All Previous Disclaimers Apply.

A/N: I intended there to be sexy times. The men didn't cooperate. Originally this was a monster chapter, so I split it into two. Hopefully the chapter after next will have some fun for our hot men. If you're still reading, thank you. :)


"Young miss, you wait until the car comes to a full stop before jumping out like that!" Len growled at his daughter, rougher than he intended because of the potential harm she could have caused herself by leaping from a moving vehicle and his fear at picturing it, even though she was becoming as nimble as the cat her eyes suggested. Since they'd come to this town, where she and others like her were judged by who they were, not what they were, she'd let herself relax more and more, let herself not worry so much about looking human all the time. Because she was more than human. Her reflexes were incredible and she was stronger than any nine-year-old girl should be. She was spectacular, gorgeous, and he often had a hard time believing that someone like him had had any single part in creating someone so stunning. Getting to know her as she got to know herself was a joy. He felt his heart skip a beat, then fill so much he thought it might be in his throat when she turned and grinned at him, her incisors just a little longer than her other teeth, giving her the look of fangs. She was so happy. He couldn't help but grin back.

"Sorry, Papa," She giggled in the playful voice he loved and was hearing more and more of lately.

"I know you think you can handle anything, baby girl," He said quietly, moving to her and setting a hand to her cheek, "Hell, you probably can, but have a care for your papa's heart, okay?"

"Sorry, Papa," She said more seriously, "I promise I'll be more careful. At least where you can see."

"'Bout as much as I can expect," He agreed and swatted her backside gently as she scampered up the steps, used the columns to climb and flip herself onto the porch roof where she ran along the snow-covered shingles and jumped into the window of Jake and Jamie's room that he was sure they had opened in anticipation of her joining them for dinner. He finally let out his breath when she was inside and relatively safe again, and set his hands to suddenly weak knees before leaning over and dropping his head to slow the tempo of his heartbeat.

"Oh! She's exquisite!"

Len turned quickly, his heart in his throat again, at the unfamiliar female voice to his left. He was momentarily blinded by the late afternoon sun and put his hand up to see who had spoken. He'd never seen her before, but he'd heard enough about her to know who he was looking at the moment he saw her. She was sitting next to the fire pit, which he hadn't realized was lit until he saw it blazing, wrapped in a cloak rather than a winter jacket, Pavel on her lap, content as she held him within the folds of heavy fabric. Her face was just beginning to show lines of age, some at the corners of her eyes, some around her mouth, all showing just how much she loved to laugh and smile. Her eyes were the dark blue of a stormy ocean and her hair was a riotous pile of disorganized, dark caramel curls that flowed nearly down to her waist.

"You're Steve's mama," He blurted before he remembered his manners, "Leonard McCoy, ma'am. Pleased to meet you..." He started forward, holding out his hand, before he realized his didn't actually know her name. Steve had always just referred to her as his mother.

She stood as he made his way over to her, laughing like the tinkling of silver bells when Pavel saw him and shrieked a greeting before reaching for him. He murmured a quick, "Hey, Pasha," as he took the baby from her and tucked him into his jacket to keep his little body warm. Pavel smiled up at him and patted his five o'clock shadow with a little coo. Len nuzzled into the sweet-smelling skin until he got a giggle and looked back up at the woman who was smiling gently at both of them. He was surprised to see her clothing under the heavy cloak was relatively simple, just jeans and a pretty sweater. She was a few inches shorter than he was, but the way she held herself made her seem very tall and imposing, royal even.

"Anyone who can make Pasha giggle like that and my Steven smile as much as you have can call me Frigga," She took his offered hand and shook it firmly. He wasn't surprised at the strength in her grip, but he was surprised at the knowledge in her eyes. He felt as if he was laid bare before her, that she knew everything about him, everything he had ever done and everything he would ever do. But, surprisingly, the idea didn't make him squirm. It was actually comforting not to feel as if he had to hide anything from her. It had been so long since there was anyone he'd felt that way with. Steve was another, but he hadn't told him everything yet. With Frigga he didn't feel the need to say anything at all.

"He'll share your pain if you let him," She released his hand, then cupped his face with both of hers, "Leonard." She smiled again, brighter this time, "I like you very much. Come, let us get a warm drink and speak more while the boys finish with dinner." She put her arm through the crook of his elbow and they made their way up the steps.

"Your daughter is beautiful," She commented as she opened the door, "Steven tells me she gets along famously with Jake and Jamie, as if the two were always meant to be three and finally found their missing part."

"She feels the same way," Len grinned, "She's more comfortable with them than she ever was on her own. Don't know how much longer any of them are going to stand being apart even overnight."

"Hmm," Frigga made a sound like she had all the answers but wasn't yet willing to share them. Len helped her off with her cloak and then accepted her help to get his coat off as he was still holding Pasha. He kissed the messy curls again. Pasha was just such a good baby. All he did was settle himself on Len's hip and grip Len's shirt to keep himself steady.

"You hungry, baby?" Len asked quietly and smiled when Pasha grinned up at him, "Something smells incredible!" He called as he stepped toward the kitchen.

"Of course it does," Steve called back. Len was surprised when he stepped into the room and saw Steve, not at the stove, but sitting at the table with Kurt, helping him with his math homework, "Loki's the one cooking."

"Loki…" Len turned to the stove and felt his heart speed and his adrenaline rise when the tall, slim man turned around. There was no one on earth who would not recognize the man who had led an army to the near destruction of Manhattan and had ordered the deaths of thousands. He felt parts of his personality that he hadn't needed in years come to the forefront of his mind as he handed Steve the baby and reached for the gun he no longer carried. The man before him looked shocked for only a moment before he affected a bored expression and leaned against the sink, wiping his hands with a dishtowel.

"Steve, get the kids out of here!" He growled

"Leonard," Steve approached him slowly, recognizing the stance even though it surprised him, "Leonard, calm down," He murmured soothingly, "Everyone is safe. The kids are all safe. Loki would never hurt them. He loves them. I'm going to touch you now." He said right before he put his hands on his lover's tense shoulders. He could feel the tension draining out of them and slipped around him so that Leonard was looking right at him and would not be able to see Loki past him. He recognized the moment Leonard came fully back to himself when he blinked and straightened from his defensive crouch.

"What the actual fuck is going on here?" He shouted.

"I'm gonna take Pasha to play. Bye!" Kurt called out and disappeared from the room in a puff of smoke, leaving the adults behind to work things out.

"Steven!" Frigga broke the tension by slapping Steve upside the head, "Did you never actually say anything about yourself? And you!" She smacked Len upside the head as well, "Did you never think to ask?!"

"Ma!" Steve protested.

"Mother!" Loki called at the same time.

"What the hell is going on?" Len shouted again.

"Go. Both of you." Frigga began to push them out of the door with a strength that shouldn't have surprised Len and yet somehow still did, "Go to Leonard's house. Talk. Do not come back until you've reached an understanding."

"Like hell am I leaving my baby in the house was an insane mass murderer!" Len growled.

"Len," Steve turned hurt eyes on him, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Len answered after a moment.

"Do you trust that I love your daughter enough to never put her in a situation where anyone would hurt her?"

"Yes," Len answered again, a little more reluctantly.

"Then, trust me now. Loki will not hurt her. He never could, never would. Ma's right. We need to talk. Go out to the car. I'll be right there."

Steve leaned against the counter, all of the tension going out of his body as Len stormed out of the house and slammed the door behind himself. He took a couple of deep breaths and fought back a couple of tears as his mother wrapped him in her arms, bringing his head down to her shoulder and stroking his hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist and let himself hide from the world for exactly five seconds before he pulled back and tried to reflect her calm smile back at her.

"He loves you, my son," She murmured, "He will understand."

"And what if he doesn't?" Steve asked, feeling like a child.

"If it is a matter of me or him…" Loki began quietly, "Then I will not visit again. Mother can bring Neville to Asgard easily for our lessons, though he will not need them very much longer. He's outpacing me and he's doing it quickly." Steve could see how miserable Loki was at the idea of not coming back to the house, even though he would never actually say it out loud. He was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed protectively over his chest, and he wouldn't look at either of them, letting his long hair shield his face from them.

Steve had been so unsure when Loki first came into his life, had tended to keep him where he could see him at all times, but he'd proved himself over the years. He was a kind, patient teacher with Neville and he was nothing but supportive and loving to the other children. He disguised himself, and often Steve didn't even know who he was, but the next time he spoke with the children he often discussed whatever meet, game, or production he'd attended, praising their performances and giving them pointers for the next time. The only time Steve had seen Loki truly happy, joy written on every inch of his face, was when he was playing with the children in the autumn leaves, laughing so hard he could barely breathe as they ganged up on him to put leaves down the back of his shirt.

He knew from Frigga that life was still difficult for Loki in Asgard, despite the proof of his innocence that had been brought forward. Rumors flew that he had somehow managed to fabricate the spell Frigga had unworked and the memories that Odin had read to prove his innocence. The courtiers were polite, but distant when he came to feasts, not wanting to ruin their own social standing by being seen to be friendly with him. Odin was the same. He had never been a particularly affectionate man, but the rebellion of both of his sons had forced him into a formality with all but his wife that had never been there before. Thor was loving and brotherly when he was home, butt mortal lives were so brief none could fault him for spending as much time as he could with Jane on Midgard while he was able. They had hundreds of years to work their way back to being a family, of course, but it didn't make the present any less difficult for him. Frigga had told him in confidence one day when they found Loki sleeping on the couch, Pavel sleeping peacefully on his chest, that Loki seemed so much more natural, so much more at peace when he was at Steve's teaching Neville or playing with the other children, clothed in the jeans and sweaters that he'd often scoffed at before.

Over the years Steve had come to see Loki as he truly was. Insecure, scared, but with so much potential, so much honor. And he was so gentle with the children. A fool could see just how much he loved all of them. And how much they adored him. Even if Loki hadn't had a single other redeemable feature, Steve would have had some kind of affection for him just because of the love they shared for the children. They had become…friends wasn't the right word. They often didn't like each other much, Loki found him too enthusiastic, too unrealistic about the future. He found Loki too dour, still too willing to be cruel when he was hurt, backed into a corner, or it suited his mood. But, there was love there. The love of family and the knowledge that he would give his life for Loki, and happily, if it ever came down to it.

"Loki," he pulled out of Frigga's arms and crossed the room in two large strides before he swept the slighter man into his arms and hugged him close. Loki was stiff for only a moment before Steve felt him melt and his arms come up to return the hug. So desperate for affection. Steve held him for nearly a minute before he let him go, "Don't you think your happiness means more to me than that?"

For a moment Steve saw a vulnerability in Loki he'd never seen before and he had to wonder just how much of their personality clashes was Loki keeping him at arms' length for fear of being hurt, being rejected. For a moment, he felt infinitely older than Loki, despite their actual age difference. In some ways, he was older than Loki.

"Brother, thank you." Loki murmured, only loud enough for Steve to hear, "If things do not work out come back and Mother and I will console you with alcohol and ice cream, as Clarice assures me is Midgardian tradition. If all does work out I will be extremely disappointed to see you again before the sun." His grin was wicked and forced a laugh out of Steve that effectively cut through his nerves until he sat in the car next to Len, who didn't even look at him before turning the key and pulling out of the drive.

It was an uncomfortable, tense fifteen-minute ride and when they got to the cottage Len got out without a word and stalked into the house. Steve followed a little more slowly, unsurprised when Len was sitting at the dining room table, a bottle of whiskey and two small glasses in front of him, both already full. It was how Len dealt with all uncomfortable conversations, like telling Steve about Jocelyn and their divorce. Steve sighed as Len knocked back his first drink and refilled his glass before motioning for Steve to take a seat impatiently.

"Tell me why I just left my daughter in a house with a psychotic mass murder and how the hell you even know said psychotic mass murdered before I decide that you're insane and take my girl and disappear forever."

"Please don't do that," Steve said quickly, "JoJo and Jake and Jamie would be devastated," He sighed, "I'll tell you everything. I'm sorry for the shock, Len, I…I really thought you knew and were just being polite by not bringing it up. Not having to think about it was…refreshing." Len finally took stock of the pain in Steve's eyes and allowed himself to soften.

"You thought I knew what, Steve?"

"Who I was…am…" Steve ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. Len reached across the table and took his hand.

"Tell me."