Chapter 14 - Palacinka

Wanda eyed Tony suspiciously as he dug around in the refrigerator. "What are you doing?"

"Whenever Pep cooks, she doesn't make enough food, so I'm still a little hungry. Just going to make a snack." Tony placed the eggs and the milk on the counter next to the stove. He took out a large mixing bowl from under the counter. Even with his back to her, he knew Wanda was still watching as he took the flour and the powdered sugar from another cabinet and set them out with the rest of his ingredients. What else did she have to do? She had been sitting at the table for almost an hour, staring at a plate of cold fish and broccoli. Once he had mixed the batter together, he took a large frying pan from under the counter and put it on the stove, turned the stove up to medium high, and waited for it to heat up. He poured just enough batter in to cover the bottom of the pan.

"Are you making palacinka?"

Tony didn't answer Wanda's question, but he was pretty sure the answer was yes. Anna had called them palacsinta. Most native English speakers would call them crepes, although there was probably some subtle difference between the two that he didn't fully appreciate. He made a humming noise. "Should I make these with cottage cheese or jam?"

"They are best with orange marmalade."

"Sounds good. I know Bruce likes marmalade on toast, so if you look in the refrigerator, there might be some."

"I thought I wasn't allowed to leave the table until I ate this cold, overly salty fish."

The fish hadn't been cold an hour ago, nor was there any salt on Wanda's fish. Pepper had made her portion without any seasoning, but he wasn't going to call her on it. "I've got to watch this pan, so you're allowed to get up and hand me stuff. Which is a special privilege, by the way, because I usually hate it when people hand me stuff."

Wanda got up and went to the refrigerator. It only took her a few moments to find the orange marmalade, possibly because Pepper had organized the common room refrigerator alphabetically, bless her poor little OCD heart. She placed the jar of marmalade on the counter next to Tony, then hovered there uncertainly.

"Could you go get a plate?" Tony asked her. "This one's almost done." Wanda went straight to the cabinet where the plates were kept. She was an intelligent and observant girl, and Tony would have bet that she already knew the location of everything in the kitchen better than he did. She took out a large plate and brought it back to him. Tony slid the crepe onto it while it was still in her hands. "Why don't you take that one?"

"I thought this was a snack for you."

"It is, but there's plenty of batter here."

"You think you can trick me into eating? Do I look like a child?"

"Fine, if you don't want it—"

Wanda pursed her lips together and stared down at the crepe. "I didn't say I didn't want it." She looked back up at him with big eyes, as if begging him to tell her she had to eat it.

"Go ahead and eat it," Tony told her. "I won't tell anyone if you won't."

"If I eat it, do I still have to eat the fish?"

"Actually, I'm thinking you shouldn't eat fish that's been sitting out for over an hour. Why don't we just toss that, okay?"

Wanda grabbed a spoon out of the drawer that she already knew contained the cutlery and spread a generous amount of marmalade over her palacsinta, or palacinka, or whatever you wanted to call it. She rolled it up and took it back to the table, pushing her dinner plate aside. Tony watched as she gobbled up half the marmalade filled crepe, but then she slowed down and began to quietly hyperventilate in that same way that Loki did before having a meltdown. A moment later, Wanda pushed her plate away and began sobbing into the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

"Whoa, whoa. What's wrong? It can't be that bad. I'm pretty sure this is the one of the few things I know how to make."

"It's good," Wanda said through her tears. "It tastes just like the ones mama used to make, except maybe a little sweeter."

"Oh, crap." Tony was still prepaid on the swear jar, but at this rate he was going to have to put another hundred bucks in there. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you homesick."

Wanda's sobbing only grew louder. "That's not it. I want to hate you, but it is too hard when you are nice! Why can't you just be a terrible person so I can hate you?"

Tony stood there feeling like a complete jerk, even though according to Wanda, the problem was that he hadn't been one. Would it make him even more of a jerk if he tried to comfort her? Before he could come up with an answer, a speeding bullet train hit him, or at least that was what it felt like. He should have been laid out across the floor, but Pietro held him up by the collar of his shirt. "What have you done to my sister, Stark?"

Tony shook his head, trying to get his brain to reassemble itself enough so that he could talk.

"Pietro, stop," cried Wanda. "All he did was make me palacinka. It tastes so good—like mama's."

Pietro looked from the bowl of batter to the pan on the stove. He let go of Tony's collar, allowing him slink to his knees. "Oh. That is okay then." Pietro sat down at the table, as if he hadn't just been involved in a head-on collision. "I like mine with cheese curds and walnuts."

"There's cottage cheese in the fridge, leftover from Pep's last detox diet," Tony told him. "And there must be walnuts around here somewhere because Thor was showing off, using that hammer of his to crack them, like a week or two ago. But you might need to make your own, because I think I might have a concussion."

┗(*｀へ´*)┓三┗( ●-෴ ｀｡)づ-[二二]

Tony must have blacked out, because when he woke up, he was lying on a cot in med bay, and Bruce was looking down at him with that "this is your own fault" look again. "You know, you're supposed to be taking it easy. You're lucky you didn't do any more damage to your shoulder when you hit the floor."

"I was just making a snack," Tony complained as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the cot. "How was I supposed to know it would be dangerous?"

Bruce shook his head, but the reproachful look he'd been giving him slid, turning into something tired and distraught.

"Hey, you alright?"

"Not really, Tony. I saw my psychiatrist today. She thinks I should take a hiatus from the whole Avenger thing."

"If that's what you need, I'm sure we can do without you for a few weeks."

"It might need to be more than a few weeks."

"Take as much time as you need, then. Your health comes first. You are going to stay here, though? You're not still thinking about leaving?"

Bruce's expression became pained. "I don't see how I can stay, Tony. I wouldn't be earning my keep, for one thing."

"That's one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard. First of all, even if you weren't Avengering with us, you're still like our staff physician—"

"You really ought to get someone with a valid medical license."

"Bruce, I couldn't care less how out of date your credentials are. There's no one else I'd rather have putting me back together after I've done something stupid, like flying into a helicopter while talking on the phone."

"You could just stop doing things like that."

"We both know I won't. Anyway, like I said, you're pretty much our staff physician, which I haven't even been paying you for. You're also my science bro, and you've made enough contributions to my projects that SI should be paying you too."

"I've told you that's unnecessary. As long as I get the resources to continue my own research, we're more than even."

"Whatever you say, Bruce. Just know that your name is on more than one patent, and you can expect to start getting royalty checks in the mail soon. If you don't cash them, I'll just have them converted into SI stock. Reason three that your whole 'I wouldn't be earning my keep' thing is ridiculous: your boyfriend is our staff psychologist. If Leonard had had a wife, husband, or domestic partner when I brought him on, they'd be living here rent free too, and they'd be on his health insurance and everything."

"Leonard and I aren't married."

"Hey, let's not focus on minor details, alright? I'm still not going to throw you out of the tower for Leonard's sake as much as anyone else's. And even if you weren't dating Leonard, you'd still be part of the family, so really, all the other arguments don't even matter. I want you here, Leonard and Loki need you here. That's that. You're not going anywhere. You're stuck with us for better or for worse, until death do us part. Got it?"

"Tony, the Avengers aren't really—"

Before Bruce could finish that statement, the door to the examination room opened, and Loki wandered in, holding a plate of palacsinta. "Stark, I demand to know why you have not made these before. I was under the impression that the only thing you could make was chicken paprikash."

"I might be able to make a few other things," Tony admitted.

"Do you want to know what I think? I think you have been pretending to not know how to cook to get out of having to cook meals, when the truth is you are a better cook than anyone else here."

"JARVIS, what time is it?"

"It is after nine PM," JARVIS announced.

Loki made a whining sound. "Tony, you can't have been serious about that. Nine is much too early."

Tony rolled his eyes at the kid's dramatics. "Loki, I want you to go to bed without throwing a tantrum, or I swear I'm going to change my mind about beating your ass."

Bruce lurched towards him and made another one of those growling noises he'd been making lately. It might have been his own imagination running wild, but Tony could have sworn that his irises were tinged with green.

"Whoa, whoa—it was a joke Bruce, you know I'd never hit him!"

Loki dropped his plate on the ground and sprinted out of the room like an antelope that had spotted a lion. Bruce covered his eyes with his hands and stepped backwards until he hit the wall. Tony just stood there, giving Bruce a few moments to collect himself before he said anything. "Okay, so you really weren't kidding about needing some time off—"

"Don't come near me."

"I'm not. I'm staying right where I've been the whole time. JARVIS, could you call Doc up here—"

"NO."

"Okay, cancel that, JARVIS. Definitely do not call Doc up to med bay."

"Understood, Sir." Hopefully, what JARVIS had understood was that he meant for him to do the opposite.

"I need to get out of here before I hurt someone."

"You're not going to hurt anyone, Bruce, because no one's being threatened. For a second there, you thought I was threatening Loki, or maybe Hulk did, but that was a joke. A joke that was in really bad taste now that I think about it."

"You don't know that I won't hurt anyone. I'm not safe, Doctor Sofen said so."

"Screw Doctor Sofen, Bruce. You've seen her what, twice? I mean, yeah, you've been a little off your game—"

"I broke Natasha's arm."

"Hulk broke Natasha's arm."

"Doctor Sofen says we're the same person."

"Again, screw Doctor Sofen. Even if that's true, we have no proof that the other guy meant to hurt her. It might have just been an accident. Hulk throws Nat into the air all the time when we're in the middle of a fight, and she usually lands on her feet. I watched him throw her onto a moving helicopter once."

"I also attacked Thor."

"That wouldn't be the first time that happened either. Hulk and Thor have kind of a friendly rivalry going on. Thor loves testing his strength against the big guy, and he's pretty much immortal. I mean, you remember that when Loki was still immortal, you smashed him into floor repeatedly and he was perfectly—"

Bruce glared at him.

"Oh crap, sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up." Note to self, put five hundred dollars in the swear jar, just to play it safe. "He's fine now though, and he's not even scared of you anymore. I mean, until a couple minutes ago, anyway—" This was not going well. Where was Doc?

The elevator doors opened and when Bruce saw Doc walk out, he doubled down on glaring at Tony. The man approached carefully, as if Bruce were a small, wounded animal. "Hey, Bruce. Why don't we go back to our room to talk, and you could take your medication?"

Tony held his own breath until Bruce nodded reluctantly and let Doc lead him out of the room. When they were gone, he took a few steps before catching himself on the edge of a countertop. He still felt a little woozy, and he'd forgotten to ask Bruce if he thought he had a concussion. Oh well, there would be time enough to have a concussion later. "JARVIS, find out everything you can about this psychiatrist Bruce is seeing. Something just doesn't seem right there. Where's Loki, by the way?"

"He went straight to bed, Sir."

Tony sidestepped Loki's spilled palacsinta on his way to the elevator. "While you're at it, get Dummy or U to clean that up."

"Dummy and U aren't allowed in the med bay," JARVIS told him. "There's too much equipment in the med bay that would be a larger hassle to replace than a blender or coffee maker."

"Fine. You clean it up, then."

"Would that I could, Sir."

ヽ(д`ヽ)｡｡ ( ° ෴ ° ) (๑‾᷆д‾᷇ ╬ )

Tony knocked on Loki's door but didn't wait for him to respond before entering. The lights were still on, but Loki was already in bed with the comforter pulled up over his head.

"I'm guessing you're still awake, Rudolph."

"No, I'm not. I'm asleep. I went to bed just like you told me, without making any more fuss."

"You know I wasn't serious about beating you, right?"

"I know you weren't, but Bruce seemed rather more serious."

Tony sat down on the edge of the bed. "Loki, he was getting growly with me, not you. I don't think Hulk appreciated my sense of humor." He tugged on the comforter. "Bruce would never hurt you, and neither would the other guy. Haven't you noticed how protective Hulk has been of you ever since that time you died? He was the one that dug you out of the rubble, and you don't know what it took for us to convince him to put you down. He carried you all the way back to the tower."

Loki's head emerged from the comforter. "Bruce didn't transform just now, did he?"

"No, he managed to hold himself back. He's scared he's losing it, though."

"I shouldn't have run."

"No, that was fine. If you're ever in a situation where you don't feel safe, feel free to remove yourself from it, so long as that doesn't put you in more danger. To tell the truth, things might have been worse if you'd stayed, because Hulk might not have backed off if he thought you needed protecting."'

"Wonderful. All I need is yet another overprotective guardian."

"Personally, I think I've been just the right amount of protective, but let's not start that argument up again now. Hey, you want me to make more palacsinta for you, since you dropped yours earlier?"

Loki shook his head. "I didn't need it anyway. It would have gone straight to my thighs."

"You're not fat, Loki. You've been on Earth for what, eight months? And you're already having body image issues. I blame Facebook."

"It's not like we don't have 'body image issues' on Asgard. It's just that instead of wanting to look like Beyonce or David Beckham, everyone wants to look like Thor."

"Even the women?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "I suppose the women all want to look like Lady Kelda."

"Kelda, huh? And what does she look like?"

"Like a Norse Kim Kardashian."

Tony whistled. "Is this Kelda a fertility goddess or something?"

"Not that I know of. But you realize that Thor and my mother were both considered to be fertility deities by your ancient Norse people?"

"I can see that, I guess."

"Unless you consider that Thor was a toddler in that era, and that Frigga seems to be barren."

"Huh—"

"Don't think about it too hard; you've already suffered a head injury. Didn't you mean for me to be asleep by now? Not that I'll even be able to sleep this early."

"Loki, even before everything that's been happening, I thought it would be a good idea to establish a regular bedtime for you. It really might help with your sleep issues."

"You're one to talk about my sleep issues."

"I know, I keep weird hours and I don't get as much sleep as I should. But I'm not still growing—and don't say anything about how I must have stopped growing when I was twelve. I'm actually normal, it's everyone else around here that's freakishly tall."

"Who has the body issues now?"

"For your information, I am Tony frickin' Stark, and I am one hundred percent comfortable in my own skin. Anyway, you don't have to go to sleep. You just have to lie in bed with your eyes closed and the lights off. That's all I ask."

"I don't have to lie in bed with all the lights off, do I?"

Crap, he'd forgotten. Loki didn't sleep with the lights off. He still couldn't be in complete darkness without getting anxious, because it reminded him of the void he had fallen through that one time. "No, of course not. You can sleep with the lights dimmed like you normally do." Now he wondered if Loki's strong objection to having a bedtime had to do with his fear of being alone in the dark, and all the anxiety he already had around sleeping. The kid didn't even sleep in his own bed half the time. Tony cursed himself for once again being a complete idiot.

But he didn't want to go back on his word now, because the kid needed consistency and for people to do what they said they were going to do, yada, yada, yada. Tony told himself it ought to be fine. Loki wasn't freaking out yet, and like he'd already told him, there was no reason he had to turn the lights all the way off and lay there in the dark; or be alone, for that matter. "Hey JARVIS, go ahead and dim the lights. You, scootch over."

"You're going to sleep here?"

"I might have a concussion. I shouldn't sleep alone."

"When you do sleep at night, you sleep beside Lady Pepper," Loki pointed out. "Also, if you might have a concussion, aren't I supposed to wake you up every hour or so to check for confusion? That's what you all did when you thought I might have one."

"It's not that kind of concussion," he said, lying down in the space Loki had vacated for him. Just in case he did have a concussion, he wouldn't go to sleep; he'd just wait until Loki fell asleep, then sneak out. After that, he could have JARVIS monitor the kid and let him know if he woke up.

"But it's the kind of concussion that means you can't sleep on your own." Loki didn't seem to be buying it, but he wasn't telling him to get out of his bed either.

"Don't think about it too hard."

[(≚෴≚)] [(-, – )] ƶƵz

"Sir," said JARVIS.

Tony couldn't remember where he was for a moment, until he looked around Loki's dimly lit room and heard the young god snoring next to him. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes, Sir. I took it upon myself to wake you just in case you do have a concussion. I suppose I should ask you something to make sure you are not suffering from confusion. If you would Sir, answer the following? If x is the average of m and 9, y is the average of 2m and 15, and z is the average of 3m and 18, what is the average of x, y, and z in terms of m?"

"Uh—am I allowed to use a calculator? And maybe a dry erase board?"

"Oh dear. If you can't answer a simple question like that, perhaps I should summon an ambulance."

"No, don't do that JARVIS. I'm pretty sure the answer is C. The answer is usually C."

"This isn't a multiple-choice exam, Sir. Are you certain you aren't experiencing confusion?"

"JARVIS, sometimes I can't tell if you're the one whocan't tell I'm joking, or if I'm the one who can't tell you're joking."

"I suppose we're at an impasse then."

Tony threw his hands up in the air. "See, I still can't tell. Can I go back to sleep, by the way?"

"Actually, Sir, I thought you might be interested in the information I found on Doctor Karla Sofen."

Tony forced himself out of Loki's bed, stretching the muscles in his back as he did. "Already dug up some dirt, huh? Just a second, J. I'm going into the kitchen, and you can tell me in there. Let's try to avoid disturbing the kid."

Tony wandered out into the kitchen and grabbed the coffee beans from the cabinet over the coffee maker.

"It is still the middle of the night, Sir. Are you sure you shouldn't have a glass of water instead?"

"Now I know you have a sense of humor, J. Just tell me what you found on Sofen."

"According to the website for Doctor Sofen's practice, she graduated from the Stanford University School of Medicine and completed her residency at Metro-General Hospital in New York. She is board certified and licensed by the State of New York to practice psychiatry."

"And—?"

"That information seems to check out."

"I'm sensing a 'but,' here."

"I find her Yelp reviews a bit troubling, Sir."

"So she's got bad reviews on Yelp. So does Leonard. SI gets a lot of online complaints, for that matter. People will complain about anything when they can hide behind a screen name. And it's more likely that someone who's unhappy is going to take the time to write a review than someone who's a satisfied customer, which can really skew the ratings."

"That's the problem. Karla Sofen has no negative reviews on Yelp, or on any other similar website."

"Okay. So maybe her patients just really like her?"

"I suppose it's a possibility, but her reviews seem so glowing as to seem suspicious. This is where I did a little bit of digging—and hacking into Karla Sofen's own files."

"JARVIS Just a Rather Very Intelligent System Stark! I did not tell you to hack into a psychiatrist's case files. That is illegal, immoral, unconscionable, and a violation of those people's privacy." Tony paused. "Did you get all that, JARVIS?"

"Yes, Sir. I have your objection on record just in case there is a police investigation into our activities. However, I doubt we'll be caught. The files were kept on a personal laptop and lacked even the most basic encryption."

"Better safe than sorry. Hubris can be a bitch, you know?"

"My, but Sir has become wise in his old age."

"And you've become a comedian in yours. Anyway, I'm guessing you found an interesting pattern or two when you examined those files?"

"I certainly did. To begin with, I found that Doctor Sofen does not see much turnover of her clientele."

"So that's a good thing, right?"

"In the case of a psychiatrist, it might mean that her clients tend not to experience much improvement in their conditions."

"But if she's the kind of psychiatrist that takes on really challenging cases, wouldn't it be normal for those kinds of patients to see her long term? It's not like you can just see a psychiatrist for a few months and be cured of schizophrenia. And why would her clients stick with her, if they weren't getting any better at all? They could always find another psychiatrist."

"Actually, Sir, after having looked over Doctor Sofen's case files, I found that most of her patients begin seeing her for what might be considered all too common complaints: relatively mild anxiety and mood disorders, stress, relationship issues, etcetera. However, with Doctor Sofen's help, the majority discover that their issues run much deeper than they thought."

"So, either these people were all a lot sicker than they thought, and she's actually just a fantastic psychiatrist for helping them to realize that, or she's a quack—"

"Again, her credentials all seem to be valid. She isn't a fraud in that sense."

"Right, she's actually a highly skilled psychiatrist who gaslights her own patients. But why would she do that?"

"I could only speculate. However, it seems Doctor Sofen's first patient was a childhood friend of hers, a Deanna Stockbridge."

"A childhood friend? Isn't that a conflict of interest—wait, Deanna Stockbridge? As in, the daughter of Charles Stockbridge, the Hollywood producer?"

"The very same."

"Isn't she the one that drove her car onto the Hollywood hiking trail and ended up in a police chase that ended with her driving off the side of the mountain, taking out the second 'o' in the Hollywood sign—oh, shit."

"Indeed, Sir, and it seems she left quite a few of her assets to Karla Sofen in her will. I should add that many of Doctor Sofen's current patients are similarly well off or high profile."

"Okay, I'm beginning to see how this scheme could work out for her. Hold on, though. Leonard's been going to her too, and he seems to be a lot better off than he was back in the summer."

"I believe that her goal with Doctor Samson might have been to encourage him to refer Doctor Banner to her."

"Right, because what's the point of screwing with the head of the Avenger's staff psychiatrist when you could play mind games with the guy who turns into the Hulk? Does this woman even understand what a dangerous game she's playing?"

"Perhaps that is the crux of it. Karla Sofen herself is quite well off financially at this point in her career. If she wanted to, she could comfortably retire."

"But she enjoys her work. She gets a thrill out of it."

"I would surmise so, Sir."

Tony tapped his fingers on the kitchen countertop as he concocted a plan. "JARVIS, I want you to make me an appointment with Doctor Sofen."

"Sir, I'm not certain you would be the best person to go undercover to investigate Doctor Sofen's methods."

"Why not? I would think she'd love to get her claws into Tony Stark."

"Even if you are high profile enough to fit Karla Sofen's modus operandi—"

"JARVIS, are you saying I wouldn't be enough of a challenge for her, because I'm already too screwed up?"

"I was going to say that having another Avenger fall into her lap might arouse her suspicion, but now that you mention it—"

"So, we need someone high-profile, but not quite as high-profile as me, and they need to be relatively sane. Now obviously, I know plenty of high-profile people. The question is, do I know anyone sane?"

([9 +m +2m+15 + 3m+18] /2 )/3 = ( (6m + 42)/2) / 3 = (3m+21)/3 = m+7_φ(◎◎|||)

"Pep, wake up."

Pepper groaned and rolled in the direction of the alarm clock on her bedside table. "Tony, it's three o'clock in the morning. Is this something that can't wait a few more hours?"

Tony winced. "Now that I think of it, it probably could have. Sorry, I just got a little overexcited. I need you to make an appointment with a psychiatrist."

"I'm not your personal assistant anymore. Besides, Leonard is your psychiatrist, and he lives with us."

"The appointment isn't for me, it's for you. And I don't want you to make it with Leonard, I want you to make it with the psychiatrist Leonard and Bruce have been going to."

Pepper just looked at him like he was out of his mind, which might be fair enough.

( ๑•෴•๑ ) [3AM] [(≖_≖ *)]

Pepper held her phone out so that Tony could see the screen. "So, this is the woman you think is manipulating Bruce?"

Tony squinted at Doctor Sofen's profile photo. A mousy woman with dirty blonde hair in a messy bun, wearing a chunky cable knit sweater and coke bottle glasses squinted back at him. Pepper wasn't wrong that she fit the image of an archetypal cat lady more than she did a dangerous criminal. He shrugged. "They say you can't judge a book by its cover. Besides, she isn't plain so much as she looks like the supposedly plain girl in every teen movie who's actually one makeover away from being a supermodel. Take off the glasses, put her in something a little slinkier, and she could totally be a femme fatale."

Pepper tossed her phone back onto the nightstand. "Tony, I'm going back to sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow."

＿٤〆( ° ෴ ° ) BONUS: PROJECT "INFORM THE UNIVERSE THAT LOKI IS TONY'S KID," ATTEMPT #2

The door to the stairwell opened and Loki poked her head into Tony's lab. "Am I in trouble?"

"Why do you always ask that?"

"Because I usually am in trouble."

"That's true enough, but if you haven't done anything—wait, what did you do?"

Loki batted her eyelashes at him and flashed him a saccharine smile. "Nothing you need to worry your pretty little mortal head about."

That was less than reassuring, but Tony didn't want to get sidetracked. "Just come over here."

"Why?"

Tony had given a lot of thought as to just where he had gone wrong in his first attempt and decided that his mistake had been in choosing something to bond with Loki over that wasn't one of his strengths. He wouldn't make that mistake this time. "I'm going to teach you how to solder components to a circuit board."

"Why?"

"Because as my kid, you should know how to do this kind of thing."

"In case you fly into another helicopter and I have to put you back together?"

Tony arched an eyebrow at her. "I'm not a robot."

"But do you not qualify as a cyborg?" Loki came forward to poke the spot where the arc reactor glowed softly through his Black Sabbath t-shirt with her finger.

Tony caught her wrist. Loki might be his kid, but he still wasn't entirely comfortable with anyone other than Pepper touching the arc reactor. "No touchy the glowy thing, got it? As for your question, cyborgs aren't robots either, and whether or not I'm considered one depends on your definition of 'cyborg.' If your definition of a cyborg is any person whose body combines organic and mechanical parts, not only am I a cyborg, so is anyone with a pacemaker. Stretch it even further, and Clint's a cyborg because he uses hearing aids, and Bruce is one because he wears glasses. I mean, where do you draw the line? Originally, the term was coined to apply to a theoretical human modified for life in a hostile alien environment by the substitution of artificial organs and other body parts—"

"Wow, you are such a nerd."

"You're the one that asked."

Loki still seemed less than excited about it, but she now hovered directly behind Tony's shoulder, eying the circuit board in front of them as if it were a snake ready to strike; of course, if it had been a snake, she probably would have turned herself into a snake and made friends with it.

"Look, it's easy. I've already got this LED in place. First you just clean off the tip of the soldering iron on this sponge here, then you want to use the soldering iron to heat up the resister lead and the copper pad at the same time. Then you just melt a little solder into the joint, got it? Now you try."

"Must I? If you insist on teaching me something, I would prefer to learn how to drive."

"We've talked about this before, Loki. You don't need to learn how to drive, and there is no way in hell I'm going to teach you in the middle of Manhattan. Now here, take the soldering iron—NOT BY THAT END!"

Tony had been too afraid to look to see how severe the burn to Loki's hand was, but it had to be bad, considering that she had just wrapped her hand around a soldering iron that had been heated to somewhere around four hundred degrees Celsius. Instead, he had picked her up in a fireman's hold and rushed her to the elevator. It seemed to him that she was a lot heavier than she looked, maybe heavy enough that he shouldn't have been able to pick her up without his suit, but his adrenaline was running high enough in that moment that he might have been able to pick up a small sports utility vehicle if he had to. "Seriously, Loki, what the hell were you thinking? You had to know it was going to be hot!"

He hadn't had to tell JARVIS what floor to take them to. "Bruuuce," Loki called as soon as the doors opened out onto Bruce's laboratory. "Tony tried to force me to learn how to use his dangerous, primitive tools. He handed me something that nearly burned my hand off, and now he's yelling at me like it's my fault."

"Tattletale," Tony hissed at her.

"Okay, everyone just calm down. Tony, put her down on that stool. JARVIS already let me know what happened. I've got the first aid kit right here." At least Bruce seemed to be having one of his good days. It really ought to have occurred to Tony that he was risking having the Hulk take his head off, bringing an injured Loki to him, especially an injured Loki whose injuries he was responsible for; but the moment he'd seen Loki wrap her hand around the wrong end of the soldering iron, he hadn't thought at all so much as he had acted. Tony set Loki down on the stool and Loki held her hand out for Bruce to examine. "From what I can see, it's just a first-degree burn, or maybe a mild second-degree burn," he said, after giving her hand a cursory glance. "There's nothing to get worked up over. Loki, go to the sink and run your hand under cold water, then we'll put some antibiotic gel and a bandage on it."

As soon as Loki was gone Bruce turned to Tony and scowled at him.

"What? I was just trying to teach my daughter to solder, like any good father would."

"Maybe next time, turn the soldering iron around before handing it to her, and warn her that it's hot. She's from an alien planet with technology so advanced that it looks like magic to us. If they have anything like soldering irons, they're probably 'magical' soldering irons that are only hot when they touch metal, and not when they touch organic matter."

Holy shit, why hadn't he invented a soldering iron that worked like that? As many times as he'd absentmindedly grabbed the wrong end of one himself—

Bruce snapped his fingers in front of Tony's face. "Hey, are you listening?"

He swatted Bruce's hand away. "Yeah, I hear you. I should have been more careful. Anyway, I doubt there's going to be a next time." After this, Loki likely wouldn't want to come near his workshop and his "primitive tools" anytime soon, which was sure to be an obstacle in his quest to convince the universe that Loki was his…