Author's Note: Guys I'm so sorry! SO SORRY. I didn't plan for it to take me this long to update, I swear! Anyway, I will make it up to you somehow. Shall we?

P.S. This is chapter ten! Woo!

An Unexpected Guest, and an Even More Unexpected Turn of Events

or

How Loki Impressed All the Avengers with His Good Looks and Charm

…..

Saturday Noon

Awkward silence.

Very awkward silence.

Out of the eight people in the living room, none of them looked as uncomfortable as Loki, being the sole focus of seven pairs of eyes. And out of those seven, only a mere one of them wasn't looking at him in fear, confusion, hostility or disgust. Even though Thor had patiently explained (over their yelling and thinly-veiled threats) that Loki was a changed man (…god? Whatever), and that being back in Asgard had done him immeasurable amounts of good, the Avengers still harboured some… unfriendly feelings towards the trickster. Understandable, of course. But Loki noticed the way Tony anxiously rubbed at the cuffs on his wrists, and the way that Clint's hands unconsciously hovered close to his heart, as if he was afraid that Loki would produce the scepter from thin air and try to use it again.

"Brother," Thor said, turning towards the trickster sitting in the armchair. "Have you ever tried a "Pop Tart"?"

"Ah… No, I don't believe so."

Natasha stood up abruptly. "I have to pee." she muttered, leaving the room barely after getting the words out.

The room lapsed into silence again, and everyone seemed to be avoiding each other's eyes. Even Thor, just this once, appeared to notice the tension that was practically rolling off of his brother and friends in waves. He wasn't quite sure how to diffuse it, but he would figure it out eventually. He hoped.

"I'm gonna go read." Bruce announced, getting up and edging towards the door.

"Me too," Clint said, following him out. "I love… books."

Steve looked around the room, clearly uncomfortable now that his support was dwindling. "I, um…" he sneezed, and then winced when he realized that it was painfully obvious how fake it was. "I need a tissue."

Four people remained. The silence stretched onwards.

Tony was so restless that his knees hadn't stopped bouncing since they had all sat down. He finally reached critical levels of stress and cracked under the pressure, flying out of the room with a hasty "I have… stuff to do…"

Pepper; bless her, stayed behind on the couch. Of course, she was horribly uneasy with the whole situation. She liked Thor well enough, but she didn't really know him that well, and being alone in a room with him and his adopted brother who had basically tried to take over the planet Earth less than a year ago… well, that wouldn't have been her first choice. She almost let out a small whimper when Thor got up to make Loki a Poptart. As the god of thunder disappeared into the kitchen, Pepper shifted in her seat and rubbed her hands together. Loki sat stiffly (although he appeared a bit more relaxed now that no one was staring at him), looking very out of place in the slightly grungy living room, dressed in metal and leather and a flowing green cape. He had taken off his helmet a while ago, placing it gently on the coffee table. Now he saw Pepper eyeing it curiously, if not with a bit of apprehension.

Loki cleared his throat. "Would you like to see it?" he asked softly.

Even so, Pepper still jumped a bit at the sound of the trickster's voice. "Oh! Well I, um… I, well…" she appeared to be having some kind of internal argument. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice shaking a little less than before. "Sure, I mean if you wouldn't mind."

The trickster smiled, pleased that Pepper seemed to be calming down a bit. He always felt more at ease when others around him were. Loki leaned forward in his seat and pushed his helmet across the table to her. "Of course not."

"Thank you," Pepper replied quietly before carefully picking up the golden helmet and holding it between her palms. She spent a few minutes examining its glossy surface, tracing the detailed grooves on the exterior, and marveling at how light the helmet was. "It's very beautiful."

Loki nodded. "Thank you."

After replacing it on the coffee table, Pepper leaned forward and stretched her hand out to the god. "Pepper Potts," she said, giving him a small smile.

The trickster took the proffered hand without hesitation. "Loki," he said, giving her hand a shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Pepper."

It was a start.

…

Saturday Night

Dinner.

And Bruce was absolutely thrilled with Loki.

…..

Just before seven, the doctor had sauntered into the kitchen to get dinner started. Don't let it be said that he was actively avoiding Loki, but simply doing his best to remain inconspicuous throughout the remainder of the evening. So far he had been successful, but upon entering the kitchen Bruce was a little startled to find that the trickster was seated at the table with Pepper, drinking tea and completely at ease.

"Hi…" Bruce greeted, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling ridiculous.

"Doctor Banner," Loki said, raising his hand in a wave. "Pepper tells me that you have quite a talent for the culinary arts."

"Ohh… well, ah. Thanks." Bruce shuffled to the other end of the kitchen and stuck his head in the refrigerator under the pretense of deciding what to make for dinner. Really, he was just sticking his head in the refrigerator to hide. Eventually though, he grudgingly had to retreat back into the kitchen, bringing with him the ingredients for Shepard's pie.

He only just realized that Pepper was speaking to Loki behind him. "Go on," she encouraged softly. "Just ask. It's a nice thought and I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"Very well," came the reply, then the clearing of someone's throat. "Excuse me, Doctor Banner? I was wondering if you'd like some help preparing supper."

Bruce jerked around to face the trickster. His expression was nothing but earnest, and damn if it didn't soften Bruce up just a little. "Uh, sure. Why not?"

And so the two men proceeded to make dinner. Loki was charged with the mashed potato side of things, while Bruce took care of the filling. All in all, the preparation went smoothly (even counting the would-be incident of Bruce nearly cutting off a finger because he was too busy staring and being baffled by how at ease Loki seemed in the kitchen), and soon there were four Shepard's pies in the oven (because really, Steve and Thor could probably eat one each, and Clint would damn well try). Loki had long-since shed some of his metal and leather layers, and was now left in a simple green tunic and his black pants and boots. This made him look much less imposing, in Bruce's opinion, and honestly it even made the trickster look approachable. The same thing could be said for Thor, who looked far more welcoming in a big sweater and jeans than he did in a cape and leather pants.

Then again, did anyone really look good in leather pants?

That was beside the point, however. Bruce found that after he relaxed a little, he began to enjoy himself more. Cooking was always a treasured pastime, and when he had someone else in the kitchen that seemed to get pleasure from it (whether it was Pepper or Steve or Natasha), he couldn't help but throw himself into it fully. And Loki certainly seemed to know what he was doing. They would give each other tips about what spices would be good, tell the other if something was missing in the flavour, and when there was a lull in activity, they would talk about what they liked to cook. Needless to say, dinner went well. As the old saying goes; the way to man's heart is through his stomach, and it remained true for Steve, who was won over by his third helping. He had a weakness for good food.

….

Three down, three to go.

….

Sunday Morning

Surprisingly, it was Tony who was the next to befriend the trickster.

Loki had never much been one for childish pastimes, but occasionally he indulged. This happened to be one of those occasions, so while everyone else slept on in the early hours of the morning, he crept outside. The trickster let his thoughts wander as he trudged through the thigh-deep snow, wondering how he would show the rest of the Avengers that he had changed. After he and Thor had returned to Asgard, Loki had stood before Odin on trial. His adoptive father had declared in a booming voice that the trickster was to serve a sentence of one thousand years, and he was thrown into the fortress-like Asgardian prison immediately. Loki, resigned to serving his tedious sentence, was prepared to do what he needed to in order to redeem himself to his home world. After all, Clint Barton hadn't been the first one to test the powers of the sceptre. Indeed, when Loki had fallen off of the Bifrost, he had tumbled through an endless and confusing maelstrom of both time and space, eventually landing in an ungraceful heap on a foreign world, feeling half-dead. A figure had approached him, and through blurry eyes, the trickster could only watch as his free will was taken away right from under his nose. The events following that were just pictures seen from a distance that he had no control over, with jumbles of light and sound mixed in. No one on Asgard knew this of course, so Loki figured that it was best to serve in silence- proving that he hadn't been trying to start an inter-dimensional war would probably take time, without it all sounding like lies.

So truly, it was a shock to see anyone approaching his cell only three days after his trial, and an even bigger one to see that it was Sif, who had never been as close with him as she had Thor. She edged towards the bars slowly, keeping her eyes trained on Loki as he did the same. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, the lady warrior allowed herself a small smile which the trickster returned readily. A friendly face was always welcome in his situation.

"Thor came to me after your trial," she said, placing her hands on the lock that held the cell closed. "He said that Odin forbade him from going to speak with you, and asked me to come in his stead. Thor believes that your sentence is unjust, and that what happened on Midgard was not your own doing."

Loki stared in surprise. How could Thor possibly have guessed that he hadn't been in control of his actions? "What do you mean, Sif?"

She looked at him earnestly. "We figured it out, Loki. Thor realized that when he looked into your eyes during the battle, he did not see his brother, but merely someone that looked like you, but was altered on the inside. You were not choosing to act the way you did, and the responsibility of what took place does not belong to you."

"Sif…" Loki's shoulders sagged in relief. By forming their own correct conclusions, Sif and Thor could tell the trickster's story without it coming off as lies.

She smiled again, brighter this time. "I never believed that you could be capable of such destruction."

"It is a relief to have both you and Thor know the truth. But what is to happen now? Will Odin be willing to listen to anything I have to say?"

Footsteps echoed from a connecting hallway, drawing closer. "Well, Loki. Thor and I both have spoken to the Allfather…" Sif began, tapping one of her feet in an excited manner. "We told him our theories, and he has agreed to speak to you! Provided that you confirm the story, there is a chance that he may lift your sentence."

The incoming footsteps grew louder, and then Thor, led by Odin himself, rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of Loki's cell, next to Sif. For the following hour, the trickster told his story, and anything he could remember from Midgard. The Allfather listened with an impassive face, but with his magic still intact, Loki could sense that he was softening. Eventually, once he had finished his tale, Odin waved his mighty hand, and the door of his cell swung open. Loki was released on the condition that he spend at least four months on Asgard, unaccompanied so long as he did not leave her borders. Following that, Thor would escort him on any trips away from Asgard for two months until Loki was allowed to go where he pleased.

This was how the trickster found himself on Earth after being holed up on Asgard for so long. Without realizing it, Loki had built up a rather impressive snow fortress while he had been reminiscing, with towering walls of gleaming white, and strategically-placed windows for firing snowy ammunition. Being of Jotun blood, he barely felt the cold and had spent at least two hours outside the cabin, not even noticing the passage of time.

"You know," a grudging voice suddenly said from a little ways to his left. "The north wall needs more support from the inner corner."

"Is that so?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow without turning around.

"Yeah. And while you're at it, you should make the windows deeper."

Tony trudged slowly into view, and began patting snow onto the walls of the fortress with gloved hands. The billionaire worked with a scowl on his face, but Loki couldn't help but share a private grin with himself- it had seemed like Anthony Stark would rather paint the Iron Man suit purple than even think about coming within five feet of the trickster, yet here they were.

After fifteen minutes of quiet work, Tony broke the peaceful silence. "I still kind of hate you, you know."

Loki shrugged. "I can work with that."

"Noted."

Across the snowy field, the door of the cabin opened, revealing Steve, Bruce, Pepper and Clint, all dressed in their winter gear. As the four of them trudged towards Loki and Tony, Clint would occasionally stoop down to form snowballs, and continued to pass them out to the others until they each had an armload of ammo.

Loki was the first to notice the incoming threat. "What is this?" he hissed at Tony, watching as the group crossed the invisible 100-foot line.

Tony glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes flew wide. "Shit! Why didn't you warn me sooner?"

"I only just noticed-"

The trickster was abruptly cut off as the billionaire forcefully dragged him into the fort, then dropped to the ground, hurriedly scooping up snow and pressing it into spherical shapes.

"Shit shit shit…" Tony muttered to himself. "We're going to get decimated. What are you- Why aren't you making snowballs?!"

Loki rolled his eyes, and without so much as a blink, an enormous mound of perfect snowballs appeared in the fort behind them. Tony's jaw dropped slightly, and the snowball that he was currently making fell out of his hand with a sad flump. The trickster crossed his arms and smiled smugly- rendering Tony Stark speechless was not common occurrence, as far as he knew. "But I have made snowballs, Anthony."

"… They should call you Loki of Sassgard. Anyway, how do you propose that the two of us win a snowball fight against the four of them?"

With a snap of his fingers, the trickster summoned Thor to this Midgardian version of a battlefield. When the god of thunder appeared next to them, Tony gave a start, but begrudgingly allowed that having him there would put some of the favour on their side.

"Brother!" Thor greeted. "Tony, what evil are we battling this fine day?"

"Friends with snowballs," the billionaire answered, pointing an accusing finger out the fortress window. "Where's Natasha? We need her on our team!"

"Lady Natasha is asleep on the couch. I thought it unwise to wake her."

Tony nodded vigorously. "Good point."

With another peek out the window, Loki noted that Steve, Bruce, Clint and Pepper had formed their own crude wall of snow to hide behind, a mere fifteen feet away from his own fort. It looked as if both sides were well-prepared to fight a long and vicious battle. Suddenly, a fierce cry arose from the other side of that wall, and snowball after snowball began to rain down from the sky near the opposite fortress.

To summarize; it was all-out war from that point on.

…

Clint had a hard time holding a grudge, and if he was honest, Loki had pretty much won him over when the guy managed to take Steve Rogers down with a snowball to the face. The assassin had defected over to the other side after that, and taken Loki's place when he bowed out of the competition gracefully, claiming that three-on-three was more than fair. The snowball fight continued behind him as the trickster walked back towards the cabin. As he grew closer to the squat building, he noticed that Natasha was standing nearby, watching the battle with a smile that slipped away when Loki continued to approach her, instead of heading towards the door. She eyed him warily, recalling the amount of guns she had hidden on her person at that moment. Observing her aggressive stance, the trickster removed his hands from his pockets to show that they were empty, and tried to make himself as non-threatening as possible. Even he could admit that the infamous Black Widow was a formidable woman, and could be downright scary when she wanted to. Very much like Frigga, Loki thought.

"Lady Natasha," he raised a hand in greeting. "How are you today?"

She gave him a cold glare. "Cut the crap, Loki. Why are you here?"

The trickster sighed and rubbed his neck, feeling uncomfortable under her glower. "May I tell you a story?"

She didn't answer, so he took it as a 'yes ' to continue. Before speaking, Loki waved his hand and made a beautiful golden bench appear in the snow before them. He sat, and invited her to do the same, but the deadly assassin declined with a sharp shake of her head, so he began his tale. He started from the very beginning; his childhood on Asgard, feeling inferior to Thor, and always being alone with nothing but his magic. As the story progressed, Natasha's face softened little by little, and eventually she joined him on the bench to listen with rapt attention. Loki told her of the events that had brought him to Earth for the first time, and the ones that led him there a second time. If you asked him later, he wouldn't be able to tell you why he spilled the whole tale to a Midgardian woman he barely knew, but somehow he felt that she was a kindred spirit. It was also the first time anyone had heard his story from beginning to end, without any lies obscuring the truth.

It felt good.

…

Sunday Night

The arrival of dinnertime found the Avengers and guest seated around the fire in the living room, warming up and drying off the evidence of their day in the snow. Bruce and Steve were seated next to each other in separate armchairs, while Pepper and Tony sat on the loveseat to their left. Natasha and Clint were curled up at one end of the hideous sofa, and Thor sat on their other side, sandwiched between them and Loki. Natasha may not have warmed up to the trickster completely, but they had reached an understanding that afternoon and it was good enough for now. Quiet conversations were the background noise to the pleasant atmosphere that was filling the room, and the general opinion was that their weekend winter vacation had been pretty successful. With a yawn, Tony stretched his feet out to the coffee table and sunk further down into the couch beside Pepper. Loki squinted at the man's toes in confusion, curious as to why they looked so odd.

"Anthony, why are your toenails bright red?"

…

Author's Note: Okay, there you have it! WOW that chapter really got away from me! I think this is the longest EVER like seriously. Anyway, I will apologize once more for taking such a bloody long time to update this, and tell you that I have a lot of new ideas for chapters. (Fingers crossed I actually get them done). I'll see you all in chapter eleven, I guess :)

P.S. Loki's not gonna be a regular character from now on, but he'll make the occasional (and hilarious) appearance.