Thor had taken Loki back to Asgard, of course. The sceptre had made things far easier; the Doctor had suggested that with time and some additions, it may be able to be used in place of the broken Bifrost. Thor had several ideas about what his father might do in order to punish Loki for his crimes. However, he didn't quite expect to be here, watching a re-enactment of the scene he had once been on the other side of.

Loki was standing in the Bifrost, staring at Odin helplessly. Thor stood to Odin's side, a little way behind him. Odin was talking, using the same words Thor once had directed at him.

'Loki, Odin's son, you have betrayed your realm and the realms of other, innocent people. You have taken innocent lives and started a war for your own personal gain. You are unworthy of your own upbringing.'

Loki was beyond words at this point. Thor was surprised. He usually had something, anything to say to spare himself from punishment.

'I take from you your power, in the name of my father, and his father before,' said Odin, pointing his own sceptre at Loki. Loki's eyes were watering, but no matter how much he pleaded, he knew he couldn't escape.

'And I hereby cast you out.'

The sceptre was directed at Loki and he was thrown backwards into the rift between Asgard and Midgard. Loki's sceptre fell to the ground as he vanished from their sight.

'Father,' began Thor, the connection to Midgard still humming with energy.

'Thor, you know your brother well,' said Odin sadly, 'Even if given the chance, he wouldn't redeem himself. He wouldn't want to. He would wallow on the Earth for the rest of his life rather than return to a life in Asgard in which he isn't king.'

'Father, if you truly raised us as equals,' said Thor, 'Give him the same chance as you yourself gave me.'

'Thor, if we hand him the sceptre we may never be able to move between the realms as we once could.'

'The Doctor will help us,' said Thor firmly, 'Everyone deserves a second chance.'

Odin picked up Loki's sceptre with a sigh, and where the blue sphere had once been bright, he whispered 'Let whomsoever hold this sceptre, if he be worthy, possess the power of Loki.'

He tossed the sceptre through the quickly-closing rift. Thor let out a breath that he didn't know he'd even been holding.

Odin sighed again. 'You will make a great king.'

'Mycroft told me about your little request, Steve,' said the Doctor as soon as Clint and Natasha had walked out of the Tardis doors, 'He said you wanted to go back to 1943, back to where you used to be.'

'If it's all the same to you, I'd just like to stay there for one evening, Doctor.'

'Well, when?'

Steve smiled. 'Eight o' clock, the Stork Club, Saturday.'

The Doctor looked directly at Steve with a touch of concern. 'Are you absolutely sure about this?'

Steve nodded, completely certain.

'Right then,' said the Doctor, 'Allons-y!' and the Tardis lurched forwards into space. Not even the Doctor really understood how the Tardis somehow managed to find the right Saturday in all the Saturdays that year had, but somehow it did.

They landed at 8.15 right outside the club. Well, the time machine couldn't be perfect now, could it?

Peggy was sitting at the bar, a shot untouched by her elbow on the counter. The bartender looked at her sympathetically, cleaning glasses as she waited for the man everyone knew wouldn't come.

Another person entered the club, but Peggy hardly noticed. She was too busy trying not to think about who wasn't there.

'Sorry I'm late,' said Steve from the other side of the room. The entire club turned to look between Peggy and the new arrival as she turned to look in astonishment at Steve. He was smiling, his head bent slightly down but his eyes trained firmly on Peggy.

'Tardis always does land just that little bit late,' said the Doctor, who was standing behind Steve, leaning against the door frame.

'I thought you were dead,' said Peggy, somewhat breathless.

'I was frozen,' said Steve, 'For nearly seventy years. Had a hell of a time when I woke up.'

'Then how can you be here?'

'That'd be him,' said Steve, indicating the Doctor who raised his hand, 'Time machine. Long story.'

Peggy looked astounded again before starting to laugh.

'You came back from the 21st Century just for a dance?'

'I came back for the right partner.'

One of the guys in the back corner of the club mimed vomiting into his beer glass, but the pair didn't pay him the slightest bit of attention.

With another laugh, Peggy raced to Steve's arms, and before long they were dancing comfortably, song after song. The Doctor sat at the bar, grinning, chatting with the local club members (who were confused as hell that there were two of these British folk in the club for some reason).

'Bar's closing,' called the bartender, rolling his eyes at the dancing couple.

Steve sighed as the music stopped.

'I have to go back.'

'Why?'

'The Avengers. It makes me sound like I'm being cruel, but it's complicated, Peggy; they need me back there. We fought another war in 2012, but the bad guys weren't completely beaten, just driven away. If it happens again, they need me there.'

'Take me with you.'

Steve's eyebrows shot up; he completely hadn't even considered the possibility. He turned to stare at the Doctor hopefully.

'Well,' he said, 'I really can't interfere with personal timelines and all that, and…'

He looked at the expression on their faces and rolled his eyes dramatically.

'Oh, alright,' said the Doctor, 'She can come.'

Steve and Peggy broke into identical grins, before following the Doctor out the door of the club and into the future.

Thor wasn't used to being a multidimensional waveform of pure celestial intent that could take on a somewhat physical, albeit celestial, form in order to assert his presence.

Then again, that wasn't to say he wasn't enjoying the experience. He'd been right when he'd said the Doctor would help him; he'd requested a journey back to Earth to fulfil his promise to the angel.

Thor had gathered Sif and "her" warriors, and asked them to help take over heaven. Needless to say, they'd been as confused as it was possible for an Asgardian to be; saving the celestial plane of a different realm wasn't usually done.

When Thor explained that not only had he spoken to one of the angels involved, but the angel was trying to stop a host of other angels from restarting the apocalypse, they were all too keen to prevent the destruction of this foreign realm they'd heard so much about.

The battle for heaven between Raphael and Castiel appeared to an observer as one might expect it would; a host of angels, wings spread and tearing through the sky, feathers falling, angels dying.

The Asgardian presence helped Castiel's followers greatly; they were unexpected, unaccounted for, and Raphael's army had absolutely no idea how to handle them. It was surprising that they could tell the difference between the rebel angels and those fighting for the apocalypse. Later, even they couldn't explain the difference; they just knew.

Something else in this battle was entirely unexpected; how quickly it was over. The end began when Thor raised his hammer and called what he didn't realise was celestial lightning from the skies of heaven to rain down on Raphael. As it turns out, you don't always need an angel blade to kill an angel. The sky lit up and temporarily blinded every angelic warrior as Raphael's celestial form was torn to shreds.

Thor disliked killing. What he disliked more were the people who made it necessary.

Raphael's forces, bound by rigid structure and discipline, crumbled into disorder and chaos without their leader, and Castiel's army (for want of a far, far better word) took control. The surviving angels submitted to Castiel, only to realise that he wasn't looking for their submission. He was looking for them to realise their own path and make their own decisions. Until then, Castiel would grudgingly attempt to issue instructions that were vague enough to allow the angels to interpret them in a way they saw fit.

Castiel refused to answer to the label of god, but the whispers through the clouds said just that; Castiel had won. Castiel may as well be god. Castiel has set the angels free.

Tony was lounging around the top floor of the Stark building. Bruce was sitting on the couch opposite him, looking far less at ease than Tony, though a lot happier in the presence of a friend after his long self-enforced exile from his own country. Steve and Peggy sat at another couch, chatting to their friends about whatever came to mind.

Pepper walked in with Coulson, and the six of them sat around the coffee table, laughing and joking. The injections Sherlock had formulated for Bruce, somehow during the whole escapade, had meant Bruce hadn't seen his "other guy" since the fighting, despite several people trying what seemed to be their hardest to work him up into a rage. He smiled at the knowledge, and made a mental note to call John and get him to thank Sherlock for him. He hadn't honestly had time.

Steve felt far more comfortable with someone else equally out of their time as himself. Somehow, it made him adapt all the more by setting an example for Peggy. Peggy was doing quite well herself though, especially once Pepper had got onto teaching her about the modern age.

Coulson couldn't have been happier. He was having coffee with his own personal hero, as well as some of the best people he'd ever had the good fortune to work with. Even if Tony was a bit of a bastard sometimes. After several of these coffee based meet-ups, he'd even managed to stop staring at Steve as though he were the most amazing thing in the room.

He'd also managed to convince Nick Fury to give him a few more London-based missions, so he could meet up with John and complain about Tony's ridiculous ego.

They laughed and joked over their coffee (and later wine) for hours. On this particular day though, as Steve and Peggy walked out of the Stark Industries building to return to their home, they were met by the Doctor, leaning on the Tardis door, hiding inconspicuously in an alleyway.

'Doctor,' said Steve, smiling and shaking his hand.

'Steve,' said the Doctor, 'Peggy.'

'What are you doing here?' asked Peggy.

'Well, I was in the neighbourhood, and I thought I'd visit.'

Steve raised an eyebrow. 'You don't usually do this, do you?'

'Not really,' admitted the Doctor, 'so… fancy a trip?'

'What?'

'One trip; anywhere you like, any time you like,' said the Doctor, 'All of time and space.'

Steve and Peggy stared at each other.

'Why us?' asked Steve.

'Well, you're already out of your time,' said the Doctor, 'and you seem to be good at it. Anyway. Coming?'

He snapped his fingers and the Tardis door opened.

Peggy smiled, and Steve nodded.

'Just the one trip,' said Steve, before walking into the Tardis.

The Doctor grinned and followed. The door closed, and the Tardis took off.

The Doctor had left Jack at Torchwood with a wave and told him in no uncertain terms not to get into any more trouble.

'You know me, Doctor,' said Jack with a grin, 'I never cause any trouble.'

The Doctor laughed, shook his head and stepped back into the Tardis. As it took off, Jack smiled, before walking back to his team at Torchwood to explain his continued leave of unexplained absence. Not that it would be the first time.

Every so often, when he needed a break, or just a quiet drink with someone he wouldn't feel the need to hit on, he'd catch the train to London, call John, and meet him, Lestrade and occasionally Sherlock (when he deigned to join them) for a beer.

Moriarty wasn't pleased at being back in the queue to eternity. He'd had fun, of course, but he could only replay his few moments of triumph to himself so many times before they became stale and boring.

He guessed he'd been in the line less than a week before he was approached by the King of Hell.

'What are you doing here?' asked Moriarty, 'Isn't there some sort of eternal punishment for your crimes to endure?'

'I've been banished from Earth for the duration of Loki's banishment, according to our new god,' said Crowley, spitting at the thought of Castiel's punishment.

'Sounds like you got off easy.'

'Knowing Loki, I'll be down here forever. Look,' said Crowley, 'I'm really not supposed to do this, but… want out?'

'Obviously,' said Moriarty, indicating the line as an extremely valid self-explanatory reason.

'The queue's getting a bit old,' said Crowley, 'Back to torture, I'm thinking. Thing is, the trouble with it last time was that some people enjoyed it.'

'It certainly would be less dull than this queue.'

'Well, that's where you come in. You could help with the tricky ones. You could probably tell someone's worst nightmares by the length of their pants.'

'Trousers.'

'Whatever, Brit. There's just one little catch.'

Moriarty rolled his eyes and groaned. 'Which is?'

'If I'm springing you out of hell, you'll have to play host to a demon or two on occasion. And you're doing the paperwork.'

Moriarty weighed up his options. Eternal damnation in an endless queue, or endless paperwork with the occasional spout of torture and demon-hosting?

He shook Crowley's hand and stepped out of the line, grinning. 'I'd be honoured.'

'Just so you know; the paperwork's backed up about two years.' added Crowley.

'You really are rather cruel, aren't you?' He meant it as a compliment.

Clint and Natasha were sitting on a quiet street in Washington in plain clothes, watching the clean-up from the frost giant invasion. There wasn't much left to be done; the rest was tidying rather than real clearing away. And heaven knew not a city on Earth, except perhaps Singapore, was ever going to be perfectly tidy.

'You two just don't know what to do with yourselves, do you?' asked Nick.

The pair of them turned to look at Nick, striding up to the park bench from behind them.

'The war's over, Director,' said Natasha, 'It's a bit… disconcerting.'

Nick sighed. 'Well, if you're that bored; there's a new mission for you.'

'Where?'

'UNIT.'

'And what's that exactly?' asked Clint.

'It's similar to Torchwood,' said Nick, 'But it's less United Kingdom-focused. There's a branch of it near New York, Captain Jack gave me someone called Martha Jones' contact details.'

'So, what, it's an organisation that does what?'

'Something very similar to SHIELD,' said Nick, 'But I'm thinking SHIELD, Torchwood, and UNIT might want to start working together if aliens keep getting involved in our world.'

Nick passed over the files to Clint, who took them eagerly and scanned through them.

'Think about it,' said Nick, 'Call me when you decide.'

He didn't even bother adding that of course they'd been assigned together for this mission.

It took all of Thor's willpower to finally admit he was ready for the throne.

The hall was decorated to perfection, everyone lined up well in advance to see Odin's son finally take the throne for his own. Odin could easily have remained king, but he was tired, old; he wanted a break. More than anything though, he wanted to show Thor exactly how much he had learnt, how much he had grown; it was time he took the place he'd been brought up to fill.

Thor entered the room slowly, his entrance far less dramatic than it was the last time he would have been handed the kingdom. He smiled at his soon-to-be subjects, hammer hanging by his side, not thrown in the air with triumph. He finally understood that this ceremony was an honour and a privilege; not a victory.

He walked up the hallway, smiling and acknowledging as many Asgardians as he was able to in the short time he had. Finally, he approached Odin, and knelt on the floor before him reverently.

Odin smiled, and began reciting the oaths. Thor swore to all of them as he had done before, though this time he understood what they meant.

'Thor, Odin's son, I now proclaim you king of Asgard.'

Thor turned to face the hall as Odin placed the crown onto his head. A wild cheer went up from the crowd as he smiled and finally raised his hammer, waving to the crowd.

His eyes drifted to the far distant end of the hall, where a blue police box stood inconspicuously behind the Asgardians. Apparently, no one else had noticed its presence. In front of it stood two people; the Doctor, who was nodding to the new king of Asgard, not changing out of his trench coat and converse outfit for the ceremony.

The other person standing there, beaming with pride, was Jane Foster.

Dean and Sam sat on the couch of 221B Baker Street, Castiel in the chair John usually used for writing his blog, and Sherlock in his own chair. John brought in tea and a single cup of coffee for Dean, a more recent addition to Sherlock and John's kitchen. Sam and Castiel had found they'd both rather enjoyed drinking tea. John still felt rather chuffed that he had managed to introduce the leading angel of heaven to the delight that was tea.

Quite suddenly, Castiel stood up. 'Loki has returned.'

Dean, Sam and Sherlock stood up immediately. 'What?' asked Sam, 'Where?'

'What the hell kind of Asgardian justice is letting him out?' asked Dean.

Castiel vanished.

'I hate it when he does that,' said Dean, sitting back down.

'He'll come back,' said John, 'He always seems to.'

Loki landed forcefully in a desert. He had no idea where he was. His helmet had fallen off and been crushed into the ground near him, judging by the pieces of metal lying scattered across the sand.

About ten seconds after he landed, his sceptre fell out of the sky and hit him squarely in the chest. He winced in agony. It clattered to the floor beside him.

Loki rolled over and took hold of the sceptre. Though it was positively brimming with power, he was somehow unable to access it. In an instant, the exact extent of his punishment hit him.

He'd been banished to Earth until he was worthy to return to Asgard. He counted himself lucky only in the regard that he, at least, was able to carry his sceptre around with him.

He stood up and brushed the sand off his cape as best he could. He needed to find some proper clothing that wasn't going to draw as much attention to him as if he were wearing an elephant costume.

Loki was wondering where the hell he was meant to be going next when, five feet away from him, the pesky angel that helped the Avengers out appeared directly in front of him.

'Leave,' said Castiel, 'Now.'

'You know, I wish I could,' said Loki, staring at Castiel with a sarcastic expression, 'But I can't. I've been banished. I can hardly walk, let alone transport myself back to Asgard or Jotunheim.

It was true. As Loki shifted his weight from foot to foot, it became clear that his entire body was pretty badly bruised. Castiel tilted his head to the side, gazing at Loki intently.

'You speak the truth.'

'Of course I'm speaking the truth, angel, else I'd have run you through with my scythe by now.'

'That wouldn't work.'

'Whyever not?'

'I am an angel,' said Castiel, 'The angel currently overseeing the running of heaven. I cannot be harmed with Earthly weapons, nor weapons of Asgard. I am unsure as to whether even an angel's blade would harm me now.'

Loki cursed quietly.

'I cannot return to Asgard without my power,' said Loki, almost mournfully, 'My life has turned to ruin.'

'You have the solution right in front of you,' said Castiel.

'What?' scoffed Loki, 'Do what Thor had to? "Become worthy of being Loki?" I'm what Odin made me.'

'Your father isn't here,' said Castiel, 'There are many who would offer to help.'

'Name one.'

'Am I not counted?'

Loki looked at Castiel in confusion.

'You're going to help the man you've been trying to defeat for weeks to become worthy of power?' asked Loki, 'You run this world as though you are its god. You don't have time for me.'

'Obviously I would have to delegate.'

'What, and have me spend time with the demon-fighting brothers? The consulting detective? Or the walking ego that is Tony Stark?'

'It would certainly teach you humility,' said Castiel.

Loki sighed. He was standing in a desert in the middle of god knows where. He couldn't teleport, he couldn't return to Asgard, he couldn't survive without the charity this angel was offering.

Loki's face contorted in complete mental agony. 'Fine,' he spat out.

Without knowing it, he had already taken his first, tiny step to his return.

When Castiel reappeared in 221B with Loki in tow, even Sherlock was surprised.

Within seconds, three guns were pointed at Loki.

'Cas, what the hell!' yelled Dean.

'Calm down, all of you,' said Castiel, pushing Loki's shoulder down until he sat on the couch, 'Thor has informed me of his punishment.'

'Which is what, exactly,' asked John, 'Freedom to run riot over Earth again?'

'What Thor was originally subjected to,' said Castiel, 'He is powerless until he learns humility and sympathy.'

Sam chuckled sarcastically.

'Oh, yeah, sure,' he said, 'and what, we're meant to be babysitting him?'

'I don't exactly have time to be looking after a renegade, powerless pagan god,' said Sherlock.

'None of us do,' said Sam.

Castiel stared each of them down in turn.

'You have the opportunity to save this man from eternal despair,' said Castiel, 'All of you.'

'Cas, you can't just leave us with this guy,' whined Dean.

'I'm sorry, everyone, I really am,' replied Cas, 'but I have a lot of work to do in heaven. If he misbehaves, call on me; I will answer any one of you. And before I go.'

'Yeah?'

'Make sure everyone has their turn looking after him.'

Castiel vanished, leaving a very angry Loki on the couch and a baffled set of Avengers in the living room at 221B.

'Well then, who wants more tea?' asked John.

'What do you mean, Loki's back?' asked Tony over the video conference. Bruce, Pepper and Coulson were sitting around the couch in the background of Tony's shot. In other frames, Jack stood at the desk of Torchwood Three, and Clint and Natasha were at a desk in UNIT, apparently taking a break in their continuing training on the alien threats that had been covered up for years.

'I mean he's here, powerless, and needs a babysitter,' said John, 'Tony, we're all going to have to share… hang on, where's Steve? Doesn't he come to those coffee things of yours?'

'Steve apparently took off with the alien and the blue box,' said Tony.

'What, and he didn't invite me?' asked Jack.

'Jack, you know why he doesn't invite you,' said Natasha.

'Still, Tash, it hurts,' Jack said, pretending to be deeply offended, 'So what do we do with Mr Mischief over there?'

Dean, Sam, Sherlock and John turned to look at Loki. He in turn looked up at them, only to see that every eye both on the screen and in the room was trained on him.

Loki sighed. 'Apparently I need your help to return to Asgard, or indeed any other realm. Why aren't Moriarty and Crowley getting this sort of punishment?'

'Well, Cas banished Crowley from Earth for however long your punishment lasts,' said Dean, 'and Moriarty's stuck down in hell doing paperwork.'

Loki raised his eyebrow. He clearly disagreed with the equality of their punishments.

'Do we get a choice in this?' asked Bruce.

'Apparently not,' said Sherlock.

There was an extremely tense pause.

'We'll have to take it in turns.' said Pepper.

'When did I ok this?' asked Tony, turning to Pepper.

'Na-uh,' said Jack, 'he's dangerous.'

'We can't exactly invite him into Stark Industries, Scotland Yard, UNIT, Torchwood, the British Government and SHIELD all at once,' said Clint, 'It's the worst possible solution.'

'It's not like he can do anything though,' said Natasha, surprising all of them, 'He's essentially helpless. Between Mycroft and Nick, he'll never be out of sight, even if he does try and escape.'

'Well, guys,' began John, 'are we going to do this? Pass him around the world, like an unwanted child?'

'Harsh, dude,' said Dean.

'I'll draw up a basic timetable,' said Bruce, 'Of course, all his international travel would have to be pretty carefully monitored.'

'Bruce, you sure about this?' asked John.

'I don't see how else to solve this,' said Bruce, 'Putting him in jail would be a waste of time; besides, he'd never get out of this that way.'

'I can't believe we're doing this,' said John.

'I'll get the Doctor onto this,' said Jack, 'there's no way he's not taking a turn with this one.'

'Who's starting?' asked John.

'You are,' said Bruce, smiling. Tony sighed in relief noticeably. 'As he's already there.'

Sherlock blanched.

'Doctor Banner…'

'You'll be first, Sherlock, and then pass him to Tony.'

'What!'

'Guys, there's no point in complaining,' said Natasha, 'we've all got to take our turn here.'

'Can I have a say in this?' asked Loki, and he was subjected to another group stare.

'Oh, do what you want,' he amended, spitting the words out in anger.

Dean and Sam weren't in London for very long, especially after Loki's arrival. The Doctor was apparently no longer in this time zone, which unfortunately meant they had to fly back to Washington to retrieve the Impala from its long-forgotten car park near the motel they'd stayed in.

However, thirty eight minutes into the flight, Dean was struck with a sudden memory of being stabbed in the thigh by the hottest chick he'd seen in months, and so burst out laughing. While his fear didn't evaporate completely, it certainly abated. Sam had raised his eyebrow and given him a funny look, but he hadn't said anything about it.

When they finally arrived at the Impala, there was a tyre clamp lying beside the back left wheel. It had been removed and carefully smashed into pieces. Beside it was a note.

'They won't notice if you've left within two hours – Castiel.'

Dean smiled and thanked god. Both Sam and Cas knew who he meant.

Upon opening the Impala and sliding into the passenger's seat, Sam reached into the glove box for a pair of sunglasses. Instead, he found a sealed envelope labelled "Winchester" with SHIELD's stamp on it.

'What the hell?' asked Dean, staring at it.

Sam shrugged and ripped it open. Out of it fell three cards and a piece of paper. Dean picked one up and looked at it carefully.

'"Thought these could help,' Sam read out from the note, 'But be warned; we'll be watching your spending habits for as long as you two stick with being hunters. Director Fury."'

'Dude,' said Dean, a huge grin on his face, 'This is an ID card. A REAL federal SHIELD agent ID card.'

'And, apparently, a credit card,' said Sam, holding up one of the other two cards so Dean could see it.

Dean looked at it and chuckled.

'Sam, remember when I told you I didn't think this job paid well?'

'Yeah?'

'Well, forget that,' said Dean. He smiled, slipping his ID card into his pocket, along with the credit card he quickly snatched out of Sam's hand. He turned the engine on, revved it, and drove the Impala out of the driveway.

Both of them figured; they really needed to pay Bobby a visit after all that.

Lestrade had walked into the door and instantly raised his gun to point it at Loki, who was sitting at the couch of 221B, scowling into his cup of tea.

'No, don't!' said John, standing up and moving towards Lestrade, hands outstretched.

Sherlock's expression clearly showed that he wouldn't mind if Lestrade shot the guy.

'John, what the HELL is he doing here?' asked Lestrade, not yet lowering his gun.

'I can explain.'

'I'd love to hear it.'

'It involves Thor, a time-travelling alien, and god.'

Lestrade blanched. 'Is he going to cause any trouble?' he asked, indicating a point between Sherlock and Loki. John got the general gist of his meaning.

'Not if I have anything to say about it.'

'What's the case then, Lestrade?' asked Sherlock, 'Something important, obviously. International, I'm guessing.'

Lestrade moved his hand to his forehead in exasperation. John looked at Lestrade in shock; he'd taken a guess at the case the moment those words left Sherlock's mouth.

'Sherlock, if you watched the news, you'd know this already. The pope's been murdered. You've been personally asked for; again. It was poison, but we don't have a motive at all. The man they've got in for questioning's about as devout as they get, and he's claiming innocence.'

Sherlock grinned over his tea. John sighed. Loki looked apprehensive.

'I'll take the case.'

And, finally, whenever the international politics were just right and the winds were blowing in the right direction, Nicolas Fury would step out of his office to find a woman staring intently at her Blackberry, standing beside a black car. And every time he saw it, no matter what city he was in, he would grin, shake his head, step inside, and for once look forward to coffee at Starbucks.

Author's Notes; Finished! I figured I'd upload it fairly quickly after the last one, so I didn't keep anyone waiting. :)

I'm going to take a brief break while I plan out the sequel, which I'm thinking of calling "Loki's Guide to Life on Earth."

And Grey G is right; seriously, if anyone is willing to draw any section of this, I will love them forever. Send me a link to it, either on or my Tumblr, kita42.

Hope you enjoyed; see you at the sequel, perhaps!

UPDATE: I've started Loki's Guide to Life on Earth, if you're interested in reading it.