CLINT (guest appearance by Dr. Doom)

Loki couldn't believe he was once again in Latveria. What the hell was he thinking. He looked across the table at Victor von Doom, who was pouring red wine of unknown vintage from a rather gaudy decanter. Honestly, the mortal had no taste. "You do realize I will accept neither food nor drink from you, do you not? The last time you guested me, I awoke cuffed face down on an X-shaped frame, with my powers suppressed. You proceded to educate me on the concept of 'safe words', and informed me that the safe word was Victor. I believe I rolled my eyes at that point. As I recall, you then beat me with bound branches. It was most unpleasant."

Doom nodded. "I birched you. It was very satisfying on an emotional level, enabling me to have vengeance of a sorts for your many betrayals. I was, however, disappointed by the fact that you broke far sooner than I expected. I had to bring my little experiment to an end before your fruitless screaming of 'Victor' ruptured your vocal cords. Though I did enjoy hearing my name screamed by you with such desperation. And I must protest the fact that you levelled a good portion of my castle in retaliation. I lost many good Doombots."

Loki narrowed his eyes to mere slits. "It's a pity you didn't end up under the rubble. You are a sadistic bastard, Victor. As much as I love these visits, I do have things to attend to. Why did you wish to see me?"

"I am concerned about you. These divertissements you enage in are childish and unworthy. I fear you have lost your focus and as an occasional ally, this causes me no little consternation. I do have a reputation to maintain."

"Ah. Are you thinking that perhaps that I need, what is the term, an 'intervention'? Counseling from the brotherhood of super-villains? Set firmly back upon the path of evil?" Loki snorted. "My little amusements are done purely for my entertainment. The fact that they also cause problems for Thor and his merry band of do-gooders is a bonus. Rest assured that I do have a plan, of a more subtle nature this time. It suits me better."

"It did occur to me, briefly, upon seeing the nude photos of you on the internet, that perhaps you were planning to conquer the world through pornography. You are well equipped for it."

Loki smirked and nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Though I have been inconvenienced because of those photos, they have given me a certain celebrity, which is useful. I took your advice on hiring a public relations firm, and your recommendation. So far, it's worked out well. I've brought you copies of my photo shoots and articles."

"That is very kind of you. They won't combust into flames or explode, I trust."

Loki placed his right hand on his heart. "I promise. Now if you will excuse me, I have some errands to run back in Manhattan."

True to Loki's word, there was neither fire nor explosion, which surprised the hell out of Doom and caused him to worry once again. The Liesmith telling the truth?.

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Clint had just picked up his shawarma order and as he sat down he happened to glance out the window. WTF? He could not believe it. There stood Loki, surrounded by a group of nuns, who were taking turns snapping photos with him. This was just so wrong in ways Clint couldn't find the words to express. The nuns should be whacking Loki with a ruler, shaking their fingers at him, expressing their disapproval. Not giggling like a group of school girls. Sure, Loki was good looking in an edgy sort of way, but he was a super-villain for fuck's sake. Clint watched as Loki finally managed to extricate himself from the nuns and went into a Starbucks.

Clint kept an eye on the door to Starbucks as he ate his shawarma, watching for Loki. He never saw him exit, but that didn't mean anything, when Loki could teleport. Having finished his meal, he crossed the street (illegally), and took a quick look inside the coffee shop. No Loki. Damn. Clint exited and started down the street, scanning the area around him. He was looking down an alley, when a voice spoke directly behind him.

"Are you stalking me for some reason, Agent Barton?"

Clint acted instinctively, spinning around and landing a sucker punch to Loki's jaw. The Trickster went down. Shit. Oh shit. People on the sidewalk gave them a cursory glance, then continued on their way, going around the downed Norse god, who was rubbing his jaw and glaring at the archer. There was a shrill shriek of anger and a half dozen young women jumped Clint, scratching at him, yanking at his hair, kicking and punching him. WTF?

"Loki, call off your bitches." At that point one of the young women kneed him in the groin and Clint joined Loki on the sidewalk.

"That was a rather poor choice of words, I think." Loki got to his feet chuckling. "My deepest appreciation fair maidens, for your timely assistance." He smiled and inclined his head.

The young women looked on the verge of passing out in a hormonal fueled ecstasy. "Our deepest pleasure is to serve you, my Lord." The young women knelt and Loki smiled like Lewis Carroll's Cheshire cat.

Clint managed to get to his feet, groaning. "I think I'm going to throw up." He shook his head as he watched Loki motion for his followers to rise. When did the world get so fucked up? The young women rose and Loki spoke a few words to them, then they left.

Loki gestured towards the departing young women. "My new army. Much better looking than the last one, would you not agree?"

"So you are out corrupting America's daughters now." Clint suppressed an urge to massage his sore genitals.

"There are also male recruits, just not as many. I found the whole concept odd at first, but I'm beginning to enjoy it."

Clint snorted. "Yeah, you would. So what's your shtik this time?"

"My stick? I haven't one. You confiscated my scepter when I attempted to take over this insignificant rock." Loki looked a bit confused.

"No, your shtik, not stick." Loki looked more confused. "S.h.t.i.k., it means a devious trick, mischief or prank used to get attention. Like making velociraptors run amok in Times Square, or animating park statues."

"Ah. Thank you for the clarification and my shtik is none of your business."

Clint crossed his arms. "Keeping an eye on you is my business. I don't need another bunch of skanky aliens invading my planet."

"Allow me to rest your fears on that point at least. I have no intention of bringing another alien army to Midgard. I've already tried that and I learn from my failures. The Chitauri were a mistake. A rather large one."

"Yeah. But I know you have to be up to something. It's what you do."

Loki held his arms up in surrender. "I can't put one over on you, Agent Barton. I do indeed have plans. This is Wednesday, and I am on my way to the New York Botanical Garden for Greenmarket. I enoy the cooking demonstrations and the chance to purchase locally grown produce and fresh bread. Felice is usually there with her wonderful rosemary bread. She will be terribly disappointed if I do not come." Loki smirked. "I know, not quite the villainy you were expecting of me, was it?"

Clint shook his head. Nope. Not even on his top 100 list.

"If I were you, Agent Barton, I would take Agent Romanoff out for a quiet meal, maybe even a romantic one. Might I suggest Balthazar. It's very Parisian and you don't get more romantic than the French. Human lives are so short, and it is a shame to waste yours obsessed with what I may or may not do in the near future. Just a suggestion."

Clint took out his iPhone to make a reservation, and call Natasha. When he looked up, Loki was gone. Nat, of course, expected a trap of some sort, but they had a very pleasant and blessedly uninterrupted meal. Which worried both of them. Loki had to be up to something.

Loki, upon his return from Greenmarket, spent his evening playing Sims 3. He downloaded a custom figure of Nick Fury in a maid's outfit, and set him to cleaning Stark Mansion. Life is good.