Tony was almost to the door of the common room when he heard a loud startled shout; Steve, by the sound of it, followed a moment later buy a yell from Clint. He raced forward, wondering if he was going to need to suit up as well, and came to a sudden stop just inside the doorway, an undignified yelp escaping his own lips.
There was a lion in the common room.
Not a lion, he slowly began to realize as he took a second, closer look at it. It didn't have much of a mane – more of a small ruff of slightly longer, darker hairs – and the coat was subtly dappled, not an even colour. Then Loki turned his head to look at Tony – golden eyes this time, he noticed in passing – the two huge fangs projecting from its mouth making it obvious just what it actually was. That was a giant fucking sabre-toothed tiger in the common room.
He glanced across the room, to where Cap and Clint were standing in the elevator lobby, both of them looking pale as they peered in at Loki. A faint chime signalled the arrival of Natasha, who too her credit only froze and gasped on sighting Loki's new form.
"Are we still sure he can't hurt us?" Clint called out uneasily.
"Um. Yeah... maybe?" Tony answered, and edged a couple feet further into the room. "You know, I'm suddenly really glad that I planned the tower to have such high weight-bearing tolerances."
"That's got to weigh a lot more than your Iron Man suits do, Tony," Steve pointed out.
"Yeah, but these floors of the tower were all retrofitted to be able to support the Hulk plus extensive company, so I think we're good. Probably," he added, feeling the rider might actually be necessary, and forced himself to take another step closer to Loki.
Loki, for his part, just lay there staring at him, eyes slitting partially closed. Claws slid out from the toes of his front paws, big sharp claws that put Tony even more on edge than the obvious fangs did.
"I have a sudden craving for breakfast out," Clint said, a little breathlessly.
"You know, so do I," Steve agreed.
"I know a good place for pancakes nearby," Natasha said calmly.
"As good as your blintzes?" Clint asked, sounding interested.
"No. But they're good pancakes."
"Sounds good to me," Tony said, and then grasped his fraying control firmly in hand and darted around the edge of the room, joining them in the lobby.
"Don't forget you need to feed him," Clint said, nodding his head in Loki's direction.
"I know," Tony said, making a face. "And I'll feel much more up to it once I've had some coffee. A lot of coffee. Also, we don't have anywhere near enough meat on hand to feed a carnivore that big." He turned back and pointed at Loki. "It's your own fault your breakfast will be late! I'm going to need to get a butcher to deliver a side of mutton or beef or something. So no complaints!"
Loki just stared at him, then licked his lips in a manner that suggested there were other things he could eat, and not at all in the fun way of being eaten. The Avengers hurriedly piled into the elevator and headed downstairs, Natasha quickly leading them out of the building and south past Grand Central Station, to a restaurant tucked in underneath the Park Avenue Viaduct.
"Oh, hey, I've eaten here before," Cap said, looking pleased. "Though for lunch, not breakfast. They do really good sandwiches."
They were soon seated in the restaurant, most of them ordering the buttermilk pancakes, though Steve opted for the New Yorker breakfast instead, with a side of corned beef hash. Tony spent the time until their food arrived on his phone, tracking down a butcher willing to deliver to the tower, and offering a sizable tip to have the meat delivered within the hour.
"Man, I wish you were paying for my food. I don't think I've ever paid that much for meat in, even over a six month period," Clint spoke up.
"I am paying for your food, Clint... and your housing. And most of your toys," Tony pointed out. "Who do you think makes sure the cupboards are stocked and the living room full of good movies and games?"
"Jarvis," Clint and Natasha both said, Steve saying "Pepper" at almost the same time.
"Wait, what, Pepper? Jarvis I could maybe agree with, though it's my credit card he's using for all of that so it's still, you know, technically me. What about Pepper?"
Steve smiled. "Pepper brings by games and movies she thinks I'd like. And snacks. And books."
"Books. You mean actual dead trees? I thought I gave you a tablet with accounts at all the big ebook retailers?"
"You did. And I like it, a lot. But there's a lot of books I want to read that aren't available as ebooks, and I kind of like real books, especially when it comes to art books. There's a difference between a tiny little digital screen and a folio-sized coffee table book, you know."
"There is? I mean, there is. Obviously. So you like big books?"
Steve smiled again, looking amused. "Yes, I like big books."
Clint dissolved in laughter. Steve looked over at him, smile widening. "And yes, I get that reference, even misquoted." Even Natasha smiled a little at that, and Tony found a bark of laughter escaping him.
"You're getting the hang of this whole pop culture thing," he said approvingly.
"Believe it or not, we had pop culture in the 40s, we just didn't call it that. And most of my references you probably wouldn't get, since their time is so far past, Daddy Warbucks."
Tony gasped and reeled as if he'd been hit, almost falling out of his chair. "Daddy Warbucks. Daddy Warbucks. Okay, I actually got that reference, but only because Pepper has a low taste in musicals. Does that mean you're little orphan Annie?"
"No, I'd be Annie and Clint is obviously my loyal dog Sandy," Natasha said, smiling. "I'm thinking Steve is more of the Li'l Abner or Joe Palooka type."
Steve positively beamed at Natasha. "I think I prefer Li'l Abner, though we're not much alike; I was a scrawny little guy until the serum. And a city boy."
"Wait, wait, wait... what is Natasha doing with more knowledge of vintage Americana than I have?" Tony asked.
"I studied it, both as part of my training and later, when I was just curious; most of my work since joining SHIELD has been based out of the States, after all."
Clint grinned. "And she has a low taste in newspaper comics. You should see her collection. I don't think I've ever seen as many Giles annuals in one place before."
"Giles?" Steve said, perking up further. "I think I remember that name... British cartoonist, wasn't he?"
"Yes. He was just starting out during the war. I'll loan you some to read, if you like, though you need to handle them carefully; the oldest editions are a little fragile."
"I'd like that," Steve said, smiling fondly at her. "Thank you."
"All right, enough group bonding," Tony interrupted. "More important things to talk about than antique comics, as fascinating as the subject clearly is to some of you."
"These things being?" Steve asked.
"Loki, Thor, Asgard being at war against the chitauri, wondering why they were after Loki and what makes him any safer sitting here in Stark Tower than he was in a jail cell on Asgard... In Asgard? At Asgard? Whatever. We weren't really given any chance to ask questions or think it over before Thor dumped him on us – on me, more particularly – and the more I've thought about it since, the more unanswered questions I find myself having. Also wondering just how long we're stuck with him for, and if this artifact-spell-friendship-bracelet-from-hell-thing has anything like an expiration date," he finished, tapping one finger against where the crystal bead was hidden under his clothes.
That set the rest of them to frowning. "Thor wasn't exactly very forthcoming on details, was he," Clint said after a brief silence.
"No, he wasn't," Natasha agreed. "But I don't see how we're to find out any further details at this point; he's not on hand to be asked."
"No, but we do have another Asgardian on hand," Clint pointed out.
"Aesir," Steve and Tony said, pretty much in sync. "The correct term is Aesir," Steve explained.
"Aesir, Asgardian, whatever," Clint said, making an impatient gesture. "We do have Loki on hand, and it's clear he can understand what we say."
"The problem is persuading him to attempt to answer our questions," Steve said.
"That's just one of the problems," Tony corrected. "There's also the small issue of whether or not we can actually trust anything he says, if we can manage to get him talking. Well, not so much talking since right now he can't, but if we can get him playing an ongoing game of twenty questions with us."
"Judging by his little display this morning, I don't think he's particularly inclined to be friendly," Natasha said.
"Turning into a carnivore the size of a full-size sedan does seem rather a bit of a fuck off signal," Tony agreed. "Hostile. Also, scary. Just glad I had the floors reinforced for... oh shit," he said, freezing as a realization hit him, and quickly fumbling his phone out of his pocket to check the time.
"What?" Steve asked worriedly.
"Bruce. He was supposed to be arriving at the airport early this morning, I arranged a limo to pick him up..." Tony said distractedly as he quickly dialled through to his new driver, still missing Happy, who worked for Pepper now, not Tony. "Hey! It's me... did you pick up Dr Banner? Yes? Okay, keep him in the... you already dropped him off? Shit!" he exclaimed, and bolted from the restaurant, not even breaking stride as he dropped a handful of large bills on their waitress's tray in passing, the rest of the team following at his heels.