Disclaimer: I own neither Marvel's The Avengers nor any of its respective characters. This was written for fun and to improve my own writing skills.

Character(s): Loki, the Avengers (yes…all of them…well, except Thor)

Rating: T

Prompt: None

Word Count: 3,287

Setting: Stark Tower

Suggested Song: Comeback – Redlight King (Does anyone else find this to be the perfect Loki song?)

Notes: This was fun to write xD I feel they were much more into character here than before and Fury is just so much fun to write. I do want to address a couple of things: firstly, this story wasn't meant to become more than a one shot, so if it seems off in writing style to other things I do, that's why. This is the first long thing I've written and published, so it's strange to tie everything in together. Secondly, I have another in the works, which I believe I discussed last chapter? I've completed the prologue and once I have up to chapter two written (as well as a title, I suck at those) I'll get it up. It is much more mature than this one. Other than that, enjoy a nice, chatty chapter, as well as a moving along plot.

"He said two weeks. It's been one." Natasha's voice was cool when she spoke, though her words held nothing of the sharpness that should have been there.

"We all know that threat was empty. Even with his powers and soon to be two weeks of rest, he isn't strong enough to mount an attack on us in our own home." Bruce, too, mimicked her cool tone, each word calm and concise. It was clear that neither of them had taken Loki's threat at seriously as they had pretended to.

Loki lingered in the shadows, listening to the meeting that was going on between the Avengers and their master, Nick Fury. He had sensed the Director of S.H.E.I.L.D come in about fifteen minutes earlier and deduced that they were unwilling to leave him in the tower alone. It pleased the god greatly that they recognized his danger, even if they had seen through his bluff. It wouldn't matter in the end, though, because he would escape from this hellhole of a tower and flee. He would get off of Midgard and eventually, he would find his way back to Asgard, where he belonged. It seemed that they were going to let him go without a fuss provided that he allow them to track his movements so long as he was on Midgard. I think not. The god thought coldly, listening now as Stark spat out an opinion that was as meaningless and foolish as the man himself was. S.H.I.E.L.D and their lapdogs seemed to think that he was their personal pet to be paraded about, and oh how wrong they were. He pitied the next fool that decided to lay a hand upon his flesh without his invitation first.

"Empty or not, we cannot allow him out onto the public without some way to control him." Fury's voice cut across Stark once again. "If by some chance he does have another army lying in wait, we have to have some sort of leverage over that. And even if he doesn't, I want that fucker tracked. I don't tr—"

Loki's fluid chuckle broke the next word into splinters as he all but melted from the darkness he'd been eavesdropping in. The sudden silence that befell the room was as sweet as sugar to him. "Director, you wound me." The tall god came to stand next to Fury's chair, smiling most serenely, splaying a spider-like hand over his chest in mock pain.

"Yeah, I'd sure as hell like to wound you. How long have you been lurking?"

"Oh, long enough. I'm flattered you find me a threat enough to want to track me like some shark in the ocean, but I assure you, Director, my intentions go so far as to get off this wretched realm and little more than that." A lazy grin traced his lips as the lanky creature settled in a chair next to Steve Rogers, who shifted for a second before straightening his shoulders pointedly. The grin widened wickedly. Loki leaned forward in the chair, verdant eyes twinkling evilly. Outside, thunder shook the windows, New York caught in a summer storm. "Tell me, Director, how do you plan on getting this tracking device into me? You should know by now that if I do not want to be caught, you will not get your hands on me."

"Oh, you wanna bet?" Tony growled, reaching out to grab Loki's arm – only to have his hand pass through with a hissing sort of noise. The clone vanished as the real Loki reappeared behind Fury's chair.

The display was enough to give the Avengers pause. In the past week, the god had been keeping mostly to himself but when he did emerge from his room, it was generally to pull some sort of trick on whichever unlucky superhero was around at the time. All of them – except for Bruce, whom Loki was very willing to give his full space – had suffered some sort of small prank. The Trickster's games were harmless and whatever he took, hid, or magicked generally was returned, reappeared, or went back to normal within a few hours. It was merely a reminder to the team that he was there and was not exactly the obedient pup they seemed to want to make him into. But this was a hard reminder of the fact that they harbored one of the most dangerous criminals to ever set foot on the face of the planet and the fact that said criminal was not in the best of moods after a week and two days of being cooped up.

"Behave." Banner said quietly, arching a brow at the obviously entertained god. Loki's eyes narrowed but he said nothing and instead leaned against the wall. Bruce and Natasha were the only ones he seemed to listen to, even begrudgingly and none of them had any real idea why. Bruce was obvious, it was still clear that Loki felt some sort of fear toward the man, but Natasha made little sense, as he could have snapped her in half if he really wanted to. She suspected it was respect, because she felt some for him as well. After all, Loki respected intelligence, and not the sort of intelligence that Stark possessed. He understood strategy and chain of command and that was something Natasha respected as well; in that, they had a ground on which they could stand with one another.

Fury sighed heavily. "None of your actions so far have convinced me that you're not a threat. Lying is what you do. You've given us no reason to trust you."

"Nor do I intend to. People are more inclined to fear those they do not trust. However, Director, if you truly wish to track me while I regain my strength in the wilds of America and then leave to realms unknown, be my guest." He stepped forward, extending a forearm, lips twisting into a mirthless smile that was a blatant and cruel dare. His eyes were glittering with challenge, all but begging Fury to try to touch him so that the anger he felt in his heart could explode out. "But I fear you will grow bored of the view sooner than you think. After all, I do not have the medicinal knowledge that dear Dr. Banner has, so you will find no entertainment in watching me heal little boys and girls from disease." The smile widened by two teeth on each side. "Nor do I have Agents Romanoff and Barton's skill sets to hunt down people S.H.I.E.L.D wants destroyed. You will find me a boring subject to study, supping on plants and the raw meat of deer."

By the end of his little monologue, Loki had leaned down into the Director's face, growling each word out in a fearful rasp that would have made a weaker man faint. But Nick Fury hadn't become director of the most powerful agency in the world by being weak at heart. He shoved the god back with a glare and stood to his full height. Loki only backed off about half a step, so they stood toe to toe, glowering at one another from almost the same height. They cut a formidable stance, standing in front of the window as lightning etched the sky and rain sluiced down the bullet-proof glass. Loki wore a tiny smile that contrasted to the twisted sneer that Fury bore. The Director was half an inch taller than the god, but they stared one another directly in the eye, a staring match for the ages.

"You talk a big game, Loki, but you test my patience. You may think that you're all that, but S.H.I.E.L.D is more than capable of holding you. We have many things that could dampen your powers and we have zero problem keeping you in such agony for the remainder of your time alive that you couldn't even fucking move. So don't pull that holier-than-thou attitude with me. God or not, you're still under the control of the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D right now." Fury spoke in a quiet and measured tone, keeping his dark eye locked onto Loki's pale and glittering spheres.

Murderous loathing coloured Loki's pale eyes, which were narrow. "Control." He said the two-syllable word like it was the foulest swear known to the realms. "I think, Director Fury, that you and I have a very different meaning for that word. I hope that one day our meanings will coincide." The smile dimmed faintly as he backed away. When he spoke again, his voice had taken on that of a command, layered with anger and dripping in a deadly promise. "You will put nothing in my flesh, though if you wish to have your precious agents follow me around until I leave Midgard, by all means, feel free. It will entertain me to hear their screams as they attempt to follow me to places no mortal can reach." With that, the god raked them all a sneer and left the room, melting back into the darkness just beyond the doorway to finish listening to their conversation.

"Charming fellow." Tony said, leaning back in his chair. He had recovered swiftly from the shock of his hand going right through Loki's arm.

Fury sunk back into his chair, glowering at the billionaire mutely. He knew, deep down, that the god was right and that nothing S.H.I.E.L.D could do in the end would stop Loki from leaving or vanishing if he truly wanted to. He also knew that the only reason Loki had stayed the week there so far was because it was incredibly convenient. He was a strategist and a good one at that. Stark Tower provided him with everything he needed to get better; food, shelter, clothing, running water. It was a safe haven despite the fact that it was a nest of enemies. In the last week, the Avengers had been watching him carefully and though he was still too thin and his face still had not fully healed, he was looking better than when they had first found him. He was regaining control over his powers faster than any of them had guessed him capable of doing so and it was a little unnerving to know that he could have lashed out at the meeting and probably killed any one of them if he had so chosen to do so. Yet it was also obvious that he had no interest in causing trouble beyond stirring them all up and pissing them off; he'd been friendly enough to talk to Bruce and Natasha, the two he found most intriguing. The others he left alone. The problem, of course, was that he was a loose cannon. There was no predictability about him, no way of knowing what he would do next and if they could stop it. That was what made him so dangerous.

"So, what, in a week we just let him walk out of here?" Stark looked around at the others, who looked about as happy as he felt.

"What choice do we really have? He seems to be telling the truth about his intentions – that or he is one incredibly good liar. I'd like to believe the best of him, though." Steve spoke quietly, looking at his hands rather than at the rest of the team.

"The best of him?" Clint snarled, half rising in his chair to glare at the Captain. "The best of him used me as his personal fucking puppet for two days to wreak all sorts of hell on Manhattan. We should have killed the fucker when we had the chance."

Bruce spoke as Natasha took Clint's hand gently, pulling her friend back into his chair and speaking softly into his ear until he calmed down. "Killing him might have brought the wrath of Asgard down on us and we all know that. We have no way of knowing if the Asgardians still claim him or not. Not to mention I'm sure Thor would have been so pleased with us for killing his little brother." Sarcasm dripped like water from melting ice in the last sentence.

"Enough. S.H.I.E.L.D will have two agents following him when they can. We can just hope he won't stay on Earth all that much longer." Fury ended the conversation and stood up at the same time, locking his single eye onto Natasha. "In the meantime, I have an assignment for you. I'll send the files over to you later tonight. You leave in two days."

Natasha nodded, accepting without asking that whatever it was, she would do. The meeting adjourned and Fury left the Avengers sitting together around the table, looking grim. In the two years they had all been living together, it had become difficult to accept that two of their group were still official agents and got called away to do missions. Clint and Natasha had each had three missions in the time since Loki's defeat, and while Natasha's had gone well, Clint had nearly been killed in the last one. It had been the one time the Avengers had 'assembled' in two years. It wasn't something they talked about, simply because the archer had been so adamant about pretending the fiasco had never actually happened and the others went along with it. After several moments, they all went their separate ways; Clint and Natasha together went to her room so he could help her pack things for whatever the mission would require. Steve went down to the gym to blow off some steam while Tony and Bruce went to the lab.

Much later that night, a little after midnight, Natasha and Clint stood out alone on the balcony off the main floor. She leaned against the railing with his arms around her waist, his chin resting on the top of her head. Though clouds still covered the stars, the storm had died out, leaving only a pleasant and cool wind that lifted Natasha's hair from her neck. The city was oddly quiet, something it often wasn't at night, though they both knew from experience that even New Yorkers knew when to retreat to rest. It was comforting to stand out in one another's quiet company, ignoring if only for a short while the troubles that lay heavily on their shoulders. Her assignment would take her to the West, where a small group of Russian drug dealers had set up shop in Utah; a strange, innocuous place for something of that nature, but she could see the appeal. No one would suspect them out there. It was her job to infiltrate, gather information, and take down the two leaders before getting out. Something simple, something she had done several times before.

She exhaled softly, tilting her head up and back to let her lips brush along Clint's jaw. "Try to behave while I'm gone, alright?" She murmured against his cheek, smiling.

He scoffed softly, thumb stroking the back of her hand lightly. "I always behave. You know that."

This time it was she who scoffed in amusement, before turning in his arms and letting him kiss her, long and slow. While they would both vehemently deny being lovers or intimate with one another, the whole team knew they were. It was kept quiet so that Fury wouldn't pitch a fit. After all, they'd been partners for so long that it seemed only natural for them to take the next step and become something more. They each knew it was foolish, but the heart wants, after all. Natasha sighed, resting her head on his shoulder after the kiss broke and staring silently into the house. It took her several moments to realize they were being watched and even when she did notice him, she said nothing for a bit. Loki was standing just behind the glass inside, entrenched in the shadows so that the only thing that was really visible was the glint of his eyes and the pallid hue of his flesh. When the archer realized she had gone tense, he released her and turned to see what she was looking at, his eyes immediately narrowing in hatred.

The God of Mischief stepped out onto the balcony quietly, keeping away from them but approaching the side and looking down over it mutely. Natasha observed him as he did so, her eyes as narrow as her partner's. Loki looked healthier than he had even before this, when he'd been on Earth the first time. The wounds on his face were slowly fading away, his lips had already healed, and the deep circles beneath his eyes were beginning to be replaced by healthy skin. He had regained much of the weight he had lost and while he had never stopped carrying himself like a king, he once more had the body and muscle mass to back up the haughty stance. He still looked strangely small within the leather and armor he had worn, ill fitted in Steve's borrowed clothing. But it was his eyes that she locked upon. They were a pale blue, with tiny sparkles of green and silver that would have been invisible to anyone else but she noticed as he turned the full weight of his gaze upon her. His eyes were clear and bright, not cloudy and dull like they had been for days now; for whatever purpose, something had changed inside his head and he seemed to have a reason behind his actions now.

"Are you looking forward to your mission, Agent Romanoff?" His voice was just a quiet murmur, monotonous, lacking any inflection on any word that might have made it seem harsh, but also lacking true curiosity.

"A mission keeps me from becoming too soft." She replied, equally soft. "It will be nice to go back into the field for a little while."

The corner of his mouth quirked into a tiny smirk, but his gaze flicked to the archer. "And what of you, Agent Barton? Do you wish you were going with her?"

Barton twitched, loathing the attention that his former master placed upon him. His voice was clipped and angry when he spoke. "She's perfectly capable of handlin—"

"That is not what I asked. Do you wish you were going with her?" Loki's voice pitched lower, a warning threading itself among the letters.

Clint's teeth ground together loud enough that both Natasha and Loki heard it – the god grinned his feral grin. "Yes. Like her, I'd rather be out in the field doing some good that sitting around babysitting you."

For a moment, the deity's gaze glittered with anger before it smoothed away. "Well, perhaps S.H.I.E.L.D can find something for their little bird boy to do after I've slipped away. After all, I'm sure there are plenty of people who need saving. You mortals seem to get yourself into trouble more often than not." His lips drew back slowly, exposing teeth in the smile he used on the Avengers. His eyes flicked back to the red-haired woman for a moment. "I'm just so disappointed that you won't be joining the others in wishing me good luck on my travels, Agent Romanoff. Perhaps you can send me a card once you return." He chuckled coolly, moving slowly toward the building.

Just before he entered the room, he half turned to lock his eyes onto Natasha's bright green ones. "Good luck on your mission, Agent Romanoff." He purred the words out in his most silken tones, slipping from his lips and into the atmosphere, twining into her ears. Once the final syllable had ceased to ring in the distance between them, Loki slipping softly into the tower and vanished into the darkness.