"Are we there yet."
Clint gritted his teeth. Apparently being under Loki's magical influence did nothing to prevent him from getting annoyed by him.
"No sir, as I've been saying for the past hour, we still have a few miles to go."
Loki laid in the back of the truck, looking a lot more relaxed than before. Knowing that the people you're with will attend to your every whim and even sacrifice their lives for you probably helped. He and Selvig started talking some science mumbo-jumbo that Clint couldn't make heads or tails of. He heard one of them say "poligravity" which he could swear was not a real word.
After a while, even the science talk died down, and Clint turned on the police scanner in a desperate attempt to keep everyone from getting bored. When the scanner reported a brutal triple murder however, Clint heard Loki snicker (do gods even snicker?) and decided to turn it off before his new boss could creep him out any further.
There were six more miles to go when Loki demanded that they sing him a song. Despite his codename being of a bird, Clint couldn't sing for his life and by the look on Selvig's face, neither could he. Though, Clint thought, in his defense, hawks are not songbirds. In the end, they settled on singing the only songs they knew, the birthday song, and Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.
Though it was probably due to their lack of harmony and discordant tunes, but Loki looked distinctly grim after the final line of "Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer (reindeer!) you'll go down in his-to-ry! (like Napoleon!)"
The last two miles lapsed back into an awkward silence until they reached what looked like an abandoned factory or military base. Dr. Selvig picked up the silver briefcase containing the tesseract and took it inside. Loki picked himself off the truck to go in as well, and Clint was about to follow when his stomach growled. Oh, right. As if on cue, Loki poked his head out of the entrance.
"Barton. Food. Now." Clint nodded. "Also more minions."
On his way to the nearest town, Clint wondered if he should be bothered that Loki referred to them as "minions", but his musing was cut short by a sudden thought, what do gods eat anyways?
He thought for a moment, and shrugged, McDonald's will have to do.