Author's Note: Here's a bit of a lighter chapter to break up the "Loki epiphanies". I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy.

Special thanks to Britt30 for her really sweet review on the last chapter. It means a lot. Also thanks to any who favorited and followed.

REVIEWS ARE CHOCOLATE-COVERED COOKIE DOUGH BITES! Please leave a review, even something as simple as "this is good" or "this could be better." Favorites and Follows are fantastic as well!

Anyway, on with the story! Love you all!

Chapter Six

"We could always just stick him in a closet and put Mjolnir in front of it!" Clint said, gesturing wildly at the subject of contention.

"We are not sticking Loki in a closet, Clint." Steve said tiredly.

"But it would solve everything! It's not like he would suffocate…" Steve was not looking any more appreciative of the idea. "Alright, alright. Jeez, tough crowd."

Steve had known that the next home visit by Christy's social worker was coming up soon. They'd already had a visit a month ago and were due for another.

He just hadn't bargained on having the god of lies and mischief hanging about the next time Mrs. Darrow paid them a visit.

There had been no incidents, mostly because Loki and Christy actually got along rather well. But everybody, including Christy, knew it probably wouldn't be best to let slip that the man who had wreaked havoc on Manhattan was living in their Tower.

"My brother will stay with me and go nowhere near your floor until the inspection is complete, Steven." Thor promised, shooting Loki a significant glance.

Loki sighed in exasperation. "Why do you all insist on talking as though I am either not present or a child?"

"Because none of us exactly trust you." Tony said bluntly, ignoring Steve and Bruce's collective glares. "What, it's true?"

"When are you idiots going to get it in your thick, collective skulls that I cannot lie?"

"Sorry." Natasha said coolly. "Force of habit."

Steve cut off the ensuing argument before it could really get underway. "Look, this is all ridiculous, because you're not going to do anything, are you, Loki? You like Christy. And if my 'house' is deemed unfit, they will drag her away, sobbing and screaming…" And darn it if Steve didn't start to choke up just at the thought of that!

Loki snorted. "As if they would deem one of their national heroes an unfit guardian."

"I have to go by the rules as much as anybody else, Loki. I don't get a free pass just because I'm Captain America."

Loki looked a bit startled to hear that, and even Thor seemed somewhat nonplussed. Steve decided to refrain from explaining how the law was the great equalizer that everyone across society had to obey, or else society broke down. (And that was a whole other tangent he could get off on…).

But he would spare the Asgardians, not to mention his team, a lecture on truth, justice and the American Way— for now.

"So, is anybody actually going to be around on Sunday?" he questioned.

"Lab. Obviously." Tony said. "Covertly spying on you to make sure nothing goes horribly wrong."

Bruce nodded. "In the lab or on my floor. Maybe on the Common Floor."

Steve nodded, and then rolled his eyes at Tony. "Nothing will go wrong; I actually like Christy's social worker. She's a very sensible lady and cares a lot about Christy. She's also married." he added, as Natasha gave him a certain look.

The redhead shrugged. "Hey, worth a shot. I'll be out, anyway. I leave on a mission in another couple days."

"Me, too." Clint echoed. "I'm on leave, so I'm gonna just take off for a bit."

"To where, Birdman?" Tony asked, smirking. "Got a secret girlfriend somewhere?"

"None of your business, Stark. And for the record, no."

"Well, looks like a pretty low crowd for the weekend, then." Steve said, trying to sound cheerful. In reality, he was a bit upset. It would have been nice to have Clint's enthusiasm and Natasha's reassurance this weekend. These visits always seemed to bring out his worst insecurities.

Natasha, as though reading his thoughts, clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, don't worry. Like you said, you know the lady, she's great. What could possibly go wrong?"

If Christy had been there, she probably would have said that was a bad thing to say. But she was at school, so Steve merely nodded.

"You're right. What could possibly go wrong?"

Three nights later, Steve woke up to the feel of a small body crawling next to him in bed.

"Christy? What's wrong?" he muttered groggily. For once, he'd been having a fairly decent night's sleep.

"Daddy, can I sleep with you tonight?"

Steve sighed and rolled over. "Sure, baby. Did you have a bad dream?"

Christy buried her face in his chest and nodded.

"Was it about your mom?"

"Nuh-uh. It was about Sunday."

"Sunday? What happens…oh." Steve hugged his daughter close. "Baby, you don't need to worry about Sunday. Everything's gonna be fine. You know Mrs. Darrow."

"But what if…?"

"Hey, hey, remember what I said about 'if's'. They usually don't happen. They're the mix of all our worst fears."

"But sometimes 'if's' do happen." Christy said stubbornly.

She had a point. But now was not the time to discuss it. "I know, but right now, we're going to sleep, alright?"

Christy snuggled against him. "Lullaby?"

Steve smiled. "Always."

Everything was going wrong. And it had all started the minute Steve opened the door to find a short, thin woman with sharp glasses and an intimidating expression on her face.

He somehow managed to recover himself. "Excuse me, ma'am; and you would be…?"

The woman tried to draw herself up to match his considerable height. The effect was dubious. "I am Miss Pratt. Mrs. Darrow is out sick and was unable to come today, so the Agency asked me to come in her place. Shall we begin, Mr.…Rogers, was it?"

"Yes, ma'am." Steve said, fighting to keep his voice steady and not burst out laughing. Miss Pratt, indeed!

It's strange she's still a Miss…with a last name like Pratt; you'd think she'd want to get married as soon as possible.

He took a deep breath.

Easy, Rogers. You're in Italy again, holding back laughter at the cheesy dialogue and bad lyrics in those god-awful USO shows…just don't lose it…

"Would you like my daughter to be present?" he asked, inwardly pleased at how normal he sounded.

"She is actually not officially your daughter for two more months; and yes, I would like her to be present."

Steve bit back a dozen sarcastic replies. "Hey, Christy? Come out, baby!"

Christy came bounding out of her room, holding Natka. "Hi, Mrs. Olivia…" and stopped abruptly next to Steve. "You're not Mrs. Darrow."

"No, I am Miss Pratt. As I explained to your guardian, Mrs. Darrow is out sick today."

Christy looked horrified. And then angry. "He's my dad."

"In two months, that shall be official, but right now, he is your legal guardian. Now, shall we begin with the inspection?"

Steve nodded tightly as he felt Christy's hand slip into his.

This was going to be a long afternoon.

By the time Miss Pratt was ready to inspect the Common Floor, Steve had unconsciously slipped into what he and Clint jokingly called "boot camp behavior"—which basically involved speaking only when spoken to, ending every sentence with 'sir' or 'ma'am', and shutting up the rest of the time.

She had found something 'wrong' with every room on his floor, even things Mrs. Darrow had either said were perfectly fine, or else she'd never even mentioned. She'd even criticized the one pack of beer in his fridge! One pack! Thank God he'd convinced Tony to put locks on his liquor cabinet on the Common Floor.

Christy had taken to glaring at the woman subtly, and her enthusiasm level had plummeted to the depths. Steve had a sinking feeling that there would be a new face in Christy's punching bag ensemble before the next week was over.

"Now, Chrystal, I understand from your file that you had regular nightmares while in foster care. Have they improved since being here or grown worse?"

"Uh…gotten better."

"You're sure?" the woman asked, peering at Christy through her spiky spectacles.

"Yes, ma'am." Christy said, the faintest bit of testiness creeping into her voice.

"Have you had one recently?"

Christy gulped and looked up at Steve. He nodded encouragingly.

"Do not prompt the child, Mr. Rogers. Now, Chrystal, have you had a nightmare recently?"

Steve clenched his teeth to keep from glowering. Christy nodded. "On Thursday night, 'cause I was scared about today."

"And why were you frightened?"

Christy grabbed Steve's arm. "'Cause I don't wanna leave my daddy!"

That actually managed to shut Miss Pratt up, until they reached the Common Floor.

But when they reached the Common Floor, Steve felt like crawling under a rock and dragging Christy with him.

Thor and Loki stood in the kitchen, apparently making a snack. At least, Thor was making a snack.

"Loki, you must eat something…!"

"I told you, brother, I am not hungry!"

"A-hem!" Miss Pratt cleared her throat loudly, and the brothers spun around.

Loki quickly took stock of the situation. Judging from the amount of palpable fear on Steve's (not to mention Christy's) face, he judged that this woman could not possibly be the inspector that Steve had spoken of so highly. Something must have gone wrong. Thor was useless in these types of high-pressure situations…

By the Norns, it felt like that incident with the giants all over again!

Only this time, he couldn't lie.

He swallowed. Well, I guess it's all up to me…again.

Smiling in a way that had often made maidens swoon, despite his reputation, Loki turned to the woman. "And you must be the social worker Steve spoke about. So sorry to be in your way, we'll let you carry on with your inspection."

Steve and Thor were staring at him in a manner that screamed what are you doing? Even Christy looked a bit frightened.

But the woman…actually seemed taken in by the act. At least, she wasn't saying that he looked like the man that attacked Manhattan. And she was gazing at him with an expression like…mild rapture?

Oy…

"Well, I'm…only the replacement for the day, but yes, I am here on inspection, Mr…."

"Mr. Hiddleston. But you may call me Tom. My brother, Chris, works with Steve and we were over for the day. We'll get out of your hair now…"

It wasn't a lie. Chris Hemsworth was Thor's fake name, on his SHIELD ID. And he certainly worked with Steve.

"Oh, no, there's…really no need for that. I can finish the inspection with you and your brother present."

"How kind of you." Loki said. He felt the anti-lying magic in his veins pulse a bit, as a warning, he supposed. Apparently flattery was a bit too close to lying for the spell's comfort.

As the woman poked around the floor with her checklist, Thor inched over to Steve. "I am so sorry." he said, in a passable imitation of a whisper. "I did not realize…"

"Ordinarily, it might have been fine." Steve said lowly. "But, well…"

Thor nodded. "Are you well?"

"When this is over, I will be."

There were no major hitches as Miss Pratt pecked her way through the Common Floor like a now-slightly-less disgruntled hen. There was a small argument over the various alcoholic beverages at the bar, but she seemed pacified by the locks.

But the worst was yet to come.

"Mr. Rogers! Why is there a room with instruments of torture in it?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Steve almost burst out laughing as he went over to the sparring gym. "Well, ma'am, there are other people who live here besides me and Christy. And they work for a government organization that requires it's employees to be…proficient in a range of skills."

"I see. And is this the best environment for a child?"

Steve gulped. "She is never allowed in there without me at least being on this floor and she knows the rules of etiquette…"

"You allow a child to fight?" Miss Pratt began to scribble hastily on her notepad.

"Now, Miss Pratt…" Loki cut in smoothly. "Mr. Rogers has already stated that he has taken necessary precautions to ensure the child's safety. There has been no trouble before now, and I see no reason why any should be started now."

"Well…perhaps you're right…"

"I'm sure that I am." Loki said, putting all the persuasiveness he could muster into his voice.

The woman sighed. "Well, I suppose if Mrs. Darrow has not found any fault in things before now, I won't either. At any rate, Chrystal seems to be very comfortable and secure with you, Mr. Rogers. That should complete my inspection."

As Miss Pratt prepared to leave, she scribbled something hastily onto a scrap of paper and offered it to Loki. "Mr. Hiddleston…if you ever find yourself alone one night…"

Loki gave a little half-bow and took the paper, but very pointedly said nothing. He did not trust himself.

The door shut. There was silence for a good five seconds.

Then, Christy burst into tears.

"I hate her! She's mean! And she said you weren't my daddy! Why couldn't Mrs. Olivia come?"

Steve sighed; relief and anger and weariness all seeping through him. "I'm…sure she was just trying to be professional, baby."

Loki, meanwhile, looked at the scrap of paper in his hand. On it was scrawled a number and the phrase 'call me'"

With very deliberate movements, Loki walked over to the sink, tossed the paper in it, and flicked the switch for the garbage disposal.

"Well," Thor said slowly. "I suppose that could have gone worse."

"So, anyway, I called Mrs. Darrow later. From the tone of her voice, she knew exactly who I was talking about and promised to straighten things out tomorrow. She's almost over her cold and should be back at work."

Everyone, minus Clint and Natasha, was gathered on the Common Floor that night, to hear the nerve-wracking tale of the day.

"I oughta ruin her…" Tony muttered. Pepper put a cautionary hand on his arm.

"Tony, we don't just ruin people we don't like. Not even if they deserve it…ugh! That odious woman makes me want to smack someone."

"Well, uh, if it could not be me; that would be great, thanks." Tony said.

Everyone rolled their eyes or groaned.

"Well, Loki…actually saved the day." Bruce said.

"Did I thank you enough?" Steve said, completely serious.

"Yes, you did." Loki said, just as serious, before smirking. "Several times. You also hugged me. Several times."

"'Cause Miss Pratt liked him." Christy said, making a disgusted face. "Gross!"

"Did she actually give you her number?" Steve asked. Loki nodded.

"Wait, the she-hag with a stick up her…butt, actually liked you?" Tony cried. "That's it; I'm done."

Loki smirked. "Because you cannot stand the thought of females being attracted to someone besides yourself?"

"I am not sure if that woman being attracted to you should count as a positive thing, brother." Thor said doubtfully.

"No, of course it isn't. Hence why I obliterated her phone number from existence."

"You did what?" Pepper asked suspiciously.

"He threw it in the garbage disposal." Christy explained.

Tony cracked up. "Okay; I get that this was pins and needles when it was actually happening, but this…this is actually turning out to be pretty hilarious. It would make a great comedy."

Steve sighed, as Christy laid her head on his lap. "Yeah…great comedy. With an appropriately happy ending. Thank God."

Unbeknownst to the residents of the Tower, a certain conversation was taking place.

"Well, Heimdall, it seems that these mortal social workers could rival even me at my most terrifying."

"Indeed, sire…"

Odin sighed. "Well, exile seems to be working for Loki. He's learning his lesson…but more than that, his mind is changing. He may be ready to return, sooner than I thought."

"It is quite possible, sire. Will you speak with him, when he returns?"

"I shall. We have…much to speak about. We both wounded each other. But, at any rate, it may be time soon for the Test we spoke of."

Heimdall merely nodded, a mysterious smile playing across his lips.

Yes, perhaps Midgard could redeem one son of Odin just as well as it had the other.

The "incident with the giants" Loki refers to references a hilarious Norse myth that involves Thor posing as a bride in order to get his stolen hammer back; at Loki's prompting. Really hilarious if you picture MCU Thor and Loki in that one.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for all those who have stuck with me thus far. Another chapter should be up soon.