a/n: Hello my loves! I have actually had most of this chapter planned out (in my head as well as in a sort of outline) for a long time. So I was pretty stoked to finally be able to write it all out. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Plus, I was super inspired during this one – Disney+ & Tom Hiddleston have released amazing details about the upcoming Loki series, for which I am so excited that I don't even have words. On top of that, we've learned more about Doctor Strange 2 and how Wanda is going to be a major player in it. Ah I am so happy. Whew! Okay, onward people – We gettin' into the thick of it now! It's gon' get REAL from here on out. I look forward to your comments!

Ooh, also, to help set the mood: During the car scene in this chapter, the radio is playing 90s alternative music. The songs I had in mind, & recommend listening to while reading, are "Only Happy When it Rains" by Garbage, followed by "Feel Good, Inc." by Gorillaz.

Chapter 5: Nice Flerken

When Morgan woke up on the day of the Avengers reunion, her mind was already racing. She jumped out of bed and rushed through her morning routine. After brushing her teeth and throwing on a pair of jeans and an old, ratty Stark Industries t-shirt, she left her room and headed into the main part of the apartment.

"Morning!" Pepper called from the stove where she was frying a couple eggs.

"Hi, Mom," Morgan replied cheerfully. She snagged a slice of toast off the counter and stuffed it in her mouth. A few hurried bites and she had pretty much downed the bread. Then, she turned and started toward the front door. "Bye, Mom," she said, slightly muffled from the mouthful of her last bites of toast.

"Whoa, hang on a second!" Pepper walked around the kitchen island and grabbed Morgan by the shoulders. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" she asked, wiping toothpaste off her daughter's lip.

Morgan busied herself with dusting bread crumbs off her shirt. "Oh, you know," she stated with a shrug. "Places to go, people to see. . ."

Pepper leaned back, hands on her hips and a knowing look on her face. "Uh-huh."

"What?!" Morgan asked, a bit too defensively.

Her mother narrowed her eyes. "What are you up to?"

Morgan let out an exaggerated groan. "Nothing!"

"Then why are you running around here like you're trying to win a race against the Quinjet?"

Morgan chewed the inside of her cheek and looked around the room, avoiding eye contact with her mom. "No reason," she murmured.

Pepper stared her down for a moment longer before sighing. She put her hand under Morgan's chin, forcing the girl to look at her. "Be good," she said firmly.

Morgan's eyes lit up and she nodded fervently. Then, she darted for the door, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. With her hand on the door-knob she paused, looking back to her mom, who was watching her expectantly.

"How much today?" Pepper asked.

Morgan looked up, tapping her chin as though deep in thought. Then she looked back to her mom. "Hmm. Right around. . . fifteen-hundred."

Pepper gasped. "Only 1500? Yesterday you loved me 2000!"

"And if you had cut the crust off the toast, it would have been 2000 today," Morgan told her, very matter-of-factly. Then, seeming to rethink things, she added, "But since your interrogation was light, I guess I could bump it up to, like, 1850?"

"Ugh, you're impossible. Get out of my sight!" Pepper teased, throwing her hands up. They both laughed as Pepper returned to the eggs on the stove and Morgan hurried out the door.

Once in the hallway, Morgan turned and started running toward the stairs.

Bruce, who had just stepped out of his door, had to jump backward to avoid being mowed down. "Whoa!" the man shouted with a laugh.

"Sorry, Uncle Bruce!" Morgan yelled behind her as she entered the stairwell.

The girl bounded up the stairs, two at a time. She rounded the corner and skidded to a halt in front of the Guardians' hostel. Panting and heart hammering in her throat, Morgan raised her fist to knock on the door. Just as her hand was about to connect with the wood, the door opened, throwing her off balance and making her tip forward.

"Morgan!" a familiar voice said, catching the girl and steadying her.

She glanced up, still panting. In stilted phrases, between breaths, she said: "Hi. Good morn—whew. Morning, Uncle Quill."

Peter Quill leaned against the doorframe and smirked. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked in a sing-song voice.

Morgan held up a finger, putting the conversation on pause. She took a slow, deep breath, collecting herself. Then, she tried again. "Is Rocket here?"

Quill opened his mouth, then closed it, furrowing his brows in thought. "I don't think I've seen him yet this morning." Then, he threw his head back and hollered into the hostel: "Hey, anyone seen the furball?!" When nobody answered, he turned around. "Hey!" There was still nothing, so he jerked his head, motioning for Morgan to come in. She smiled and hopped over the threshold into the living space.

Quill stepped around the girl and led her further inside. "Guys. C'mon." He threw his arms out to the side. "Isn't anyone listening to me?"

"No," Nebula answered monotonously from where she was laying on the couch.

Drax straightened up from where he had been hunched over digging through the refrigerator. He eyed Nebula quizzically. "If you answered him, doesn't that mean you're listening?"

Mantis, who was also in the kitchen, pulled herself up to sit on the counter and giggled. "Yeah," she pitched in. "You can't answer someone if you don't hear them!" She and Drax looked at each other and burst into a fit of laughter.

Nebula sat up and leaned forward on the couch, elbows on her knees. She gave the pair a side-eye. "Oh, look," she droned in monotone. "You have bested me again with your wit."

Drax and Mantis let their laughter subside and Drax nodded heartily before settling into a proud stance. "We are no match for you, Nebula."

Morgan frowned. "Wait, don't you mean—"

Quill put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head softly. "Just – yeah, no. Let it go."

With a sigh, Nebula stood up. She strode forward and stopped in front of Morgan. "You want the flea-bag? He's in his room." She jammed her thumb to point down the hall.

Morgan smiled in thanks and skipped down the small hallway to Rocket's room. She rapped her knuckles on the door.

"State your business!" called the gruff voice from inside the room.

"It's Morgan. I have a proposition for you," she told him.

There was a moment of silence. Then, the door swung open and Morgan looked down. Rocket was already walking away from the door, retreating back into the room. So she followed, assuming that's what the raccoon wanted. She pushed the door shut behind her, for privacy.

Rocket hopped up onto the bed. He looked at Morgan very seriously for a minute, before relaxing and sitting back on his haunches. "So?" he asked.

"Right." Morgan plopped onto the edge of the bed – which was ridiculously large for such a small creature. "You've been collecting magic and storing it in your energy capsules, yeah?"

Rocket's whiskers twitched. "What if I have?"

"I wanna make a trade for it."

After a brief second, Rocket laughed. He dropped down to sit on the edge of the mattress and slapped his knee as he howled with laughter. "That's a good one, kiddo," he managed to get out, wiping his eyes.

"Rocket, I'm being serious!" Morgan cried, jumping to her feet.

She glowered down at the pint-sized Avenger until he finally looked at her and, upon seeing her expression, he immediately fell silent and sat up at attention.

"Well, shit. You really do mean it, don't you?"

Morgan folded her arms over her chest and continued staring, wordlessly. Rocket held his paws up, yielding. He even shuddered – which was probably exaggerated to make a point, but Morgan appreciated the gesture and softened her glare.

"Okay, Starkling," Rocket said decidedly. He sat back, bringing his foot up to scratch behind his ear. Then, he stood on the bed again. "I'll hear your proposal."

Morgan took a deep breath. "So, I need some of Wanda's power. Like, two capsules full maybe?"

Rocket sniffed, then picked at his teeth with a claw. "And if I were to confirm that I had such a thing, tell me: Why would I give it to you?" He pointed at the girl, narrowing his eyes briefly before letting his arms fall back to his sides.

"You wouldn't be giving me anything. I told you, it'd be a trade," Morgan reiterated.

Rocket rubbed his chin thoughtfully and nodded. "That's classy." He jumped down from the bed and stepped forward, looking up at Morgan. "It'd have to be equal or greater value. What have you got that's worth two—" he held up two clawed digits for emphasis—"capsules of Maximoff's power?"

Morgan grinned at him, already prepared with her bargaining chip. "How about two capsules of Arc reactor energy?"

The raccoon considered the offer. Then shook his head. Morgan was about to protest, when Rocket said: "Three capsules of arc reactor energy."

They stared at each other for a minute before Morgan finally gave in. "Deal," she said, stretching her hand out. Rocket grabbed her fingers with his paw and they shook.

Then, he scurried across the room to a cupboard. "Get over here," he ordered. Morgan did as she was told, and saw Rocket pulling out three of his homemade batteries. He handed the empty capsules to Morgan one at a time, so that she could load them into her backpack.

Once she had all three, she zipped up the pack and put it back over her shoulders.

Rocket rested his paws at his hips. "You get your power when I get mine. Capisce?"

Morgan frowned slightly, but nodded. She turned to leave but stopped and looked back at her co-conspirator. "You won't. . . tell anyone about this, right?"

Rocket looked genuinely offended, shaking his head. He gave another toothy grin, which looked more like a snarl. "I'm no amateur, kid. Snitches get stitches." He placed a paw over his heart and puffed out his chest. "It's our little secret." Then the raccoon waved his paws, shooing the human girl. "Now get the hell outta here."

Morgan smiled at him and hurried away, shutting his door behind her and walking triumphantly out of the hostel, with quick goodbyes to the other Guardians. Once back in the hallway, she made a beeline for the electrical room, hoping that everyone would be too busy with everything else to notice her siphoning off a few capsules of power from one of the generators.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

At an unmemorable rest stop off the side of a random highway, Nick Fury stood outside, waiting. He had picked the location specifically because it was relatively nondescript. The day was especially sunny, so he had found a shade-tree to wait under. A black duffle bag sat on the ground at his feet. In spite of the warm summer temperatures, Fury wore his usual black pants, shirt, and long overcoat. He slid his sleeve up to check his watch. It read 8:02 am. He dropped his arm to his side with a heavy sigh.

"Late," he mumbled.

Then, as if on cue, he heard the tell-tale sound of an engine whining in the distance. The car was blurry on the horizon at first, but gradually came into focus, the roar of the engine increasing as it approached. It rolled into the parking lot of the rest-stop, leaving faint skid-marks on the pavement as it came to a sudden stop in front of Fury. He could hear the bass pounding from outside the red and black car. It had two doors, and was sporty, probably of the luxury-sports variety. Certainly expensive and flashy – the exact opposite of Fury's usual motif.

The window rolled down on the passenger's door. Fury leaned down to look inside. He was met with the bright smile of Carol Danvers, leaning across the seat with her sunglasses tilted down on her nose.

"Hey. Need a ride?" she asked with a wink.

Fury grunted softly and picked up his duffle bag. Carol popped the trunk so he could throw the bag in. He slammed it shut and then climbed in the passenger's seat, buckling his seatbelt before looking over at the driver with incredulity.

"What in the actual hell?" Fury asked, dipping his head to reference their mode of transportation.

Carol scoffed and lovingly ran her hands along the dashboard. "This baby is a top of the line Acura NSX. You know me – higher, further, faster." She had to speak loudly over the radio, which was blaring a 90s alt-pop song that Fury just knew would get stuck in his head. Damn Carol.

Fury reached forward and turned the knob to lower the volume of the radio. He shook his head. "So, you're trying to draw attention to yourself?"

Carol pushed her sunglasses into their proper place. "The best way to blend in is by standing out." Then, Carol leaned over and quietly added, "Nobody expects it."

She sat up straight and gripped the steering wheel, laughing. Without another word, she threw the clutch and sped off. Once they were back on the highway, Carol adjusted her rearview mirror with a sly smile on her face.

"Oh no. I know that look." Fury groaned, leaning back in his seat. He ran his hands over his face. "What?" he asked, hesitantly.

"I have a surprise," Carol replied, confirming Fury's worry. She glanced over at him and jerked her head toward the backseat. "Look back there."

With an uneasy feeling, Fury rotated and looked in the back. He found himself incapable of holding back a yelp. Quickly, he righted himself in his seat and stared straight ahead. Daring one more look at the kennel in the backseat, he swore under his breath before looking at Carol.

"Please," he growled through gritted teeth. "Please, tell me that is a normal, ordinary Earth cat."

Carol took an exit off the interstate and casually shrugged. "Doesn't he look like a normal, ordinary Earth cat?"

Fury pointed at her. "That's not funny."

Stopping at a red-light and flicking her blinker on, Carol chuckled softly. "It's kinda funny."

"Hell to the no, Danvers." Fury pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tell me that you do not have a motherfuckin' Flerken in your backseat right now."

"Look at the kennel. It says 'live cat,' does it not?" Carol answered, in a very non-answering kind of way. "His name's Chewie," she chirped. "Isn't he cute?"

Peeking back at the kennel, Chewie mewled softly. Fury scoffed and looked away. "No," he told Carol.

She clicked her tongue and peeked in the backseat. "Don't listen to him, Chewie. He's just grumpy."

Fury pointed at Carol. "I wanna hear, in no uncertain terms, that I am not in a car with a Flerken."

Carol let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't worry. Look at him. He's a cat."

"That is not convincing," Fury stated. He growled and muttered a few choice words under his breath. In response, the man shifted to put distance between himself and the creature in the kennel, leaning hard against the passenger door. "Just, keep that thing away from me."

Carol chuckled but didn't have time to respond before Fury's phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and answered with a gruff, "What?" – eliciting more laughter from Carol.

"Morning, Director," Sam Wilson said on the other line.

"Wilson," Fury replied. He turned Carol's radio all the way down. He grit his teeth. "What did you fuck up?"

Sam was quiet for a minute. "Uh, sor—sorry, what?"

Fury sighed deeply. "You know I'll be there in a few hours. Yet, here you are, calling me. Obviously, something has gone wrong and now you have no choice but to tell me about it."

There was a defeated sigh from Wilson. "So, we had an unexpected guest yesterday." A deep breath. "Loki is alive, Sir."

Fury didn't say anything. He held his breath. He knew that as bad as that news sounded, Wilson must be calling about something even worse.

"He didn't seem like a threat, and we were keeping him in the Compound. At least until Thor got here. And you, of course."

"Wilson, get to the point," Fury hissed.

"Sorry," Sam said. "Um, so, yeah. We were all good. Loki was here. I put Strange on security detail. But—"

"But what?"

"Loki's gone, Sir."

Fury scoffed. "The fuck you mean 'gone,' Wilson? What happened to Strange?"

Wilson's reply was heavy with guilt. "We, uh, we can't get ahold of him."

"You can't—" Fury let out a dark laugh. "Let me get this straight: You had one of the most powerful beings in the universe right under your noses – surrounded by how many of Earth's supposed 'greatest defenders' and you let him get away. Then, as if that wasn't a big enough shit-storm, you've also lost the only person who would be powerful enough to stop the aforementioned being."

Fury laughed scornfully, lowering the phone and tapping it to his chin briefly. When he brought it back up to his ear, he continued: "That about sum everything up?"

Sam cleared his throat. "Technically, yes. But—"

"'Technically,' my ass, Wilson. I will be there as soon as I can. Don't make things worse before I get there," Fury commanded. He hung up and dropped the phone to his lap and looked straight ahead.

They had exited the freeway and were sitting at a four-way stop, preparing to head down the state highway that would take them to the small town and then the countryside where the Avengers Compound was tucked away. Carol took off her sunglasses and glanced over to her passenger, looking at him expectantly.

"Drive," Fury ordered.

"You got it, Boss." Carol gave a quick, partial salute and flicked her sunglasses back on her face. The Captain made the necessary turn and slammed her foot down on the gas pedal. For her own sanity, Carol turned the radio back up, letting a 90s rap song reverberate through the tension in the car.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

Stephen woke up with the worst headache of his life. So, why did he feel better – happier – than he could remember feeling in a long time?

There was a soft rustle from next to him in the bed.

Oh. Right.

Stephen sat up and leaned back against his headboard, palming his tired eyes. When he looked down, he smiled. And he knew it was probably a giant, stupid-looking grin, so he covered his mouth with his hand. His other hand hovered over the back of the body in bed with him.

Loki was lying on his stomach, with the sheet wrapped around his waist. Stephen ghosted his fingers across the creamy, ivory skin. The gesture caused Loki to stir and Stephen quickly pulled his hand away, bundling his hands in the comforter.

"Mm," Loki hummed softly. He rolled over with a contented sigh but froze instantly when his head landed on Stephen's thigh. He looked confused at first, then almost concerned, and then confused again.

"Hi," Stephen said softly, breaking the silence.

Loki scooted away and sat up in the middle of the bed. "Morning," he said slowly. He licked his lips nervously as his eyes darted around Stephen's bedroom – wait, when had they made it up there? – in curiosity. He bunched the sheet up around his waist.

Stephen forced his gaze away from the sharp curves of the god's hips and his toned stomach. An odd feeling of pride blossomed in his chest when he saw the blood-bruises, caused by his kisses, along Loki's defined collarbone. Looking at the perfectly angular face, Stephen smiled. "Your hair's curly," he blurted. Loki's oceanic eyes widened and he threw a hand up. Wisps of green seiðr danced at his fingertips, ready to straighten out the dark locks. "No," Stephen said, reaching a hand out to still Loki's wrist. "You should leave it. It's nice."

Loki cleared his throat but didn't protest. He looked down at where Stephen's hand was still around his wrist. Looking at the marred skin of his own tanned hands compared to the flawlessness of Loki's alabaster wrist, Stephen felt profoundly bare. He pulled his hand away, burying it in the blanket again.

Silently, Loki leaned forward. He moved the comforter slightly, just enough to reveal Stephen's hands but not to cause an indecent amount of exposure. Then, with an unexpected gentleness, Loki grasped both of those scarred hands. A flash of memory suddenly hit Stephen – standing in the library the night before with Loki's lips on his hands, following the lines of each scar.

"You shouldn't hide these," Loki whispered. He positioned Stephen's hands so one was resting on each knee and stroked them tenderly. As he did, Stephen felt a cooling sensation and the chronic soreness and stiffness abated. Loki laid his hands flat on the Sorcerer's and looked him in the eye. "These allowed you to become who you are."

Something caught in Stephen's throat. He felt himself leaning forward but stopped, pulling a hand from Loki's knee (regretfully), to hold his head with a soft groan.

"Headache?"

"Yeah," Stephen replied. "How did you. . . ?" Stephen's voice trailed off distractedly. Loki still had his legs crossed in a sitting position, but was laying on his back in some weird kind of stretch.

"That'd be the hangover," Loki answered when he sat back up, stretching out his arms. He rolled his shoulders until he heard a satisfying crack and then slithered back down to lay on his side on the mattress.

"Hangover?" Stephen muttered. "I didn't think I drank that much?"

Loki raised up onto an elbow and propped his head on his hand. The sheet still covered his waist but one leg had slid out and he subtly crooked it up between Stephen's legs. He let out a soft, throaty laugh that was entirely too appealing. "It had less to do with your weak Midgardian alcohol and more to do with the power of our intermingled magic."

Testing the waters, Stephen slid down so he was lying on his back, then turned on his side to face the Trickster – effectively trapping Loki's long leg between both of his own. Loki didn't move away. So Stephen propped himself up on his elbows, giving an inquisitive look to his companion. "Are you saying I'm drunk on magic?"

Loki nodded. "Or, at least, you were. Now you're coming down from it."

"How does that even work?"

Loki suddenly reached forward and placed a hand on the side of Stephen's face. He felt that cooling sensation again and then his headache was almost entirely gone.

"Better?" Loki asked. Stephen only nodded. Loki sighed as he pulled his hand away, splaying it out on the mattress. "Magic can be a potent intoxicant, especially if it's a highly concentrated dose – which, by the way, it was." Loki smiled and it was a genuine smile that went all the way up to his eyes. "It would seem that your magic really likes my seiðr."

Stephen thought for a moment. Absent-mindedly, he put his hand on the bed next to Loki's, tracing patterns in the mattress and allowing their fingertips to brush now and then. "So, were you drunk on magic, too?" he asked, somewhat teasingly.

"Yes," Loki answered simply. "But I'm not human, so I'm affected differently. Similar to alcohol, magical intoxication can have a dulling effect – mostly on inhibitions."

"Is that why I sounded like a blathering idiot last night?" Stephen asked. He didn't wait for an answer. "Because, I swear, I'm usually far more eloquent. And not, you know, a rambling fool."

Loki leaned forward slightly, smirking. "I don't know. Your rambling was kind of cute."

Stephen opened his mouth, then closed it. "I. . . don't know how to respond to that."

"Perhaps I can make a suggestion?" Loki offered. He took Stephen by surprise when he closed the distance between them with a soft kiss.

They pulled apart just barely, their noses touching. "That works," Stephen said breathlessly. He kissed Loki again, harder this time. Lips still pressed to Loki's, Stephen asked, "Are you still drunk?"

The Trickster pulled away, laying back on the pillow. "Hmm. I think I might be."

Stephen's diverted his eyes to the mattress, feeling his heart drop. Which was stupid. Right?

He felt Loki's hand under his chin, making him look back up. Those icy eyes were more open and honest than Stephen had ever seen them, or had ever expected to see them. Breathtakingly, so, actually. "I said the magic lowers your inhibitions, Strange," Loki reiterated. "It doesn't make you do anything you don't want to do."

They were both silent as the words settled between them. The Sorcerer Supreme wondered if Loki had seen the dejected look on his face and realized he probably should have been concerned that he had been so easy to read. But instead, Stephen only felt happy about the words Loki had said, and what they meant. So he allowed that stupid smile back on his face and didn't bother covering it up. "What you're really saying is that you wanted to jump my bones."

Loki mock-gasped and rolled over on his back, laughing as he looked up at that ceiling. "You moved in on me, Doctor."

In a burst of confidence – or stupidity – Stephen moved so he was on top of Loki, straddling his hips. "You left me no choice, Your Highness," he said, leaning down to kiss the god's jaw.

"Whatever do you mean?" Loki asked innocently.

Stephen pulled away with a sharp inhale. "Oh, please. The innuendos, the stretching – the fucking leather pants?" He scoffed fondly. "You knew exactly what you were doing."

Loki grinned, wrapping his arms around Stephen's neck and pulling him down toward him. "And if I did?"

Stephen growled in the back of his throat, crashing their lips together. Loki tilted his head back to offer Stephen better access to his neck. The Sorcerer obliged, hungrily kissing and nipping down Loki's throat.

Receiving a playful bite to his earlobe, the god sighed. "Mm. Stephen."

The doctor pulled away, looking down at the god. "What?" Loki asked, panting and his face slightly flushed.

"I just don't think you've ever actually used my first name before." Stephen gave a crooked smile, liking the way his name sounded on that silver tongue.

Loki smirked in his typical manner. "Pretty sure I used it a few times last night." Then he lifted up, licked the tip of Stephen's nose, and shoved him off of him, quickly rolling to the other side of the mattress.

Stephen found himself on his back, not completely sure of what had just happened. He furrowed his brows and sat up, glancing over to where Loki was now standing beside the bed, draping the sheet around him like a toga.

"You're like a cat."

"Pardon?" Loki asked, gathering his hair into a pile on top of his head. When he let it fall, it was perfectly straight, but still hanging somewhat loose.

Stephen swung his legs over his own side of the bed. "Cuddly when you want to be, then when you're done, it's over." He chuckled softly to make sure Loki knew his tone was light. There was no response and he turned, wondering if he'd offended the god. He was a little shocked to find that Loki was missing, but he was even more stunned to see a black cat with piercing emerald eyes sitting on the bed and staring at him.

". . . Loki?" Stephen asked hesitantly. The cat marched forward, rubbing along the doctor's arm and flicking him in the face with its tail. Cautiously, Stephen ran a hand along the cat's spine. It stepped onto his lap, making Stephen gasp lightly when its nails pierced his thigh. "Okay, point taken."

He blinked and fell backward on the bed with an 'oof.' Loki was lying on top of him, back in his Æsir form, with a Cheshire grin plastered on his handsome face.

"Good thing I'm a cat person," Stephen teased. Then, he and Loki both broke out laughing. Stephen wrapped his arms around Loki and pulled him tight to his chest. Loki buried his face in the Sorcerer's neck, shaking with laughter. After a moment, when they finally pulled themselves together, Loki lifted himself up, looking very seriously at the doctor.

"You will tell no one that just happened. If you do, I'll deny it."

"What, that you have a sense of humor?" Stephen asked. "Or that you can be nice?"

Loki scoffed and moved to push himself off Stephen, only to be stopped by the Sorcerer's arms around him. "There are lots of nice things about you," Stephen whispered suggestively. He traced a hand down Loki's spine, making him shudder softly.

"But I am not nice," Loki insisted.

"Sure," Stephen agreed patronizingly. He gave the Trickster a peck on the lips. And before he pulled away, he knew. He felt it in his gut, in the fluttering of his heart, in every fiber of his being. . . he just knew he was a goner. Whatever Loki had done in the past and even if he was planning to do something in the future, none of that mattered. Looking Loki in the eyes confirmed it. Stephen was falling, hard and fast, for the God of Mischief. It was like a trainwreck – you can see it coming but still be helpless to do anything to stop it. And honestly? Stephen wasn't totally positive he'd stop it, even if he could.

Loki tilted his head to the side, clearly trying to figure out what was going on in the Sorcerer's head. He looked like he was about to say something, when the bedroom door suddenly burst open. "Hey, Strange, you left your phone downstairs and it's been going crazy. And what happened in the Library? It's a mess and—"

Wong stopped halfway to the bed. His eyes were the size of saucers as he took in the sight before him.

"Wong!" Stephen exclaimed. He shoved Loki to the side and stood up. Then, realizing he wasn't wearing any clothes, he quickly sat back down, wrapping the comforter back around him. Loki suddenly vanished, only to reappear on the other side of the room, fully dressed in his tunic and leggings.

Wong glanced from Stephen, to Loki, and back. A devilish grin broke out across the man's face. "So," he said slowly, turning to Loki. "You're Thor's brother?"

"Yes," Loki answered. "Loki Odinson. Or Laufeyson. Or just Loki. . . I suppose." He let his voice come to a sudden halt, realizing that now he was the one rambling.

"Well, uh, I'm Wong," the other Sorcerer said, giving a little wave. Loki offered a tight-lipped nod.

Stephen conjured his clothes, which took longer than necessary since he wasn't entirely sure where each article of clothing had been discarded. When he was dressed and only needed to pull his boots on, he stood up and threw his blanket back on the bed. "How, uh, how was Hong Kong, Wong?"

Loki snorted, amused by the awkward rhyme. Stephen shot him a glare. Wong smiled and looked to his Sorcerer Supreme. "Hong Kong was fine. Not as interesting as New York, it would seem."

Stephen rolled his eyes. "You said something about my phone?"

Wong pulled the device from his pocket and tossed it to Stephen. "Yeah, it was in the kitchen. You have about a million missed calls and texts."

"Thanks." Stephen gripped the phone tight and looked at Wong expectantly. "You can, you know, go. Now."

"Oh, right," Wong said. "I'll just be downstairs. Ready whenever you are." Wong backed up towards the door and just before he closed it, he peeked his head back in and, to Stephen, he said, "You're a very beautiful couple."

"Wong!" Stephen chucked a pillow at the door as it closed, muffling Wong's laughter.

Sheepishly, the Sorcerer looked over to Loki and shrugged uncomfortably. "Sorry."

Loki rocked back and forth on his heels, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, Stephen's phone beeped and he groaned. "Hang on," he said. He unlocked the phone and saw that Wong hadn't been exaggerating about the outrageous number of messages. There were missed calls and voicemails from Sam Wilson, among other members of the Avengers. And countless texts, also from a host of heroes but mostly from Sam, Bucky, and Pepper.

Stephen clicked through the texts from Sam. "Fuck," he muttered, dropping onto the bed.

"What?" Loki asked, taking a few steps forward.

Instead of answering, Stephen held up a finger. Then he dialed Sam and put the phone to his ear.

"Strange?" Sam's frantic voice answered on the first ring. That probably wasn't a good thing.

"Hey," Stephen said as casually as he could muster.

"You're alive."

"Um, yes?"

"And perfectly fine? No tragedies have occurred?" Sam asked, panic starting to fade away.

"No, everything's fine."

"Okay, then maybe you can explain where the hell you've been for the last 14 hours?!" Now, Sam's voice was full-blown anger.

Stephen gestured to Loki as he headed for the door, stepping out into the hallway. "I was at the Sanctum. I still am, actually." He hurried down the steps, trying to still sound collected. "Why? Did, uh, did something happen?"

Wilson laughed. Maybe it was more like a cackle. "Let's just say it's a good thing you're a doctor." He paused. "Actually, good thing you're a surgeon."

"And why is that?" Stephen queried, genuinely curious about where Sam was going.

"Oh because Fury is going to flay us all alive and you'll probably have to clean up the mess." Okay, that was macabre. And Wilson sounded way too calm about it. Which made Stephen worry that it was actually a very real possibility that they had all already discussed.

Stephen supported the phone with his shoulder as he snapped his fingers and adjusted his collar. Within seconds, the Cloak came zipping around the corner and settled onto the Sorcerer's shoulders. He continued down the hallway, stopping at the top of the grand staircase. "What happened with Fury?"

Loki's head snapped to attention at the mention of the Director. He mouthed the word 'SHIELD?' and Stephen instantly shook his head, but then paused and shrugged. Loki's face paled.

"Gee, I don't know, Strange. Just that Loki went missing, we couldn't find you, and nobody knew if the world was in imminent danger?"

Stephen groaned inwardly, but managed to bite his lip to keep the sound from escaping. The Cloak carried him down the stairs, earning an eye-roll from Loki. But the god simply teleported himself to the bottom, looking immensely proud of the fact that he beat Stephen anyway.

Wong entered the foyer, chewing the last of whatever his breakfast had been.

"Yeah, sorry, about that. My phone wasn't working," Stephen told Sam. Wong rolled his eyes, silently admonishing his best friend. "But I'm fine, and so is Loki. We're both here, at the Sanctum."

Sam was silent. Then he snorted. "Strange, are you telling me that you took Loki to the Sanctum, surrounded by all your weird magic voodoo shit?"

That gave Stephen paused. He had never even considered that. He looked at Loki, who was innocently straightening out his tunic. He glanced up when he felt the Sorcerer's eyes on him, raising an eyebrow questioningly. One look at him, and Strange shook away any suspicious thoughts. "It's fine," Stephen finally said. "Look, Wong is back now. We're on our way – all three of us."

"Fine. We'll meet you in the lobby in just a minute," Sam stated firmly. "And Strange? I hope you can come up with a better explanation for Fury." There was a pause, and Stephen heard some commotion in the background. Somewhat quietly, Sam added, "And Thor. . ." Then the line went dead.

Stephen pocketed his phone and sighed. He tilted his head back and growled up toward the ceiling. When he looked back, Loki was talking to Wong.

"—I'm just saying, of all the rooms to downsize in this over-compensatory place, and the kitchen is your choice?" Loki mumbled.

Wong held his hands up in defense. "Hey, I wasn't the decorator! It was like that when we got here."

Loki shook his head. "Word of warning?" he offered. "Feasts are among the highest priority in Asgard. Now, me? I care not. But I would recommend that you never let other Asgardians see that dismal excuse for a kitchen." Wong nodded, taking the advice to heart.

Stephen huffed. "Um, if you two are done discussing interior design?"

"Sorry, boss," Wong replied. But when he looked at his fellow Sorcerer and then Loki, he snickered softly.

Stephen could feel his cheeks burning. "Can we please just go?" he implored.

Wong slipped on his Sling Ring and conjured a portal, which showed the Compound on the other side. Stephen moved to step through the portal but Wong stopped him. He looked down at his friend.

"I take it we'll just clean up the library when we get back, then?"

"I hate you." Stephen seethed, shoving his giggling friend through the portal. He turned back to Loki with a stern look.

The Trickster nonchalantly stepped through the portal, followed closely by Stephen – who couldn't help but feel like he was embarking on an execution march.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

Carol walked into the Avengers Compound, cat kennel in hand. She set it down and popped the door open. "C'mon, Chewie," she cooed. Chewie stepped out, stretching luxuriously.

"What are you doing?" Fury asked when he walked in behind her. "Put that thing back in there!"

"Aw, but he's been all cramped up in the car!" Carol argued. She knew that Fury was in a sour mood but she simply couldn't stop herself from busting his chops. Chewie wandered across the lobby, sniffing around. Carol was proud of herself for stifling her laughter at the look on Fury's face.

"Carol!" a voice called from across the lobby. Carol spun around and smiled.

"PETER PARKER!" she hollered, running toward her friend. She pulled him into a hug that knocked the air out of him.

"Oh, wow," he mumbled into her shoulder. "Hi," he said when she finally let him go.

"How ya doin', Peter Parker?" Carol asked, ruffling the boy's hair. He shoved her hand away playfully.

"Better now that you're here," he told her with a sigh of relief.

"Tell me about it," she responded. "I've been in a car with Fury for two hours." A soft mew drew their attention to the ground. Carol pointed excitedly. "That's Chewie!"

"Cute," Peter told her. "Hi, Chewie," he said, patting the animal's head.

The pleasant moment quickly faded, as Sam rounded the corner with a Bucky, Wanda, Scott, Rhodey, and Clint following him. And they were arguing.

Peter glanced backward and sighed. "Prepare yourself."

Carol nodded. She stepped forward and smiled at Sam. "Looks like you guys forgot your pitchforks," she teased.

"What?" Sam asked, stopping in his tracks. Then he shook his head and walked up to Fury, his phone in his hand. "Strange just called," he announced with tremendous relief.

More footsteps sounded, getting closer to the lobby, followed by a loud boom of thunder outside.

"Oh, Thor's here?" Carol asked, turning to Peter. He chuckled and nodded as Thor charged into the lobby with Valkyrie jogging along behind him.

Once everyone was gathered together in the center of the lobby, they all started talking at once. Outside, rain started to pour and the sky darkened. Carol and Peter stood back, with Chewie between them, eyes wide.

The Airforce Captain could only catch bits and pieces of the debate – mostly, more of the same of what Fury had been barking at her in the car:

"I told you, I heard from Strange. It's all fine."

"Yeah, fine as far as you know. . ."

"But what if it hadn't been?!"

"How could you let Loki just wander around?"

"He'd just come back from the dead—"

"—and you didn't think that was suspicious?"

"I hate to say I told ya so, but—"

"SHUT UP, CLINT!"

Suddenly, there was a particularly loud thunder-clap and the sky lit up with lightning. That made everybody fall silent. Thor, standing near the center of the group, took a deep breath. Then, he asked: "Where is Loki?"

Carol heard a sizzling sound and stepped aside when one of Strange's portals appeared a few feet from her. As the portal closed, she found herself next to Master Wong. Two others stepped through the portal, one being Dr. Strange and another someone she didn't know. That's the person who spoke, answering Thor's question.

"I'm here."

Thor spun around. Upon seeing his brother, he pushed his way through the assembled Avengers, stopping a few feet away. He looked at Loki suspiciously. Then, he pulled one of his vambraces off his wrist and chucked it at Loki's head.

Surprisingly, Loki just let it hit him. It clattered to the ground and Loki gave a small smile. He glanced out the windows, to the thunderstorm. When he looked back, he folded his arms over his chest. "A tad melodramatic – even for you. Don't you think, Brother?"

Thor immediately brightened. And the weather outside joined him, with the rain coming to a sudden stop. A spark of electricity rang through the air, replacing Thor's armor with jeans and a t-shirt. He strode forward a few steps, matched by Loki. Thor wasted no time engulfing his brother – who was roughly the same height, but significantly smaller in frame – into a bone-crushing hug.

"Thor," Loki squeaked out, flailing as he tried to escape his brother's grip. He fought it for a moment longer before giving up and going slack in Thor's arms, finally wrapping his arms around the Thunderer in return.

When Thor unraveled from him, he still kept his hands on Loki's shoulders, as if he was afraid he would disappear if he didn't maintain physical contact. "I thought you were dead."

"I was," Loki told him somberly. Thor raised an eyebrow. "For real," Loki added.

At that, Fury moved forward. "Hey, asshole. Remember me?"

Thor wheeled around. "When I last saw my brother eight years ago, he had fully redeemed himself, Director. He died a hero and was, and still is, a Prince of Asgard. You will show him respect."

"Thor," Loki said softly, placing a hand on Thor's giant forearm. Then he made eye contact with Fury. "I understand your lack of faith in me. I have already been granted far more liberties than I expected or deserved, by your Avengers."

Carol looked at Sam and Clint, who both side-eyed each other and seemed slightly taken aback. She also noticed the smug grins from Bucky and Wanda. Then, she leaned over to whisper in her friend's ear. "Peter Parker," she said, drawing the young man's focus. "Whose side are you on here?"

Peter looked at her curiously, then caught up. "Actually, I like Mr. Loki." Carol looked at Peter and of course he looked like his usual, cordial self. But there was no mistaking a fire in his eyes when he glanced toward Sam.

"Damn," she muttered. "Looks like I should have come a day early. I missed all the drama."

"Not all of it," Peter replied quietly.

Fury was still staring at Loki. Then he leaned around to look at Dr. Strange. "You," he said, pointing a finger to the Sorcerer.

Strange straightened up. "Yes?" he inquired politely.

"You were tasked with monitoring Loki. Then you fell off the grid. Now that you're back, I gotta ask: What the hell happened?"

Strange opened his mouth, but was cut off by Loki. "That would be my fault. We had supper, and then I insisted on a tour of the Sanctum. Purely for educational purposes, of course. It would seem that we lost track of time, and the good doctor was kind enough to offer me a place to stay."

"And your phone wasn't working, Doc?" Sam called, looking at Strange pointedly.

Strange looked somewhat flabbergasted. "Uh, right. Yeah. My phone. It was. . . off."

"But you vouch for Loki?" Fury asked, somewhat incredulously.

At that, Strange stepped forward without hesitation. "Yes," he confirmed. "As Thor stated, it seems as though Loki is quite reformed."

"Enough," Valkyrie's voice cut through. She stomped forward, shoving past everyone – including Fury. She marched right up to Loki, standing a good head and a half or so shorter than him, and yet still managing to make everyone in the room cower. "Lackey," she said sharply.

"Valkyrie," Loki replied. They stared at each other for a moment before the Valkyrie cracked a small smile. She stretched out her arm and Loki returned the gesture. They clasped each other's wrists and then pulled together, with their other hands landing on one another's shoulders, finally putting their foreheads together.

It was one of the most intimate, warrior-like things Carol could remember seeing in a lifetime. More camaraderie than anything shared on Kree battlefields, and maybe even more so than in the Airforce. It almost felt like an intrusion, watching. So Carol averted her eyes.

When Val and Loki separated, the entire mood had changed. Maybe the Valkyrie's display had impacted on everyone.

"Loki is good. He's alive, he's here, and he is staying." Valkyrie announced, staring up into Loki's face. Then, she whirled around to face the others. "Anybody care to disagree?"

There were a few murmurs of "no" and "nah" but mostly just heads shaking. Even Fury shook his head, sighing and throwing his hands in the air.

Thor clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We have much to talk about."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Loki replied with a groan. But Thor only laughed, pulling Loki close and starting to haul him away.

They were stopped by the sound of a whistle. Thor looked to the stairs behind Carol with a huge smile. "Rabbit!" he hollered as he rushed forward, apparently deciding that his brother would be fine while he went to greet his best friend.

Loki turned to look at the reunion, joined by the two Sorcerers. He leaned toward Strange and pointed to Rocket. "My brother does know that's a raccoon, right?"

Carol found herself laughing at that. Loki glanced over, noticing her for the first time. She silenced instantly, slightly taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. Loki was attractive, sure, but it was also obvious how powerful he was. Carol could see why Fury had been so worried, but she also saw what Valkyrie and some of the others had obviously seen: Potential.

Peter waved, which resulted in Loki coming over. Valkyrie came too, seemingly tethered to his side.

"Hello, Arachnid," Loki said with a half-smile.

Peter smiled back. "This," he said as he pointed to Carol, "is Captain Marvel."

"Carol Danvers," she said, giving Pete a good-natured elbow in the side.

Loki looked her up and down, his face neutral. "You're not human."

"Are you asking me, or telling me?" Carol quipped.

After a half-second, Loki smiled. "I think I'll like you," he finally said.

"Thanks?" Carol responded, narrowing her eyes at him, but smiling. As a show of good will, she said, "And you're right. I'm half-Kree."

"Ah," Loki said. "Not naturally, though, it seems?" He clasped his hands behind his back, embodying the royalty that he was.

"Loki!" Thor called. "You have to meet Rabbit!"

"Oh, we've already met," Rocket said mischievously.

Loki sighed and turned to join them, only to find that they were already on their way over. Rocket stepped right up to Loki with a dangerous look in his eyes. He took a deep breath, to speak, but then stopped. He snapped his head toward Strange. Rocket leaned forward, sniffing like mad in Strange's direction.

"What are you doing?" the doctor asked.

Rocket looked up at the Sorcerer with suspicion. "You smell like sex."

Wong stifled a laugh and, before Strange could say or do anything, the other Sorcerer was stalking away, heading toward the temporary living areas. Carol decided to follow Wong, looking forward to getting some good gossip. She started after him but stopped suddenly, remembering Chewie. She looked down, only to find that he was winding himself around Loki's boots.

"Sorry," Carol said, coming up beside the god and reaching for Chewie. But Loki beat her to it. He picked him up, stroking the animal's back fondly.

Thor and the others were heading off. So Loki handed Chewie over to Carol with a grin. "Nice Flerken," he told her before walking away.

Rocket looked back with wide eyes. "That's a Flerken?" he shouted. "Get that thing out of here before it lays eggs!" the raccoon hollered before Thor dragged him around the corner.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me, Danvers?" Fury exclaimed.

Carol laughed nervously, clutching Chewie tighter. She started speed-walking out of the lobby, when Sam called her name. "So close," she whispered. "Go find us a room, Chewie," she told the Flerken, setting him down. He sashayed away as Carol turned and made her way back to the others.

"What's up?" she asked Sam once she reached him.

"You up for a mission?" he asked. To which, Carol nodded enthusiastically. "Scott, go get Nebula," Sam commanded. "Then meet Carol and Wanda in the garage."

Scott hurried to the stairs as Wanda stepped forward, grabbing Carol by the arm and steering her down the hall.

"So, what've we got going on?" Carol asked as they walked.

"We've got a vigilante," Sam told her. "FRIDAY just tracked the energy signature – looks like the individual is at a mall in New York state."

"Cool." Carol shrugged. Sounded easy enough.

"There is one other thing," Bucky added.

"There always is." Carol looked at the Winter Soldier expectantly.

"This guy you're going after? He's using Tony's tech."

"Well, that's a twist," Carol admitted. "Let's go see what the deal is." And with that, she and Wanda headed off to the garage, to meet the other half of their team and head out.