"You wanted to talk. So talk." Tony demanded, walking backwards through his own workshop door as Loki descended the stairs. "But first, how the hell did you get yourself shot?"

Out of the sight lines of the Avengers, Loki gave a grunt, finally acknowledging his wound with a careful hand over his damaged armor. He tried to roll his shoulder, but could only cringe and hiss at the attempt.

"'Tis little mat-"

"'Tis but a scratch,' I'm sure." Tony snipped, his sarcasm dry. "Sit. Table. Now."

Loki leveled him a heavy glare through lidded eyes, but he was in too much pain to threaten a gruesome death. Ultimately, he would compromise, peeling off his coat as he eased himself down into a chair next to the worktable (not on the table, as Tony rudely demanded) . He proceeded to become as still as stone, like he was some oddly placed statue. A bleeding statue that couldn't quite keep a hold on his labored breathing, but as cold as marble anyway.

Instead of commenting on how tense the so-called god was when he approached, Tony just batted Loki's hand away from the wound like he owned the damn place (technically, he did) and took a look at the damage. Loki only barely hid his flinch, and Tony pretended not to see that either.

"Let's get this off."

It didn't take him long to figure out that Asgard's fashion sense was far less practical than Earth's. There was an obscene amount of leather straps and buckles attached to the shoulder plate and Tony couldn't tell one end from the other. His mouth twisted into a grimace. He didn't have time for this shit.

Glancing an opportunity and acting on a stupid, stupid whim, Tony channeled his very best Mr. Miyagi and darted for one of the daggers at Loki's waist. Loki noticed too late; he twisted oddly in an attempt to thwart the theft, but Tony already had the blade in hand, a dumb, shocked smile on his face. He couldn't help a short little laugh.

"Sorry." He wasn't sorry.

Then Tony was slicing through leather and prying away buckles, a touch of adrenaline in his veins. The armor fell away piece by golden piece and Loki could only awkwardly stretch his neck away from the mad man with a blade (which, for once, was not himself). If he had anything to say about having a dagger stolen from him, Tony was sure he'd be bitched out for it later.

The last piece of armor soon clamored to the ground, but there was no celebrating. After tugging a black tunic half off Loki, the wound he revealed was... Well, it was pretty fucked up. The bullet had blown a bloody, half-dollar sized hole straight through Loki's collarbone and shoulder joint, obliterating the space between arm and chest. Blood still oozed from the clotted masses of entry and exit, and Tony was proud of himself for keeping his lunch down.

"Through and through, it looks like." He muttered, glancing at the red-black blood on his fingertips. It wasn't the right color, but Loki couldn't exactly be held to human standards. "That's... good?"

Loki glanced up at Tony, expectant. "Deal with it how you will. I do not intend to let it hinder me."

Tony gave a little snort, shaking his head. He wiped his hand on a rag.

"God or not, you still got shot. Hurts like a bitch, doesn't it?"

Loki raised a brow. "Do I detect sympathy? I would imagine your armor would render you impervious to such wounds."

DUM-E rolled up and Tony took the first aid kit from its outstretched claw. He shrugged. "Been shot at , never shot. But I imagine shrapnel to the chest feels the same. Now shut up and let me work."

Loki was silent for a moment, thoughtful. His eyes glanced to the arc reactor, but they flicked away before Tony could notice.

"We still..." Tony poured a liberal amount of alcohol on the wound, causing Loki to hiss and grit his teeth in pain. "...have things to speak on, Anthony."

Tony made a face.

"Yeah, let's start with Russia-"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Was it not mere days ago you criticized me for spying?"

"Now we're even." Tony shot back. "What the fuck were you doing running around there? What happened to Svartheim-"

"Svartalfheim."

"Gesundheit." He pressed gauze to Loki's shoulder. "You were supposed to be planet-hopping, Loki, not dicking around in the snow."

"I visited the realms, as planned." Loki hissed, closing his eyes as Tony handled his shoulder. Iron Man definitely had no future as a healer. "Once those quests were completed, there were other pressing matters to attend to."

"Like getting sniped?"

"Yes, Stark. My entire purpose was to obtain an injury merely to inconvenience you."

Being on the receiving side of sarcasm wasn't nearly as fun. Ignoring the slightest pang of guilt, Tony frowned as he pulled out bandages.

"...What did you learn?" he said, changing the subject.

"Much." Loki sighed. "And little, at the same time."

The remaining trickle of blood was staining white skin a sickening shade of black. Tony tried not to stare.

"Whoever told you riddles were cool is a liar." Loki's eyes went to the heavens in veiled exasperation. Tony pretended not to notice. "Is this about what you said on the roof? About this being bigger than I knew?"

Loki glanced over to him and exhaled, a slight amusement accompanying his exhaustion. "Impressive. I had been under the assumption you had no recollection of that night-" Tony's hand slipped and a thumb jabbed the wound on accident. Loki cursed at him. "Would you kindly watch what you're doing?"

With a huff, Loki shrugged out of Tony's hold and took matters into his own hands. While attempting to tie his own bandages - and succeeding, the stubborn bastard - green energy arced between his fingertips and he was already casting spells. Tony cracked his knuckles as the fluorescent lights flickered green above his head. But Loki seemed no better off for exerting himself; he swayed dangerously to one side and caught himself on the table, blinking as he eased himself into a different chair.

"We can speak freely now." He seemed to have composed himself, the magic no longer dancing on his fingertips. With care, he pulled his tunic back into the proper place over his bandages and folded his hands together on the table in front of him.

Feeling the worst coming on, Tony moved for the mini-fridge.

"Sounds like this conversation needs a drink."

Loki gave the slightest laugh and nodded.

"If your alcoholism wasn't so convenient, I might warn you against it." Loki gladly accepted the glass of amber liquid when it was offered to him. This time, he didn't hesitate to drink. He knocked back the expensive scotch like it was nothing. Bastard.

He re-filled Loki's glass and took a swig of his own drink, letting its warmth run down his throat. It didn't soothe like it should. But that didn't stop him from sitting on the other side of the table, kicking his feet up onto the surface as he leaned back in his chair.

"Well?"

"I took a detour to Asgard."

Tony paused, drink stilling in his hand. His mouth opened to retort, but he couldn't find the right words quick enough. He settled for something simple instead of witty.

"Are you-?"

"Insane? Mad?" Loki offered, tone dry. "I thought that had been established."

"They could have thrown you back in those fucking dungeons."

"They did not. My presence went unnoticed, I assure you. I had a request to make of my Mother."

Tony's brow furrowed.

"What's your Mom going to do? You already played that card. She busted our asses out."

Loki cast him a patient, tired gaze.

"Frigga is the Queen of Asgard and of the Nine Realms, Stark. Her resources are limitless. Do not doubt an invaluable ally because I call her Mother."

"She isn't our only ally, mama's boy." Tony pointed out, taking a drink and crossing his legs at the ankles. "But whatever. What'd you ask her for?"

A pause. Loki was choosing his word carefully.

"There is more at work here than Amora and her infatuations." he admitted, seemingly ignoring the question as his eyes drifting down to his glass. "My enemies are numerous and Amora saw an opportunity in aligning herself with them. If we are not prepared, they are like to overwhelm us." He drank, swallowed. "The Chitauri return."

Silence. Tony's hand tightened on the glass he held, anxiety creeping into his chest.

"...I'm listening."

"My agreement with Thanos was that in return for the Tesseract, he would leave me to rule this little world. He would provide me with the means to conquer you: a weapon and an army." Loki explained. "His general bequeathed to me the scepter you saw. There is a stone embedded in it's blade, which granted me the ability to lead the armies I was given. It also allowed me to enlist others into my care."

His care. Tony would bet half of Stark Industries that Clint would have something to say about that.

"Like Hawk."

"Indeed. I enthralled your Clint Barton, Thor's Erik Selvig, and many others." Tony caught a glimpse of the past skating through Loki's eyes. "The stone is known as the Mind Stone. It is just as valuable as the Tesseract, and I was expected to return it upon my victory. It was made transparently clear that I would not have a head upon my shoulders were I to disobey that order."

"But we beat you." Just like Loki had wanted.

"Aye. The Tesseract was lost to Asgard and the Mind Stone was lost to Midgard. Thanos was without his treasures and weaker for it. No doubt he seeks to have them returned and the whole universe knows of it. Amora is an opportunist, and a convincing one."

Loki set his drink down, carefully rolling his bad shoulder. The lights flickered blue, then green.

"But I intend to cut their plans short."

"Sir." JARVIS' tone was in warning.

Loki snapped his fingers and a flare of dimensional magic burned on the table between them, tearing open reality long enough for Loki to summon his secrets from beyond. Tony cursed and pulled his feet down, but the green flames were already flickering and dying, leaving him unscorched.

"We have been entrusted with the means to stop them."

It didn't make immediate sense. There were two objects on the table shielded from sight by the dying fire. Tony opened his mouth in question, but then the flames died and so did his words. He was standing and his heart was in his throat. He had to remember to breathe.

" How did you...?" These were supposed to be locked away safe, so that exactly this couldn't happen.

"Mothers will do anything for their sons." Loki stood, ghosting around the table to stand at Tony's side. For an injured man, he moved too gracefully. "I will show you how they must be used. I will use them myself. With them, we can finish this."

A careful hand came to touch Tony's jaw, guiding his eyes away from the weapons display.

"Can you weather the storm that shall come?"

With those long fingers against the fringe of his goatee, Tony found himself silenced again and it was disturbingly hard to think. Really hard. He should be mad about this, raging, but instead his lips parted in silence and he looked up at Loki. A thumb was brushing over his bottom lip and an odd warmth bloom beneath his mess of a rib cage. Loki was a crazy son of a bitch.

Oh, fuck .

"Can you?" Tony managed back, fingertips brushing over the back of Loki's hand.

His wicked mouth twitched into half a smile. "What is life without a little... thunder?"

But this suddenly wasn't about thunder and war anymore. Loki had moved in close to Tony, his hand still on his face and the other on the table, and he was leaning in. Leaning over, a skyscraper in comparison, his shadow long enough to swallow him whole...

"Breathe, Tony."

He obeyed. Then Loki's hand on his jaw skated down his neck and over his shoulder, dragging down though a grease stain on his bicep. He paused just above the elbow, squeezing.

"Why?" Loki breathed, eyes intent upon Tony.

"Why what?" Tony blinked, keeping himself right. Six feet of tall and handsome wouldn't make him swoon like a school girl, no it wouldn't. But he couldn't pull his eyes from that column of white neck, which moved as Loki tilted his head.

"Why do you trust me?"

Fuck, he didn't know. He had never known. He knew he shouldn't.

"I don't."

Loki's lips curled into a smirk. "You are a terrible liar."

Then he parted fully, his hands falling away from Tony and leaving him standing. His oncoming panic attack had been chased away. At least there was that.

Tony swallowed, eyes retreating back to the blue omens of blood and agony that were so innocently displayed in his workshop. The Tesseract lay next to a familiar old scepter, both of their sapphire souls pulsing along with the steady beat of his heart. Tony and Loki were standing close enough for their arms to touch.

"There are six stones." Loki said, breaking the trance. "Forged by the Celestials, legends say. They may well be older than the universe itself." He side stepped behind Tony, strong hands guiding him to sit. "The Tesseract is known as the Space Stone. The scepter's gem is the Mind Stone. But..."

One hand slipped forward off of Tony's shoulder, brushing over his chest until his fingertips felt the grooves of the arc reactor. Tony felt his breath hitch. It took all his strength to keep his eyes forward.

"You managed to thwart it without so much as lifting a finger." Loki continued, fingers fanning out over the arc reactor. What was with all the touching? "Alone, the stones are weakened. They can be stopped, contained. But when brought together, the entire universe would fold beneath the wielder's will. That is why Thanos seeks them."

Tony took a deep breath.

"Then... I guess we can't let him have them, can we?"

"Indeed." There was a brush of cool lips against the back of his ear. "So it is our responsibility to take them upon ourselves, is it not?"

Tony let out a barking laugh to cover up a trembling breath. He spun himself in his chair to face Loki, standing so he wasn't so outmatched - and he still was, damn alien heights. Loki loomed over him, but that didn't take from his resolve. He could see the hunger in his partner's eyes, an old echo of wanting power. Of wanting everything. Tony knew that look.

"This isn't about magic fucking rocks, Loki."

"Perhaps." Loki didn't touch him this time, though they were close. "But the stones will guide the tides of this war."

"And what, when it's over, you'll fuck off to some other realm with them? Or take over the world?"

Loki gave him a knowing look, green eyes glittering. Tony couldn't read him well enough to know if he had been right.

"Without them, Thor is lost and Jane Foster given no vengeance." he said smoothly, changing the course of the conversation. "Is it not your duty to avenge?"

Tony made a face. "I'm not an Avenger."

"Then see this through my eyes."

"What? Mine aren't good enough?"

Loki's lips pulled into a wicked grin.

"That's just it. Avenger or no, you work in the interest of what you see as the common good." His eyes flared with green. "See the universe as I do, and perhaps you will meet your true potential. This is not about your world, Stark. It never has been."

Tony's jaw set, but he declined to comment. Pick your fights, Obadiah had always said. He'd been a shitty guy in the end, but the advice still rang true.

He pulled away and interactive holograms flickered to life in the open space of his workshop, ready for his busy hands. He looked back to Loki for a long moment, before finally calling out to JARVIS.

"Team meeting." he declared. "Ten minutes. Pop some popcorn, J."


Loki stayed this time. That was a surprise.

The Tesseract and the scepter had been whisked away until it was time to reveal the big secret. It would be dramatic, no doubt; Loki had a flare for theatricality, and Tony could appreciate that. The team came down none the wiser to sit around the table, casting wary glances towards the sorcerer. Pepper came with them, tablet clutched in her nervous hands. Her eyes kept darting to the dark figure in the corner, so Tony sat next to her. She was also less likely to stab him when shit hit the fan.

Loki just leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting. He was the paragon of cool and collected but Tony could see he was just itching to watch the chaos unfold. Typical.

It went about as well as one could expect.

At the end of it, the table was abandoned and Tony was standing with a Mark XLVII gauntlet on his hand for the sake of his own goddamn sanity, Bruce's eyes were an inhuman green, Steve was too close to his face (he smelled like soap and something distinctly American), and Clint was standing on his chair and yelling profanities. Natasha and Pepper were the only quiet ones, stilling sitting and staring at the weapons of mass destruction that had appeared in a display of green fire and black sparks moments before. Pepper looked vaguely nauseous. Natasha showed mild interest, her poker face just as effective as Iron Man's face plate.

Loki was standing at the opposite head of the table, having silently shifted out of his dark corner. Tony expected him to be watching the brawl-to-be and cackling like a mad man, but he wasn't. Instead, his eyes were passing between the women, watching them with open interest.

"What say you, Agent Romanoff?"

Pepper nearly jumped out of her skin, but Widow kept an impressive calm, folding her fingers into a shelf underneath her chin. Loki's voice had stalled the argument when Steve and Clint whipped back around to look at the table. He completely ignored them, his undivided attention now on the assassin he had addressed. She was watching the steady beat of the lights in the Tesseract and the scepter, considering them. Clint was tenser than before.

"...Necessary." she finally answered. "Dangerous, but necessary."

Like Loki, Tony thought.

"Nat, are you-" Natasha held up her hand to stop Clint, pushing her chair out to stand.

"We've done this before. And how did we beat him?" She jabbed a finger towards Loki. "With that." She pointed at the Tesseract.

"Actually, I think it was my trick with the nuke that stopped them. And a raging green smashing machine." Tony piped up, putting a hand on Bruce's shoulder as the man began to recollect himself.

Steve made a frustrated sound.

"These are supposed to be in Asgard."

"As am I." Loki answered smoothly. "As is Stark. And yet here we all stand, Captain."

"This is our only chance, Rogers." Tony piped up. "They're coming back and they'll be prepared. But not for this."

Steve shook his head. "These are just some weapons, Tony. We-We need to turn them over to SHIELD." His tone was strong and final. "It's the right thing to do."

Screw the right thing. This was about Thor and the entire goddamn world.

From the corner of his eye, Tony saw Pepper stand straight up, her brow furrowed in thought. She might break her tablet with a grip like that, but Tony was more concerned with whatever the hell she was trying to decide to do. Tablets were replaceable, but women like Pepper Potts didn't come around every day. Focusing on her, he could see her mind working behind her deceptively pretty face, gathering all her confidence and analyzing the situation. She was about to do something risky; Tony knew that look. He usually loved that look.

In the space of a heartbeat, her expression moved from concern to her pristine, Stark-Industries-is-going-to-rock-your-world face. She was now the CEO that haunted Tony's nightmares and kind of turned him on. A bit. A lot.

"Mr. Odinson-"

"Laufeyson." Loki interrupted, his voice as smooth as oil in water. Tony didn't miss the edge to his tongue.

"Mr. Odinson ." Pepper ignored his correction, polite as one could be. Loki's eyebrow arched in displeasure, but he said nothing and she didn't notice the warning in his gaze. She was too busy pulling something up on her tablet. "Am I correct to assume that these two items are currently the property of Odin and the royal throne of Asgard?"

He tilted his head in curiosity, fractions of his annoyance fading.

"Yes." His answer came out very slow and very curious. He was catching on.

"Thor is the crown prince of Asgard, yes?" Tony's and Loki's minds were whirring at a million miles a second. Pepper continued on after Loki nodded. "For all purposes, he is considered the acting voice of Odin and Asgard while on Earth. In his absence, does that responsibility transfer to the next in line for the crown?"

Loki eyes gleamed bright. He took a step towards her. "In theory."

Steve was starting to catch on that something was up, but it was far too late. These two were already dancing, the trickster weaving his words through Pepper's in an impressive display of adaptability. They were miles ahead of everyone in the room and dragging Tony one step in their wake. He would be a liar if he said he didn't think it was the hottest thing he'd seen this week.

"And you, Mr. Odinson, are...?" Pepper continued.

"The next in line for the crown." His wicked smile was unrestrained.

"Then as a Prince of Asgard, Mr. Odinson, are you authorizing a weapons transfer of the Tesseract and this scepter to Stark Industries?" Her pointed gaze told him exactly what his answer should be.

Suddenly, Tony felt very uncomfortable with the look Loki was giving Pepper.

"I suppose I am." He took one more step forward, closing the distance between them. She didn't even flinch. "Yes, Ms. Potts, I am entrusting these weapons to the specialized care of Stark Industries. For the time being."

"You can't-" Steve's protest fell on deaf ears.

"It's been a pleasure doing business." Pepper extended her tablet towards Loki. In an instant, he was signing away things that were most definitely not his to give, but technically were.

Who was here to say that anything was wrong? Loki was still a Prince of Asgard, whether or not he actively claimed his family. It would take weeks for word to get back to Odin. There was a paper trail now and said that Stark Industries exclusively owned the Tesseract and the shiny glowing stick of destiny. Pepper Potts owned the scariest weapons of mass destruction, and by extension, so did Tony. SHIELD couldn't get their grubby little hands on them unless they wanted to drown in paperwork or try their best agents against the scariest clique of super-humans ever.

Bruce looked a little green. Sick-green, not smash-things-green, so no one was too concerned. Natasha was still watching the whispers of magic dancing in the Tesseract and Clint was glaring at the scepter like it might rear up and bite him. Steve Rogers was currently the mental equivalent of the eye of a storm. There would be a furious red, white, and blue hurricane barreling through the mansion soon enough. Hopefully it would stay contained to the work-out room.

"With business out of the way..." Pepper returned to her seat, and Loki did not just smile and wink at her. "...The question still remains."

Steve was grinding his teeth to the point of breaking one of them. Tony pushed by, going to peer over Pepper's shoulder and pretend to look at her pretty new contract. He gave her an appreciative squeeze of the shoulder instead. She remained buried in work.

Loki leveled a patient gaze over the audience before him. "Will you stand beside us, Avengers?"

Us, Tony mused. Tony Stark and Loki standing together against the universe.

Natasha stood up, a perfect vision of gracefulness. She turned to Loki, looked him dead in the eye, and nodded.

"You double-cross us and I'll kill you in your sleep."

Then she was leaving the workshop and sauntering up the stairs. Tony was convinced she would make good on that threat.

There was a moment of silence and then Clint cursed.

"I go where she goes."

He followed her out the door, mumbling curses as he left. There was definitely a 'Stark,' an 'Iron Man,' and a few more choice words in that, but he would stand with them. Black Widow and Hawkeye were a team before anything else.

Bruce crumpled down into his seat, holding his curly hair in his big hands. He was shaking his head. It took a moment before he straighten up right and cleaned his glasses.

"...If the Chitauri are coming, we'd be assembled anyway." he said, putting his spectacles back on his nose and looking directly at Loki. "But the other guy still doesn't like you."

"I expect nothing less."

Tony exhaled hard, falling into a chair next to Pepper. She glanced at him, sharing a look that said she felt just as insane as he did. He just looked at his gauntlet and started poking at the manual releases, mentally congratulating himself that the thing hadn't nearly broken his hand when he called it this time.

Steve, the last man standing in this session of declaring loyalties, was glaring at Tony and Loki. But his anger was fading and his resolve slipped away. He just looked tired.

"I'll fight." He shook his head. "God damn it Stark. I'll fight."

Tony nodded, looking up. He knew this wasn't easy for anyone.

"...Thanks, Steve."

"Don't mention it." He grit out with an impressive does of bitterness, storming out of the workshop with enough thunder to impress Thor.

Tony sighed, staring at the Tesseract. Silence spread and Loki's hand came around the scepter, lifting it from the table with uneasy familiarity. He looked at it in deep thought. Tony couldn't begin to imagine where that endless mind was wandering.

"Well." Pepper said, breaking the silence. "You owe me one hell of a vacation, Mr. Stark."

He smiled a little, reaching forward and picking up the Tesseract. Realizing he had never held it before, he began to toss it between his hands as if it was as insignificant as a Rubik's cube.

"You've got my cards, Ms. Potts. Bankrupt me. You deserve it."

"I recommend Greece." Loki offered out of the blue. "Santorini, to be specific."

Pepper blinked, looking up to him. Apparently at a loss for words, it took an expectant sidelong glance from the Asgardian to get her tongue working again.

"Thank you."

Ok, now that was just fucking weird.