Author's Note: This story definitely has a mind of its own. Fair warning – my mind took three left turns, then a right, followed by a U-turn… and I think I'm lost!

Chapter 20: Faith, Trust, and a Little Bit of Pixie Dust… or was that Powdered Sugar?

Stark grabbed Pepper and pulled her off the jet the instant they landed.

"Jarvis? Any idea where I can find them?"

"Yes, I believe so. There was a relatively recent charge on the credit card Mr. Loki has."

"Okay… and where exactly did he make this purchase?" Stark prompted.

"Antoine's. Rather a large charge. There must a be an awfully large party with them."

"Well, that ought to make them easy to find." Stark hopped in the waiting car and raced towards the French Quarter.

He pulled to a stop in front of the restaurant. A valet raced up to the car, opening Pepper's door as Stark got out and tossed him the keys. "Keep it close, please."

The couple walked into the restaurant. The maître d's face paled as he greeted them. "Mr. Stark…" his voice trailed off, clearly worried.

Tony didn't waste any time. "Are they still here? Two dudes. One with long white-blond hair and silver-grey robes, the other with black hair dressed in black and green leather?"

"I am so sorry. They just left… I did verify the charge. I hope that was acceptable. And there were five, not two."

"Five?" Tony stared at him. "What did the other three look like?"

"One is a, ah – resident of New Orleans…"

"Street person?" Tony interrupted.

The maître d nodded. "Yes, one of those. He was, ah, guiding them."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Guiding them?"

"He is relatively safe, compared to some; a rather decent fellow, in fact. He shows up often for any spoils. The kitchen staff knows him."

"Okay, and the other two?" Stark prompted.

"Ah, yes. There was a rather large fellow, dressed in some manner of armor, and a tall female."

Tony looked at Pepper. "Sounds like Tauriel. Wonder who the tall dude is?"

Pepper shrugged. "Who knows the way this thing is working."

Tony directed his attention back to the maître d. "Did you notice where they headed?"

"Ah, indeed I did. Their guide suggested beignets at Café du Monde," the maître d pronounced happily, clearly glad he was able to pass on this information. He still was waiting for Tony to tell them that the credit card had been used fraudulently.

"Thanks!" He turned to leave, then paused. "How much exactly was the bill?"

The maître d swallowed hard, knowing this was the moment of truth. "They did try pretty much everything on the menu…"

"And champagne I'm sure," Start interjected.

"Yes, several bottles. The two men seemed rather fond of it, but I do promise they were not incapacitated… rather the opposite in fact."

"But the bill?" Tony pressed.

The maître d checked the pile of receipts in his drawer; stalling as long as he could he finally selected one and presented it to Tony. He closed his eyes, waiting for the response.

Tony scanned it. "They did eat very well."

The maître d opened his eyes to check that Tony wasn't furious. Rather the opposite in fact and he appeared to be smiling.

"So, how much?" Pepper asked.

Tony handed it to her with a grin. "Two thousand three hundred and forty two dollars?" Her jaw dropped.

"They did consume everything. There were no leftovers," the maître d hurriedly added.

"At least we can write it off, right?" Tony asked.

"I suppose so," Pepper said.

Tony opened his wallet and handed the maître d a one hundred dollar bill. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome, Mr. Stark. Do come again." The maître d smiled in relief, glad that there had been no questions over the enormous bill.

"Café du Monde?" Tony stepped outside.

The valet jumped to attention and pointed to the curb where the car still stood. "You did say to keep it close by." He quickly opened the door and held it for Pepper.

"Good job, boy," Tony slid behind the driver's seat. Once Pepper was settled and the door closed, he roared off. "Café du Monde…"

"You said that already, Tony. What is wrong with Café du Monde?" Pepper asked.

"Have you ever tried the coffee?"

"No, why?"

"It'll put hair on your chest."

~o~O~o~

"Six orders of beignets and coffee," Walter ordered once they were all seated. Their waitress nodded and disappeared.

Loki looked out across Jackson Square, noticing the statue at the forefront. He watched the pedestrians for a minute before returning his attention back into the café. He noted the smattering of white powder on the ground, then realized their table was covered in it. With a few elegant swipes of his hand, he dusted the powder off his sleeves.

A musician was standing outside the café playing jazz music.

"Pleasant sound, what is it called?"

"That be a classic… When the Saints Come Marching In," Charlie answered. "It's jazz, music to my ears." He smiled blissfully. "I could lissen to that all night long."

"You do listen to it all night long, you sleep over there," Walter jabbed his friend in the ribs.

Charlie sighed. "True, but even if I didn't, I could."

Their waiter reappeared with two trays. The first was filled with plates while the second held mugs. She carefully set down a plate of beignets in front of each person, then placed the mugs down. "That'll be twenny four dollars."

Loki pulled out the credit card and was about to offer it when a car screeched to a halt behind the jazz musician. "Loki!" Tony jumped out, leaving the car parked in the street.

"Tony!" Pepper shouted from the car. "Get back in here and move this!" Cars that were stuck behind the car were now honking noisily.

"I'll be there in a sec," Tony smiled and waved at the irate drivers. "Loki? What the hell are you doing here?"

"We are having ben gays and café au lait," Loki replied calmly. "I do suggest you acquiesce to Miss Pepper's request. Those other people do not appear happy with where you have parked your small limo."

"Does it also have champagne?" Thranduil asked quickly.

"That is not a limo, it is a car."

"Listen, buddy," the waitress interrupted, putting her hands on her hips. "I don't care if it's an airplane, these guys gotta pay unless you are."

"Two more orders," Tony replied, handing her a fifty. "I'll be right back. Let me go park the car." As he walked away, he tossed over his shoulder. "Keep the change!"

"Two more orders it is!" The waitress scurried back into the building.

Thranduil stared at the pile of beignets on his plate. "How does one eat these?"

Walter threw back his head and laughed. "You're gonna get dirty, no matter how hard you try. Least it won't show on you…" he nodded towards Loki. "You on the other hand, ain't no way you're gettin' out of here without a bit of powder showing on your fancy clothes." He then picked up one of the beignets and took a bite out of it. "Hmmm- hmmm… I love these things."

Loki picked one up gingerly, taking a small bite. "Interesting. It is rather good. Try yours," he prompted the others.

Tauriel was about to take a bite out of one of her beignets when a gust of wind blew through the outdoor café, causing the powdered sugar that was caked on top of her beignet to fly into her face. She sneezed, causing the remainder of the powdered sugar to spray all over everyone at the table. She glanced at Heimdall, then started laughing as the giant of a man was covered in white sugar. "Oh my, I am so sorry, but…"

Heimdall gravely shook his head. "It is nothing."

Tony and Pepper arrived, pulling up a table to join the party. The waitress appeared with the remainder of the order, setting it down. "Can I get you anything else?"

Tony shook his head. "Thanks, but I think we're fine. So, I hear you boys have been hitting all the hot spots in town." He took a bite of his beignet; chewing slowly, he savored the flavors. "I forget how good these are. But beware the coff…"

Thranduil spluttered, spitting out the mouthful of coffee he'd sipped. "What is this vile brew? Orc draught?" He slammed the mug on the table.

Walter sniggered. "It's an acquired taste… you'll get used to it."

Thranduil frowned at the coffee. "I have no desire to acquire a taste for that horrid drink."

Loki picked up his mug and sniffed it. "It does smell bitter."

"Trust me, it is," Thranduil assured him. "At least the beignets were good. Do they have champagne here?"

Hearing Thranduil's request, the waitress reappeared from the building, heading their way.

Another gust of wind blew through the café, lifting the powdered sugar off their plates and scattering it everywhere. As it settled, she stopped dead in her tracks for the entire group was gone!

Author's Note: Ah, Café du Monde… I adore the beignets there. As I wrote it, I could almost imagine the taste of one. Must head there again soon myself. Wish I could just "pop" in like my characters!