Author's notes: Heck yes, here we are. And here we shall be, every Tuesday, until as such time that The Aggravation ends. Does anybody else remember Sven from chapter five? I almost didn't, but then... well.

lxvii.

Thor was understandably nervous about breakfast. Given the negative terms on which The Avengers and Loki had parted last night—and the fact that Loki had dumped a bucket of iced water on his head—the first meal of the day could prove to be an eventful one, to say the least.

Fortunately, what Thor feared would happen, and what actually happened, were two very different things. Breakfast passed rather quietly. Loki didn't even try to strangle his cat. The only thing that didn't please Thor was Tony and Clint's apparent delight with the bucket incident last night. They promptly took up their dishes and flanked Loki at the table. If it weren't for his previous interactions with Darcy, Loki would be completely at loss to find people who approved of mischief.

The verbal sparring began in seconds. Clint wisely bowed out, focusing more on recovering from his hangover, though he did occasionally interject. Tony nearly possessed the capacity to drink Thor under the table, so he wasn't treating his own hangover so delicately. Loki seemed massively entertained. That was something Thor hadn't expected, and he was rather glad about it.

Steve had gone out on a run first thing, and now he came in to join the others. The captain exchanged friendly greetings with Bruce, who was just leaving. Apparently the scientist had something planned with Frigga. Steve smiled in a friendly way at the cat as he sat down across from it. "Hey buddy," he said, putting out a hand to scratch it behind the ears.

"Puny mortals are not allowed to address me as 'buddy.' Oh!" Steve's fingers massaged the base of the cat's ears, and the gentle action startled a happy trill from the feline. It turned wide eyes on the human. "You should definitely keep doing that." Steve moved his fingers from the cat's ears to under its chin, and the cat's eyes closed in a blissful manner. "Ah, that's nice. Loki never pets me."

Loki abruptly fell silent. Considering how adept he was at conversation, it was strange to see him cut off so sharply. Tony and Clint were both surprised, and Thor's brow furrowed with concern. Was something wrong? Surely the cat had prompted this, but the look on Loki's face was neither exasperated nor offended. In fact, Thor couldn't even identify the expression upon his brother's face now.

Loki resumed his talk right away, however, and in the maelstrom of activity that were meals on Asgard, Thor never got the chance to ask him what was on his mind. He left the table before everyone else. The cat didn't go with him.

.

After breakfast, Loki went in search of the cat. He had a theory involving indigenous Midgardian plants that were extremely lethal, but the cat hadn't turned up in any of its usual places. The prince stopped mid-step as he caught a glimpse of the feline through an open set of double doors. He quickly backed out of view as he saw that it wasn't alone.

The cat was with Steve Rogers, the soldier. The man had a large sketchpad in front of him, his pencil trying to catch the lights and shadows of Asgard's greatest city. He was keenly focused, yet every once in a while his hand moved away from the sketchpad to stroke the cat. The cat had assumed what Darcy referred to as "meatloaf position," with its furry chin resting on Steve's leg.

It looked… content. Loki could hear a soft, humming noise in his mind; something like a purr. The sorcerer frowned, not sure why his chest felt tight all of a sudden. He turned away, removing the cat and mortal from his sight, and left the hall without being noticed.

lxviii.

"Um, Loki?" Bruce found the Trickster in question working at the bizarre setup that qualified as a laboratory on Asgard. "Your cat decided to, ah, use my head as a perch some time ago, and now I can't get him off…"

"I swear, if one more imbecile calls me your cat, there will be blood."

"Oh, so that's where it went," Loki remarked, not seeming surprised by the cat's chosen location. He nodded at something, and as he gestured, half the contents sprawled across the table disappeared. "I was just about to start looking for it. Dr. Banner, if you would please stand here for a moment."

"Alright." Bruce gave the prince a slightly bemused look. "Is this going to get your cat off my head."

"Most assuredly." Loki went over to a large chest and unlocked it, crouching as he rummaged through its contents.

"I have a really great feeling about this."

"Can't you just lift him off?" Bruce asked. His eyes widened as Loki straightened back up, and he took a half-step back. "Is that a bazooka?"

BOOM!

Loki calmly set the weapon aside and waved the smoke from the air. The cat picked its way out of the crater that had been blown into the opposing wall, naturally unscathed. Bruce was sitting on the floor, clearly suffering from shock.

"Not really," Loki said in answer to Bruce's question. "The weapon is a rather specific biological bomb—it only damages feline DNA. It least, it should." He glared down at the cat. "You haven't made a habit of being particularly helpful."

Bruce twitching. And… turning green? Loki's head tilted curiously. The cat crept forward. "I think this is a better color for the mortal. Why didn't he turn green sooner."

Loki paled, and out of habit chuckled nervously as he slowly backed away. "Cat," he hissed between his teeth, "Banner's the one with the stretching trousers."

"Ohhh. Sucks to be you, Frost Midget."

lxix.

"So, Thor never told you about the Hulk, huh?" Tony snickered as he shook his head. Once he had gotten past his initial concern for Loki's wellbeing—he had never seen as Asgardian injured in the past—the billionaire had gained an air of great amusement. "Man, he sure did a number on you."

Loki quirked an eyebrow before remembering it was the one that had been split. "How anyone on Midgard feels safe with mortals like you around is beyond me." The Trickster grimaced as one of his ribs shifted again, and Loki could feel Sven the healer giving him The Look. Immediately he stilled. It was never wise to antagonize healers, and Sven was an irritable fellow to begin with.

Sven crushed another healing stone—rather aggressively, Loki noticed. How had this man joined the ranks of Asgard's elite healers? He looked like he belonged in one of Midgard's axe murderer movies. Tony was obviously thinking the same thing, working to keep his distance from the surly Asgardian. "Oh, Earth is plenty safe. Though I'll admit that it took us a while to get any traction. Having Bruce on board put a lot of people on edge."

"Given his nature, I'm not surprised. You all behave like such infants as it is, adding a chaotic element like that to the mixture surely had explosive consequences." Sven glared at Loki for the movement his speaking had caused, and Loki glared back. The axe murderer expression intensified. While Sven's back was to him, Tony knifed a hand across the front of his throat while shaking his head, indicating that Loki should really stop.

"'Explosive' is a good way to describe it," he said lightly as Sven looked his way. The human rocked on his heels. "How long are you going to be here, anyway? Thought Asgardians were invincible or something."

"The fact that we are practically immortal doesn't mean we actually are. And biologically speaking, I'm not Asgardian."

Sven brushed the last grains of healing stone from his palms, and nodded curtly to Loki. "You're done, Highness."

"My thanks," Loki said courteously. The prince deliberately paced himself as he exited. He refused to scurry away from anyone's presence. Tony sauntered alongside, though he had to move more quickly to keep up with Loki's long stride. "Now, Stark, it's become rather obvious that you have a query for me."

"What's the Casket of Ancient Winters?" Loki looked down at him, a single eyebrow arching upward, and Tony shrugged. "I've heard it mentioned a few times. Some sort of weapon, right?"

"Among other things."

"Self-sustaining?"

Loki paused then, his lips pursing thoughtfully. "I would assume so." A slow grin spread across the Trickster's face, and he looked down at Tony again. "Why don't we go find out for ourselves? The security for the weapons vault is laughable—that is, if you're the greatest sorcerer in Asgard's history."

"Don't spare anything for the self-flattery, do you?"

Loki turned sharply at the familiar voice within his skull. He caught a glimpse of the green tip of the cat's tail as it left the hallway for another. He could hear Steve call a hello to it from down the hall. The Asgardian frowned, and it was only as Tony waved a hand in front of his face that he realized he had missed what the man had been saying. He blinked, bringing his mind back into focus.

"Say again, Stark?"

Tony rolled his eyes. Loki had noticed the human did this a lot when he was exasperation. "This Casket. From what I've heard, it's a bit like the Tesseract."

"Tesseract?" Loki repeated. His eyebrows lifted briefly, and he resumed walking. Tony skipped a couple of times to catch up. "So you have it. Perhaps there are indeed some similarities."

"Only one way to find out, right?" Tony seemed to be almost gleeful as he contemplated breaking into Odin's weapons vault. If Loki had been a little uncertain before, now he knew that he liked Tony Stark. He was a man whose mind could challenge Loki's own, and he wasted no times on being morose. His wit was sharper than a blade's edge.

Plus he was amusingly short, and Loki still didn't know why it pleased him so.

lxx.

"Lífdagar," Loki whispered. He smiled broadly as the crystal cupped in his palms finally came to life, and blue light bathed the walls and Loki's face before settling down to a gentler glow that was still sharp. He took the crystal and fit it into its place at the base of his new spear's two blades.

Nothing was quite so satisfying as finally completing a project. Now if he could just get the cat away from Captain Rogers, he would be able to test this. He wrapped his fingers around the long, metallic handle, feeling the weight.

"Hey Loki, have you seen—"

Loki spun on reflex, and Clint didn't stop himself in time. He blinked as the tip of Loki's spear poked just through his shirt.

"—Natasha," he finished. Loki stared as black crept up the archer's neck and turned his eyes an unnaturally vibrant shade of blue. Clint's shoulders seemed to straighten, not that he had been slouching, and he assumed an at-ease position.

The sorcerer laughed nervously, the fingers of his empty hand drumming the side of his leg. "Ah. Well."