It had been a long day at SHIELD Headquarters and Coulson was exhausted when he fell into bed late that evening. It was a little known fact that he hated debriefing the Avengers as much as they hated the debriefings and having Stark be the last of them to debrief had soured whatever good mood he had earlier that day.

At least Loki and Doctor Doom weren't trying to sink New York again (or in Loki's case, make it a beach resort complete with exotic women in grass skirts). That had to be something in his favour.

It also helped that he didn't get woken up by emergency calls during the night and only got up to the smell of waffles in the morning.

Wait. Waffles?

Coulson delayed his trip to the kitchen by taking a shower first. He refused to confront a Norse god with a waffle iron while in his blue-striped pajamas.

When he finally dressed and walked out to his apartment kitchen, he was given an eyeful of Loki in a green silk shirt, black slacks, and a frilly pink apron that Coulson swore he'd never seen before in his life. He was not impressed.

What he was impressed by was the pile of waffles drizzled with syrup and topped with strawberries and powdered sugar on the table. And since when did coffee smell that good? His stomach won over his curiosity about why Loki was in his kitchen and he made a beeline for the food.

"No 'thank you' for your dad's hard work?"

"Are you talking about the waffle iron or you?" Coulson probably shouldn't have said that, but he couldn't help it. Being snarky ran in the family.

As revenge, Loki snatched the juiciest of the strawberries from his plate.

"Ungrateful boy. See if I ever come around to make waffles for you again."

Coulson took a sip of coffee calmly, dismissing the threat as Loki took a seat opposite of him with a much larger plate of waffles drizzled in chocolate sauce.

"So, what makes this a waffle occasion, dad?" It wasn't often Coulson had the luxury of calling Loki that, but it seemed wrong to call him anything else while they were having their odd family breakfast. Besides, Loki made him waffles and good waffles at that, he deserved some respect.

"I've noticed you have favourites in SHIELD."

Coulson looked up and frowned. He did not like where this was going. Did Loki want some top secret information? Was there any drug in the waffles that he should be aware of? He wouldn't put it past his insane father to drug powdered sugar. Actually, it sounded exactly like something he'd do.

"So who do you prefer? The archer or the woman with the pepper spray?"

Oh gods, Coulson suddenly wished that he had to report to work before noon. He did not want to have this conversation again. The last time this happened, Loki had been trying to convince him that his boss, Nick Fury was "not a bad choice for a partner."

"All our field agents are equipped with pepper spray," Coulson replied evasively, digging into the waffles with renewed interest.

"You know which one I'm talking about, the one with the red hair, the Russian."

Coulson decided to have a forkful of fluffy, golden waffles instead of answering.

"Oh? Do you like both, then?"

The waffles went down the wrong way. Coulson quickly took large sips of his hot, hot coffee. It burned, but it did the job.

"I would not be opposed to such a relationship, Phillip, but I don't think it is legal here on Midgard to keep two spouses."

The coffee nearly came out of his nose. Sometimes it just wasn't worth waking up, even for godly golden waffles.