Hells Bells

Chapter One

This could not be happening.

Tony felt his rugged and manly goatee scrap across the living room carpet. This so could not be happening.

Composure intact, Loki the exiled Norse God of Mischief/Chaos/Evil (depending on his mood or something more nonchalant, like the day of the week) stood before him. Long fingers twitched uncomfortably at the sides of his gold and green armour. Was it nerves? Fear of rejection? Or just another insidious ploy to win round Antony Edward Stark? Well it was Loki, so it was hard to tell.

It was Loki after all…

Perhaps Tony was coming round to the idea. It wasn't like he was venomously opposed; he was just well Tony Stark and pre-occupied with being Tony Stark.

"I see you've finally managed to close your mouth and yet I so often prefer it open," Loki purred, slipping into seductive mode. Soft, supple lips curled into a wicked curve. Magnetic gaze fixated on the mortal. It took Tony barely a few seconds to recognise he was being mentally undressed. So of course he crumped. He was Tony Stark after all.

"Okay, sure. I mean, I can hardly say no. Especially not that that pout anyway," Tony sighed deeply and stroked his stubble. For a moment he could have sworn Loki was genuinely smiling, must have been his imagination. The trickster was still pretty guarded. Tony figured centuries of self-deception must have taken their toll. Six months with the irresistible Tony Stark, probably not long enough to undo the metaphorical damage.

Better get this over with.

His gaze slide down Loki's right side, and hovered just above the kneecap. There Tony observed the tiny creature properly. Nothing but skin and bones wrapped around her father's leg. She bore an untameable, frizzy mane of black gilding over her shoulders and two oversized emerald eyes peered out from their sunken hollows, upwards and straight back at Tony Stark. She was the spitting image of her father, had to give her that.

"Hey there Hela, welcome to your new home, you can even call me Uncle Tony, if you'd like, okay?" Tony said, praying his expression was one that eructated happiness and joy.

He was met with complete silence. Hela dipped her chin and drove her tiny fingers deeper into her father's leg. She then turned and buried her face into the back of his knee. There she whimpered timidly.

"Hela, Uncle Tony said hello, won't you say hello back? I'm sure that would be very nice, wouldn't it?" Loki adopted an unusual calm, soothing tone.

"No," came the muffled response, followed by another low whimper.

Loki sank to his knees and embraced his daughter. Tony watched in almost wonder as the little twig of a girl clasped her arms and legs tight around her father's torso, barely filling her father's clutches. Loki raised himself smoothly and swiftly departed. That must be father mode. Personally Tony preferred kinky mode, still it sure was a step up from murderous-psychopathic-diva mode.

It was probably time for a drink.

"Hela is just tired," Loki announced upon his return. "It's been a long journey for her. And shy, Hela has always been shy," He paused, almost uncertain.

"Hey no worries," Tony took a swing of whiskey.

"Are you quite certain about this? I am aware I didn't give you much time to prepare," Loki spoke in an inaudible whisper. "I can understand if you would prefer not having a child occupy your home. My child no less…" Loki chuckled cynically. "My children are monsters, after all,"

"Gimme me some credit," Tony smirked from ear to ear as he filled a glass for Loki. "Hela is hardly the Hulk, besides me and Bruce get along famously! How much trouble could one small girl be? I bet I hardly notice her,"

That seemed to reassure Loki, who accepted the drink that was offer him and drained the contents. "I suppose this means I owe you…"

"Oh boy do you owe me!"

Loki slithered forwards until the two men were upon each other. "I can think of many ways to repay my debt,"

"Do any of them involve me wearing your helmet?" Tony waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tony mentally noted that even joking about wearing Loki's helmet was a mood killer. Geez the guy was so possessive. And why did Tony Stark, the invincible Iron Man have the feeling he had just met his match?

And his match was eight years old.