A/N: Busy, crazy holiday week last week-hope all who celebrate Thanksgiving didn't overdose on turkey! Here's a short chapter, just silly fluff for Thor and Loki. The next chapter will be a bit more serious… Reviews are deeply appreciated, btw.

Loki had hidden himself in the hallway leading to the kitchen, and now he stood still, listening to Tony and Thor's conversation. He grit his teeth as he heard Tony tick off a series of instructions, all of which seemed to serve only to highlight Loki's weaknesses—how dare Loki's pathetic condition be so casually revealed to his colossal oaf of a brother, referring to him as if he were a child or an invalid? Well, that's Tony-fucking-Stark for you, what a fucking rotter—and he wearily rolled his eyes to hear Thor's words of compassion.

He stepped forward, vacillating between storming into the kitchen to make a scene—exhausting, but extremely satisfying—or heading back to the bedroom to sulk, when he heard Thor tell Tony of Loki's part in foiling the brewing plan for another attack on Midgard.

He stopped cold.

Shit. He never meant for Tony to know about that. He'd done the work he'd promised to do for Thor because it sounded like a challenging distraction, not because he had any inkling that there might be some sort of redemptive aspect to it. Redemption? Fuck redemption—he'd already said he was sorry. After all, upon discovering the insurgent's plot, he could just as easily have turned things in another direction, could have thrown his lot in with the Trondarians and had a merry old time creating another massive spree of destruction with himself as the epicenter.

But, he'd had no stomach for that. There was no point. He'd learned that defeat was inevitable in any enterprise he might choose to undertake, and he knew Odin would put an end to him once and for all if he dared violate the terms of his parole.

Of course, that could have been a plus. Gods knew he'd thought of taking his own life more than once since being banished, and that would have certainly been a fool-proof way to go about it, but he'd lost any real passion for meeting his demise at this point. Anyway, he'd be damned if he'd allow Odin the pleasure of being the one to snuff him out. It was much more fun to frustrate the old bastard with his continued existence, no matter how miserable and hopeless it might become.

Which meant Midgard was important, being the only realm offering him any sort of real peace and comfort, now that Asgard was lost to him; he really didn't want the curious planet destroyed.

And... there was that tiresome little itch that, infuriatingly, kept niggling away at him. Hope, he supposed it was called. And, curiosity. The remote chance that there might be something genuine happening between him and Tony Stark—something he'd never had before—and it was far too intriguing a possibility to risk missing out on. So much so that the idea of Stark being wounded in battle no longer amused him; the thought of him being killed turned his stomach.

And, he had no intention of letting Stark know that, either.

He stood with his back against the wall, his arms wrapped around himself, listening until he heard Tony depart. Then, Thor's heavy footsteps were heading toward him and Loki remained secluded until the thunder god had just passed him, and then he said, "Thor."

Thor whirled in surprise, but once he saw who it was, a huge grin crossed his face. "Brother!" he cried, grabbing Loki in one of his bone-crushing hugs, actually lifting the slighter man off the floor.

"Put me down, you imbecile!" Loki spat. Thor complied, and Loki irritably straightened his sweater and gave Thor a disgusted scowl. "Nice to see you, too."

"How are you faring?" Thor asked, putting one hand on Loki's shoulder and assessing him with a glance.

"I am perfectly well. In fact, there's no point in your staying here today. It was very kind of you to heed Stark's request to see after me, but I assure you, the man's concern is unwarranted. Perhaps we could have a cup of coffee, and then you can be on your way. I'm sure you have far more pressing matters to attend to than playing nursemaid to me."

Thor laughed heartily. "Friend Starkson warned me you would be obstinate. Fear not, brother, for you are blessed with the pleasure of my company for the entire day. And, I would suggest you take full advantage of it as, yes, I am quite busy and may not have another opportunity to see you for some time. But for today, I am all yours." He cupped Loki's cheek in one hand and gazed at him fondly.

But then, he dropped his hand as a serious expression came over him, and he took a deep breath. "We have always spoken in foolish jests and mockery, but now I speak to you from the heart. I am so proud of you, Loki. Your bravery in battle, the way you kept your word—I can see the tremendous efforts you've made in healing your wounded mind. Perhaps it is good that we've spent so much time apart; but, I sorely miss having a brother, and now I only wish to mend the rift between us. I hope that is something you wish as well. Is it?"

A kind of blackness passed in front of Loki's eyes, and his tongue was poised to reel off a scathingly bitter diatribe about every slight and inequity he'd suffered growing up in Thor's shadow. But then, lessons he'd been taught during therapy came to him and soothed away the blackness like balm. He just sighed raggedly. "Gods, Thor—I don't even know if that's possible." He pursed his lips, and they were both silent for a moment. Then, Loki said softly, "But, as I clearly have no other choice... for today at least, I will try." He looked into Thor's worried eyes and gave a half-smile. "Come, brother—have coffee with me."

Thor gave him another giant grin and clapped him enthusiastically on his shoulder, almost knocking him off balance. "Coffee would be most welcome, but we shall have to consume more than that! I've been instructed to make sure you take in some nourishment. I understand Tony's larder contains a number of foodstuffs, surely we can find one pleasing to your finicky palate."

Loki shrugged as they began walking toward the kitchen side by side. "I've yet to take breakfast here on Midgard—I'm quite open to suggestions. What do you like?"

"I'm fond of something called 'Pop-Tarts.' They are easy to prepare, requiring only an automatic heating iron called a toaster." Once in the kitchen, they found the coffee maker just finishing a brew cycle—Tony had set it up with a timer the night before— and while Loki poured the coffee into large mugs, Thor went to investigate Tony's pantry, where he found a veritable treasure trove of Pop-Tarts. He chose a box of his favorite flavor, chocolate, and brought it over to the toaster. Loki looked on with interest.

Thor took out a package and held it up while speaking like a school teacher instructing a rather slow student. "Now, you simply remove the pastry from this paper shell, like so... and drop one into each of these slots." Thor gave Loki a smug grin and Loki nodded approvingly.

"I see. And, the heating takes place automatically, you say?"

Thor frowned. "Uh—no. I believe it requires the manipulation of some gizmo or other. Let's see... Oh, yes. One simply pushes this lever in a downward direction, and—"

Loki couldn't resist. Something about Thor's imperious tone took Loki back to being eight years old and, without thinking, he sent a tiny spell to the toaster.

Which immediately exploded into a small, counter-top inferno.

"Whoa!" Thor shouted, stumbling backwards. "Loki, what did you do?"

Loki looked horrified. "I-I didn't mean to—"

"Help me!" Thor threw a tea towel over the flames, but it was quickly engulfed. Loki grabbed a fire extinguisher, pulled the pin, and sprayed the fire until it was completely out. The two men stood panting, looking at the smoking, blackened remains of the toaster, breathing in the stink of melted rubber and charred chocolate pastry.

Thor turned to stare at Loki. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded in an aggrieved tone.

Loki gave a huff of self-disgust. "Would that I knew, brother. This is exactly what Stark spoke to you about. I only intended to startle you with a little spark as a joke, and look what happened. You can see why I am unable to leave this place and make my way elsewhere in the world. If my seidr were to accidentally harm another being, Odin would have my head in an instant, no questions asked."

Thor studied Loki's face; his eyes were wide, his forehead furrowed, and his mouth was quirked the way it used to when, as a child, Loki was about to cry. Thor had a long history of listening to his brother talk his way out of trouble by spinning the most believable of lies, but he'd also learned to sense when he was telling the truth, and now was such a moment. His irritation faded and he shook his head slightly. "You are truly unable to control it?"

"I... I don't know. I'm afraid to try. I have no desire to repay the man who has been so kind to me by burning down his house, or... demagnetizing all his credit cards, or whatever evil might befall him due to my ineptness."

Thor nodded sympathetically and spoke in a gentle tone. "Let's get this cleaned up." They found cleaning supplies and worked together until the counter was more or less spotless. "Where'd you learn to use that fire-defeating device?" Thor suddenly asked in an admiring tone.

For the first time since Thor's arrival, Loki chuckled. "Oh... I watched a televised program about fire safety yesterday, and it included a lesson on using a fire extinguisher. It also talked about other safety measures, such as what to do if one finds oneself engulfed in flames. 'Stop, drop, and roll,'" Loki recited. "I never thought about it before, but it seemed well to pay attention, given the state of my magic. How right I was..." he muttered as an afterthought.

Thor grinned as he made a show of dropping the remains of the toaster into a garbage bag, holding it by it's electric cord as if it were a dripping carcass. "Do you suppose a new toaster can be had for less than a grand?"

"A grand what?"

"Um... I believe it's a reference to Midgardian currency."

"Oh. I have no idea. But, don't concern yourself, it was my fault. I'll make it right with Stark somehow." Loki smiled to himself—he was sure he could find an acceptable form of compensation to offer Tony. "What are we to do about breakfast now, though?"

"Oh, Pop-Tarts are very good unheated as well." Thor opened another package and offered one to Loki. They stood together, drinking coffee and munching, each lost in fond memories of long-ago escapades they'd gotten into as youngsters.