killed my dad if I'd had the chance. But I didn't, and you know why? Because at that moment saving my own life was more important. And because if I let go of my powers at that moment, God only knows what would've happened. I was a little afraid, yeah, but I was more angry and sad than anything else, and if I'd wanted to I could have done some serious damage…but I didn't want to hurt innocent people. And that, Thor, is literally the only thing that separates me and him. He lost control of his emotions and I couldn't afford to do that."

"You didn't want to hurt those innocent people," Thor pointed out. "The people of Jotunheim were innocent."

"But Loki didn't see it that way. He saw them as the enemy. And it was you, or at least your parents, who made sure he thought that way."

Thor fell silent, and paced the kitchen for a few moments. Casey leaned against the countertop behind her and watched him, reflecting on everything that had been said. Thor genuinely didn't believe his brother capable of forgiveness, much less love. That much was clear from the way he spoke of Loki, and Casey knew the only thing that would change his mind was time. But on the flip side, Thor was also far smarter than Loki gave him credit for; he and Casey had managed a great philosophical debate in the short time they'd known each other, and Thor hadn't come up with lame excuses for not believing his brother's side of the story. He had a fair few points on his side.

Like it or not, Casey reflected, both Loki and Thor had an equal share in the problems that lay between them. And that was why, close to Loki as she was, Casey couldn't bring herself to turn against Thor. Because she couldn't help it, she did like him. And he could prove so useful to her. Having more than one person to talk to would be a great relief, for a start.

"Thor. Can I speak candidly?" she said after a long stretch of silence.

Thor at last managed a smile. "You have thus far; what would stop you now?"

"Thank you. Look, I think Loki's a good person. But I think you need to back off and give him a chance to show you that. And I think you should, because I don't know you half as well, but I think you're a good person too, and I think it would really suck if you two kept up this fight longer than it needed to go on. But the only way you're going to make up is if you let him come to you. And I think I can get him to do that, but—can you trust me?"

Thor stopped pacing. Thought about that for a minute. Casey waited patiently, giving no outward sign of the fact that her heart was pounding in her throat. "I think I can," he said at last. "But you must give me your solemn vow to keep him from harm to the best of your abilities in the meantime."

It was Casey's turn to laugh. "Thor. Come on. I blew up a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility and an electronics store, and I outran the government for years. I think I can keep one demigod out of trouble for a couple of weeks."

Thor gave her a heart-stopping smile, and Casey relaxed. In all his tales of home, Loki had been right about one thing: it was difficult to keep yourself from liking Thor. "Then we are, as you said, on the same side." He bounded across the kitchen and, before Casey could protest, he'd swept her up into a warm bear hug.

As a general rule, Casey preferred to keep people at arm's length figuratively and literally. Loki was the first person since the boy from Best Buy whom she'd allowed within a five-foot radius, and even that was only after she'd actually read his mind and seen that he meant her no harm. She hadn't yet had the opportunity to do that with Thor. But when he clasped her to his chest and she could hear his heartbeat through his shirt, and she heard what he was saying—"Lady Casey, I am truly grateful for what you have done for my brother"—she knew, just as she'd known with Loki, that he meant her no harm.

So instead of fighting him off, Casey laid her head on Thor's chest and hugged him back for all she was worth.

0o0o0

Angry as he was, Loki remembered his promise not to leave the Tower without an escort, and though he thought himself far beyond any Midgardian technology that could be used against him, he feared that his disobedience would mean repercussion for Casey, and so he stayed within the walls of Stark Tower even when escaping his brother. He took refuge in the library, knowing that Thor was unlikely to go there unless strictly ordered to do so, and hid among the stacks of antique books that Stark had most likely forgotten he had. Loki much preferred these to the fresh, clean, just-off-the-presses books that occupied most of the library; they smelled like home, all musty and worn and well-loved.

Loki picked up the nearest book, an account of the life of Benvenuto Cellini, a mortal artist whom he'd once read about in one of Casey's history textbooks, and began to read, but abandoned his attempt less than one sentence in. There was no point in trying to distract himself. That much was plain. He'd be thinking about that fight with Thor for the rest of the day.

"You would choose a young mortal you have known but a few Midgardian weeks, over a brother you've known your entire life?"

Loki snorted at the memory. Really, but Midgardians made the worst fusses about these things, and it was clear Thor had fallen into the same trap. What did it matter if he had known the girl a short time? She had protected him. She had kept him in her room, allowed him into her very bed, shared with him all of the knowledge and material supplies that she had, extended the hand of friendship after knowing him for only a few minutes. She, Loki was certain, understood him better than anyone he had ever met. After the harsh treatment from Thanos, and the cutting disappointment from Odin, and the bitter words from Thor, her room had been a sanctuary, a place of relief, just as this library was now.

So far, there had been only two people who seemed to understand where he was coming from in regard to Casey: Fury and Stark. Fury had seemed more interested in protecting his new assets—and that was not Loki's arrogance speaking, that was the truth; Loki and Casey were great advantages against plain Midgardian enemies and Loki knew it—than punishing Loki for misdeeds that had occurred on Asgard. And Stark, ostentatious and obnoxious as he seemed, had given Loki the room directly adjacent to Casey's, so he clearly understood at least a little that they needed to be near each other. But he seemed to be using Casey as a means to get Thor together with Dr. Banner, a match that Loki wasn't even going to attempt to understand. But even so, Loki appreciated that Stark planned to put him and Casey together in the end, and much as he disliked the idea of Casey being manipulated in such a way, no one appreciated a good plot like Loki, and Stark's seemed pretty solid.

But everyone else seemed so…suspicious. Rogers, the clean-cut boy who had shown Loki to his room, kept his careful distance, which would have suited Loki just fine had the kid not given off an air of please don't kill me. Loki enjoyed being respected, but he did not like the mistrust that had radiated off the soldier in waves. Loki wanted to be revered, not deeply feared. And Natasha had eyed him through their whole meeting, as though she expected him to go off like the bombs that the Midgardians were so fearful of. Barton, her partner, had not looked at him at all. And Banner…well, Loki would just as soon not have had him present at all. He didn't like the way Banner looked at Casey. And he didn't like the idea of Casey spending so much time in an enclosed space with a man who literally transformed into a beast of destruction.

As for Thor…well, there it was. It all came back to Thor. Perfect Thor, against whom Loki would never measure up. He should never have left Casey alone with Thor; if she preferred him to Loki upon their next meeting, it would be too much for Loki to handle. And that was, in the grand scheme of things, the least of his problems. Thor had always been in denial. He'd always been so arrogant, so greedy, so hungry for the spotlight and so well-pleased with himself when he got it, that he had never stopped and looked over his shoulder at the brother who couldn't escape his shadow.

Loki knew, even as he sat there and stewed in his own anger, that Odin was more to blame than Thor. But Thor was a lapdog just as Loki was a scapegoat, and Loki was too angry to let that slide. Even if Thor was completely innocent—but he wasn't, Loki thought, even if Thor hadn't physically harmed him (and there was a time or two that he had) he would still be guilty for allowing Odin to harm his brother without even attempting to intervene. And he should have, because for all his loyalty to Odin now, Loki recalled that for much of his life, Thor had been so arrogant he'd questioned the All-Father at every turn, even over things as small as whether or not there should be a dessert served with every meal.

He sensed a new presence before the person came into view. When he looked up he saw Stark, now in civilian clothes, approaching slowly, hands held out in the universal gesture of "I mean no harm." Loki nodded curtly, and Stark relaxed, letting his hands drop as he pulled up a chair at Loki's desk. "Mind a bit of company?" he asked.

Loki shrugged and set down his book, as if he'd actually been reading it. "I do not mind your presence, no."

"Good. 'Cause, uh, I was gonna stay anyway." Stark pulled a flask out of his pocket and took a hit. He inclined the metal bottle towards Loki, who caught the heavy, overpowering fumes of the drink inside almost immediately. "Want a drink? You look like you could use one."

Loki shook his head. "I do not care for such strong mixtures."

"C'mon up to my bar," Stark suggested. "I've got just about every kind of alcohol you can imagine. Pick your poison, I either got it or I can get it in less than a day."

Loki smiled in spite of himself. "Another time, perhaps."

"Your choice." Stark shrugged and shoved the flask back in his pocket. "Any reason why you're hiding out here all alone?"

"I wished to avoid the company of my brother." Loki would lose nothing by being honest. After all, it wasn't as though it were a secret that he and Thor didn't get along.

"Understandable." Stark nodded. "Look, I kind of suck at this feelings shit, okay? But look…I get the whole daddy-issues thing. Been there, done that. Got the souvenir t-shirt. You get that? So if you need someone to talk to whose dad was a total ass wipe…I'm available. And like I said, I got alcohol out the ass. So you ever need a man-to-man talk, I'm…well, your man. Okay?"

Loki knew he'd liked Stark from the outset. Here was another reason to do so. Stark had every reason to mistrust him. Loki was no fool; he knew that the doppelganger had done a number on the Avengers and all they cared about, and he knew his story was far-fetched. But Tony Stark, this insane billionaire with more wealth and connections than any Midgardian he'd met so far, believed him. And he was offering not just his home, but his friendship. And as little use as Loki had ever had for friends, he had to give Stark some credit. In terms of personality, Stark seemed more like Loki than anyone else from Midgard. And Loki would be lying, rather badly, if he said he didn't like that.

"I shall take your offer into consideration," he said politely. "And while you are here, I suppose I ought to thank you for your hospitality. Lady Casey and I are most grateful—"

"No problem." Stark waved a hand noncommittally. "You two might well be future Avengers. You're family now."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Well, that was rather quick."

"What do you mean?"

"Only that your brothers-in-arms seem to trust me roughly as far as they could throw a pastry underwater."

Stark let out a roaring laugh at that. "Well, fuck me with a chainsaw, Loki, don't you see why?"

Loki pulled a face. "That is a most unpleasant interjection…but yes, I do see why."

"Well, then, give them time and they'll get their shit together. Just let them see you're not a bad guy."

At that Loki looked down at the cover of his book. "Except…I am."

"Really?" Stark snorted. "What, did you say 'please and thank you' too loud as a child?"

"I tried to destroy a realm in order to prove myself a good king."

Stark shrugged again. "Yeah, well, I sold weapons that killed millions of people. We all got our demons. Just don't let it define you. 'Cause if the way Casey was looking at you in S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters says anything, you're way better than that."

And Loki was sure that saying that was part of Stark's plan to push him and Casey together. But that was exactly what Loki wanted—to have Casey all for himself; to beat the scientist in the race for her hand. And he liked Tony Stark, and believed (or wanted to believe) that Tony Stark liked him too. And so Loki decided, for the moment, to believe that Stark meant what he said.