DAY 11 (SUNDAY): 1300 HOURS

She had allowed Sophia to go out with friends, but he saw her mother as she slipped an RFID chip into her backpack, to keep her tracked. Sophia was right, she was overprotective, but it was not his place to say. Usually things like that had no meaning to him, the fact that he was beginning to worry about these things was mildly concerning.

Rule three, under no condition or circumstance are you to talk to my eight year old daughter . . .

That didn't bother him. He never liked kids, even when he was a kid. But what did annoy him was all of this happening after her raving and ranting about trust. She may have been able to see through the lies of those around her, but that little talent of hers did not enable her to lie efficiently.

"Lunch?" she asked.

"I am feeling a little peckish," Loki answered.

"What would you like?" Bella asked, "I don't feel like cooking. Takeout?"

"Of what volition?"

She smiled. Bella had to admit that she liked his eloquence and way with words, "Chinese?" she offered. He shook his head, "Thai?"

"No, too spicy," Loki shuddered. He had spent a little time in Thailand over the last few centuries, mainly because he needed to get away from his quote unquote family. All he learned was that he had no stomach for spicy food.

"How about pizza?"

He smiled at her, "pizza sounds great."

"Good."

"Pizza," he rolled the word around in his mouth, "what does it mean?"

Bella laughed, "it is such a wonderful feeling when you know you're about to change somebody's life forever."

There was a dark sedan parked across the road, and somebody in it held binoculars up to her eyes. He looked up onto the opposite building and which was taller than the townhouse. He saw a dark figure crouched atop a windowsill. Hawkeye may have changed his position slightly, and was all but invisible to most others, he still noticed the man.

"Damn it," Bella whispered, "I'll be back in a second," she said, "don't light any fires."

He watched as Bella crossed the multi-lane road outside the townhouse in her electric blue pants and her SHIELD jacket, and she went up to rendezvous with the person in the car. She banged on the roof.

"Are you and the Hawk going to just peep at us, or are you going to come inside for lunch?"

The last time he had seen Hawkeye was when he was still controlling the young sniper with the Sceptre, and the last time he had seen the Black Widow, Romanov, was when he was shooting at her from the back of a flying jet ski. Needless to say they had not parted on the best of terms.

And what made him nervous right now was Hawkeye- Clint Barton - was staring at him from over the box of deep-pan pizza like he was about to leap over the table and pound him into the dirt. Loki tried to avoid eye contact with the man, but his gaze was withering, and he wanted a slice of pizza but was worried that his old adversary would whip out a machete and take his hand for recompense of his actions.

Natasha Romanov and Bella talked shop, comparing their side arms and the type of rounds they used in them. He caught Romanov taking sneaky glances at Loki although he was about to disappear into a puff of smoke.

He reached out for some pizza and he watched as Hawkeye visibly tensed. He grabbed the slice and drew back.

"You shouldn't let him have free reign," Clint told Bella without breaking eye contact.

"He's mostly harmless," Bella told Hawk.

"It's the 'mostly' that bothers me," Natasha said, deadpan.

Loki sighed into his pizza, "don't look at me like that," he whispered, "please."

Hawkeye didn't say a word. Natasha muttered something to him and a thin smile played across his lips. Loki only sunk lower and took a tiny bite of pizza.

"Stop it, you lot," Bella chided, "just hold hands and sing Kumbia already."

"Do you know what it's like?" He didn't break eye contact with Loki. If nothing else, the Hawk was persistent.

He didn't choose to dignify that with a response, instead opting to his fail-safe position, eating pizza. Bella saw him tense and patted his shoulder comfortingly as he sat stoically in the neon pink turtleneck sweater that he had borrowed from her when the cold snap had began. Without his powers, he suddenly became very susceptible to the cold.

"Cool the beans, Rambo," Bella warned, "my detail, my rules, my pizza."

Hawkeye was silenced, and he continued his brooding stare. Loki took another bite of his pizza.

"You're protecting a man not worthy of protection," he informed her stoically, "let him burn." The silence didn't last long, and Loki sighed into his pizza again.

"Clint . . ." Natasha started, but then she trailed off, "don't lose your cool. We are here to observe, not shoot."

He either wasn't listening or he simply didn't care, "you killed thousands of people," he looked Loki in the eye, "do the world a favour and die," he sneered, "I'll be happy to pull the trigger."

"Barton, that's enough," Bella roared, "I am following my orders, not just from Fury, but from Thor," Loki's head perked up slightly.

"Clint's right," Natasha finally picked a side; "it doesn't change what he did."

"I don't give a flying shit. What's past is past," Bella got up from her seat, "get the fuck out of my house before I throw you out."

"Your friends died in Midtown too," Barton reminded her.

"I'm a Marine, Bird; I follow orders," she bit at him, "and if you don't like them, take it up with the management, and with all the shit you've done recently . . ."

"How is this now about me?"

Loki stood and grabbed another slice of pizza. For a moment everybody looked at him, "as an answer to your first question, Clint Barton, yes," he turned and marched up the stairs, heading for the balcony. They were all silent for a long time until Bella whacked Barton across the back of the head.

There was an awkward silence and Bella sat stoically for a second, thinking about what Loki had just said, "son of a bitch," she glanced at the others, "don't follow me."