Steve really, really wished that Loki would think these things through. And hoped that he hadn't, because if he had and had decided to land Steve in this situation anyway…there wasn't even a suitable threat he could make.

"You know," said Tony, "if you weren't you, I would probably assume this was all some kind of elaborate practical joke." Steve deliberately did not look at Clint's face, which had gone stony.

"I'm not joking," Steve said, probably unnecessarily. "And I wasn't keeping this from you because I felt like it. He hasn't been causing trouble for us, and he threatened to – bother the rest of you if I said anything."

"Hasn't been causing trouble for us? He's the reason we're here in the-"

"How long?" Clint cut in, his voice flat. Steve couldn't help but glance over at him and notice Natasha eying him warily.

"I – what?"

"How long have you known Loki was alive?" Clint was so tense Steve expected him to start shaking. His heart sank into his stomach and he couldn't manage to deny it. He looked down.

"A few months, now."

"A few-" Tony swore, and Steve was now trying not to look at Thor, either, whose expression was wounded, betrayed..

"As I said," he repeated. "He threatened-"

"And you couldn't think of a way to even mention that Thor's crazy little brother was back from the dead?" Clint snapped over him.

"Not without putting all of you in danger!" Steve took a deep breath and snuck a look at Thor, hoping he would have a chance to speak to him once this was…at least partially settled. "—and he's not…back. Loki never died. He faked it. He was being chased by…the Chitauri, or at least he implied so, and-"

"It sounds as though," Natasha said quietly, "you've talked a great deal."

Steve closed his mouth and swallowed. He had had his reasons. Now he just needed to explain them. "I did what I thought best," he said, finally. "And what I hoped might…in the long run…" he trailed off. What had he thought, really? He could almost hear Loki's sneering voice, redemption? Please.

"In the long run what," Clint said, faintly belligerent.

"What is," Natasha said smoothly, "the state of your relationship with Loki?"

Steve wanted to wince. Relationship? That made it sound so… "I don't really know," he said slowly, reluctantly. "It's…hard to tell. But…" He glanced at Thor, who was still looking at him with that painful combination of ill-disguised hope and hurt. "He did…save my life. Just now."

"He says?" Clint said. Steve took a deep breath through his nose.

"I say. And besides that, he…feels he owes me a debt. And I don't think his commitment to clearing it is insincere."

"It is not," Thor said, suddenly speaking up, and he seemed to be sitting a little straighter. "A debt is no light matter on Asgard, and even Loki would not let one stand unmet."

"Formerly," Bruce interjected quietly, speaking up for the first time, and Thor's head turned to stare at him, brows furrowing. "—sorry, Thor, but…formerly. You've said yourself you hardly know him, the way he is now."

"I cannot believe," Thor began to say, not without some heat, and Steve cut in.

"I'm sure of his sincerity," he said, loudly. "On that point, at least."

"How sure?" Tony snapped, and Steve was about to snap back when he realized that it wasn't anger he could feel from his teammates, but worry. And of course they were worried. He'd disappeared from a battle. He'd been fraternizing with the enemy that had been their reason for coming together as a team in the first place. Steve felt almost immediately abashed. In their place, he would react the same.

He took a deep, calming breath and sat back. "Pretty sure," he said, levelly. "Of course I can't be completely. But it is true that we haven't had any trouble from Loki since he's been talking to me. And I do know that I probably wouldn't be here if he hadn't stepped in."

"Steve," said Natasha, slowly. "Why do you think Loki's been speaking to you in particular?"

"If I had to guess?" Steve looked down at his hands. "I'd say he's lonely, and since I…sort of helped him once I'm a better candidate than anyone else."

The room burst into a dull roar, between Clint's incredulous "you what?" and Tony's "this better not have been in my house", besides the others all saying things he couldn't quite catch. Steve waited it out until Thor roared over all of them, "Silence!" and there was. That was one good thing about Thor's incredible volume.

"Friend Steve," Thor said, intent and earnest. "You say you helped Loki. When, and how? And why have you said nothing?" That faintly hurt tone of voice was a knife.

"I was…it was just me. Here." Steve spoke slowly, carefully, choosing his words with care. "And he had just appeared in the lobby a bloody mess and then passed out, so I took him down to containment. It didn't sit right just…leaving him, he was pretty torn up, so I…yes. Helped him." And he would defend that decision. Even prisoners deserved humane treatment. No matter who the prisoner was. "After it was clear he didn't have enough magic to fix himself or leave. But within a couple days he was gone anyway."

"In my tower," Tony said. "In my tower and I would've heard about this if everything was working right so that means he fucked with the cameras…"

Thor, thankfully, didn't ask why Steve hadn't summoned him, though he still looked vaguely betrayed. Steve hoped dearly that he would get a chance to explain. "I didn't say anything," he pressed on, "because he was already in the wind and it wouldn't do us any good to know that he'd been here, and because…" Steve hesitated, and then finished, "from what he was saying, I didn't want to tell you, Thor, that your brother might not live much longer."

Natasha's eyes were narrowed. "So that time with the alarm," she said. "When you disappeared…"

"He was…thanking me." And a little bit more than that, but Steve was somehow reluctant to share the details of his conversations even with his friends. They were all staring at him.

Bruce leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. "I think," he said quietly, "we should let Steve tell us what's been going on."

~.~

Steve left the meeting feeling wrung out and exhausted. Thor, thankfully, did not follow him, only gripped his shoulder and said, "We shall speak later," though he added a smile to remove some of the foreboding sting from the words.

Entering his room, he half expected to see Loki on his bed, but it was blessedly empty, and he fell into it with relief, though it occurred to him like a shock to wonder blearily where Loki was, and what he was doing. Thought, for just a moment, of the strange tone in Loki's voice when he'd echoed Steve's next time and wondered all over again what he thought he was doing. And why he was bothering.

Loki had made it abundantly clear he had no interest in changing his ways. He said, Steve added, mentally. But…yet…

He stood up and sat down at his desk and pulled out his sketchpad and some pencils, hoping that some drawing would help clear his suddenly swirling thoughts.

Nothing made sense. What Loki said and what he did didn't seem to fit together, at least not how Steve wanted them to. Perhaps this was all just a matter of a debt, particularly if what Thor said was true. But why hold to customs of a home that he'd so thoroughly rejected? But not completely, somehow; he'd as good as admitted to missing the Queen of Asgard, his mother, and still caring for her. He'd seemed hurt by the accusation that he had arranged for Steve to be injured, and had seemed genuinely upset that he had been. He was, by turns, imperious, playful, cruel, thoughtful, always clever and sharp-edged, and increasingly often Steve thought he might be glimpsing the Loki that Thor loved so well and missed so much.

How lonely do you have to be to reach out to someone who's fought against you?

Steve blinked, looking down at what he'd drawn, and frowned. It was Loki, gaze turned aside and a slight frown of preoccupation touching his lips. It wasn't a good likeness, though. The Loki he'd drawn looked almost naked, even that very slight expression drawn bare of the masks and barriers he nearly always wore, so natural that they were almost invisible.

Steve turned the drawing over and pushed it away. His friends had every right, every reason to be worried. It was all too likely that Loki was lying, playing some kind of long game for his own inscrutable reasons and using Steve to do it. That he couldn't see how did not mean it wasn't there.

But.

And that was it, wasn't it? He was entangled, now. Just like Thor was. Unable to quite let go of the possibility, the chance… and it was true, wasn't it, that Loki hadn't attacked them since this whatever it was had started? That he hadn't attacked anyone?

Steve could feel himself getting a headache. He sighed and pushed the chair back, returned to his bed and stretched out in it, pulling the covers over himself. He felt a litte stiff, perhaps, and tired, worn out, but otherwise unharmed. Yanked out of danger and saved by Loki like he was some kind of…guardian angel.

A damned strange one, then.

Steve closed his eyes and let himself drift off. It was something he could consider in the morning.

He thought he remembered dreaming about Loki, a startlingly vivid one where Loki pushed a strand of hair back from Steve's forehead. "Good," he said. "You made it back safely, then. I suppose that's," and then he winked out.

When he woke up, though, even that slipped away quickly, and a moment later the entire previous day seemed like a dream more than anything, hazy and strange and surreal.

~.~

Loki did not turn up unexpectedly (or expectedly) for almost a month.

Steve caught himself worrying, more than once. Which he knew, logically, was unnecessary at best, and could be worse. But if Loki's deception had been discovered, and he was being pursued again, or already captured, or if he'd lost interest in Steve and was hidden somewhere scheming his next attack…

Gradually, Steve became disconcertingly aware that he found the former the more troubling option.

He'd gotten in too deep when he hadn't been looking.

There had been, Steve thought, a decision of some kind regarding Loki made without informing him, but he had next to no idea what it might be. After a few days, he gave up on trying to puzzle it out and accepted that his friends might be looking at him a bit oddly every so often – and that Clint refused to say more than two consecutive words to him for almost a week after – but that he had not been ruled untrustworthy, and they would take what measures they felt necessary.

Things were almost beginning to settle back to normal when Steve plodded back to his room after a long day of public appearances and found it already occupied, Loki sprawled lazily on his bed.

He stopped for just a moment in the doorway and then stepped quickly into the room and closed the door behind him. "Where've you been?" Burst out of him before he could hold it back, and if he felt himself flush in embarrassment it was somewhat made up for by the briefly startled expression on Loki's face.

"I wasn't aware I was expected," he said, after a moment, calm regained and a faintly sardonic smile appearing. "Much less at a particular time."

"If I had a way of contacting you," Steve said pointedly, "I would have said something."

Loki did not look in the least abashed. "A way of contacting me? What a curious thought. When I so enjoy surprising you." That sardonic smile bloomed a little wider. "Why, Captain. Did I cause you worry?"

Steve took a risk. Probably he would only end up looking like a fool, but…he stood up a little straighter. "Yes," he said, almost defiantly. "You did." He paid close attention to Loki's face, trying to catch the series of emotions that flickered across it in the space of a moment. Surprise, he thought, then pleasure, anger, puzzlement, all almost too fast to identify. But maybe he was getting better at this. The mask was back soon enough, though, of faintly amused humor.

"You've become a jester in my absence."

"I wasn't joking," Steve said firmly, and watched Loki twitch almost visibly. He covered quickly, however, and smiled one of those dazzling grins that was almost painfully insincere.

"Well, then. Thank you for your concern. Which…speaking of concern. How remiss of me. I haven't asked after your health."

"You'd know, I'd think," Steve said. Loki smiled very slightly.

"Overall, of course. Details, however…no unexpected side effects?"

Side effects? Steve wondered, with a jolt. "—no, I don't think so. What kind of-"

"You'd know," said Loki, almost disturbingly casually. "Trust me. Or – perhaps not. Poor word choice." That smile would be disarming for someone who didn't know anything about Loki, probably. For Steve, it made his stomach twist in a strange way not wholly unpleasant.

Steve turned the chair around from his desk and sat down in it, clearing his throat. "So…Thor and the others know you're alive, now. Did you…mean for that to happen?"

Loki looked faintly displeased. "Not entirely, no. But it seemed…unavoidable." Steve wondered about that – and doubted it a little – but he couldn't come up with a reason for Loki to want any of them to know he was alive. Of course, Steve could seldom come up with reasons for much of what Loki did; that was, probably, his failing.

Steve thought about mentioning that he'd almost gotten in trouble, and decided against it. He had a strange suspicion that Loki might just laugh at his worries. He cleared his throat after a few moments. "So you…look better."

The look he received was faintly amused. "You have no talent for small talk, my good Captain. Not that I mind; I find the entire practice intolerably dull." Loki stretched. "It is part of your charm, I think. Your utter lack of…affectation."

Steve decided not to comment that he thought it likely that Loki would have said the opposite until quite recently. "Thank you," he said, instead. Loki looked peculiarly amused.

"You are welcome." He leaned back against the pillows and laced his fingers behind his head. "You don't seem to have been placed under guard, or any such measures. They don't take you for a traitor, then?"

The question was asked so casually it took Steve a moment to truly register what had been said. "I – what? Of course not."

Loki shrugged. "Were I them, that would likely be my concern, and much as it pains me to admit it, the lot of them are not entirely complete fools." Steve frowned, torn between bristling and a frown.

"I explained the situation," he said, and almost immediately Loki tensed.

"What situation?"

This was what Steve hated. The feeling that it would be so easy to make a misstep, but he wasn't certain what the misstep would be or how to avoid it. He hesitated a long moment and then said, "That you haven't been actively antagonizing us, just talking to me. And that you saved my life."

"And they simply accepted that?" Loki sounded doubtful.

"They didn't like it," he said, "But yes, they accepted it." He took a deep breath and then added, slowly, "If you gave them a chance to…"

"To what," Loki said, unmistakably amused. "To glimpse my better nature?"

Steve pressed his lips together, feeling a prickle of frustration at the note in Loki's voice. "You don't need to make it sound as though the idea is so absurd. You've proven to me-"

"What have I proven to you?" Loki's voice was suddenly quite sharp and he sat straight up. "What, other than my ability to carry on a civilized conversation? You attribute too much to a whim born of simple boredom."

"Why are you so quick to tell me that I'm wrong?" Steve asked, the twinge of irritation becoming more definite. "It's like you want me to assume the worst."

Loki's laugh was bright and sharp. "Hardly! I merely have little interest in hearing you grasp at straws to maintain your absurd hope that I will someday realize my sins and repent, casting myself on the mercy of such heroes as yourself."

"What happens if I don't think you're pure evil?" Steve pressed. "Is it about having a reputation to maintain, or-"

Loki took in a sharp breath and then let it out and leaned back again. He looked too deliberately relaxed, though, head falling back and throat extended like a proclamation of his confidence, of his invulnerability. "Do people of your acquaintance frequently call your naivete charming?" He asked, voice almost sweet. "Because it is not. A few glimpses and you think you have seen the whole."

"I don't think I've seen the whole anything," Steve said honestly. "Just enough."

"Enough what?" The sharp bite to Loki's voice belied his apparent relaxation.

"Enough of you," Steve said, lifting his chin and keeping his gaze and voice both level and calm. "Enough of you as…a person, rather than as an enemy or opponent."

"You think you know me?" There was a quiver in Loki's voice like anger, but that wasn't what Steve thought he saw in Loki's posture. Agitation, rather. Almost uncertainty. He hesitated. Are you afraid of that?

"No," he said, after a moment, still carefully. "I don't. But now I think I might like to."

Loki was, for just a fraction of a moment, perfectly still. Then he coughed a sudden, sharp laugh. "Would you. You would not like what you found, I would guess."

"I might surprise you."

Loki regarded him for a moment, and then glanced away with a quiet huff of a laugh. "Perhaps you would. You are quite full of delightful little surprises." Steve suspected he was being mocked, but decided, for the moment, to ignore it. His initial surprise fading, he'd thought of something else.

Over the last month, he'd had a thought, and considered it, turning it over to examine from different angles, by turns finding it preposterous and almost intoxicating. He inhaled deeply and took the plunge. "Would you ever want to…meet normally? Set up a date and a time and a place…"

Loki raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. "You don't like me turning up in your bed unannounced?"

Steve had spent enough time with Tony to catch that one, and refused to acknowledge the warm flush he could feel spreading on his face. He suspected it was no more than a distraction. For once he'd managed to surprise Loki, and he wasn't about to lose that slight advantage. "I was just thinking maybe it'd be nice for you not to have to sneak in and out."

"It is no trouble. I am so very good at sneaking." There was something there that made Steve want to frown, but it was gone in the next words. "That would make it so…formal. I treasure, Captain, the casual nature of our meetings. However…" he looked thoughtful, for just a moment. Steve waited. "I suppose I wouldn't be entirely averse to the notion," Loki said, at length.

Steve felt a slight pang of surprise of his own, followed almost immediately by a rush of pleased pride. Startled by the latter, he almost stumbled. "—you wouldn't?"

"No." Loki's eyes focused on him, suddenly – and almost fiercely – intent. "I would not." The way he said it, cool but somehow defiant, like a challenge, seemed… He doesn't believe me, Steve realized, and was stung by the realization.

"Great," he said, with some of his own ferocity. "Would you want to – do coffee? Or something else?"

"Coffee sounds delightful." The edge was so slight Steve might have imagined it. He didn't think so, though. "If a touch mundane…"

"Why don't you choose where we go to coffee, then," Steve said impulsively. "With your magic thing…"

"Magic thing." There was something peculiar in Loki's tone, for a moment, but then it was gone, and if the smile was hardly reassuring at least, Steve told himself, it was a smile, and not an entirely cruel one. "Of course. I'd be delighted." Loki stretched, elongating the already long lines of his body. "Your friends will not object?"

Not if they don't know flashed into Steve's mind, and he almost immediately felt a surge of sick guilt in his stomach. How am I going to do this? Maybe he couldn't. Maybe it would be better to back out now, tell Loki he was sorry but he couldn't…

No. That was too – dangerous. Loki would lash out at something like that, might start attacking again. And it would just be proving all those doubts he'd glimpsed in Loki's face. And…

And he didn't want to stop.

"I'll figure something out," he said, finally, trying to sound firm.

"Will you." Now Loki seemed faintly amused. "Coffee, then. Shall we say…next week, Wednesday, at two? I can inform you as to where we should meet."

Steve's stomach roiled nervously. Or perhaps excitedly. "That should be fine."

"Then we are agreed." Loki rolled smoothly up to sitting. "Well then. I suppose I shall-"

Steve blinked. "Wait-" he said, before he cut himself off. Loki turned his head to look at him, eyebrows arched, and he tried not to feel self-conscious. "We've hardly talked," Steve said, after a moment. "And it's…been a while, and the last couple times we met weren't exactly…" He trailed off.

"You wish me to stay?" There was just the faintest strange emphasis to that, it seemed, but of course a moment later he was hardly sure of it, and found himself hesitating to answer. "No matter," Loki said, however, tone suddenly almost airy. "I had not intended to leave you just yet as it was – I am in no rush to depart your company, my good Captain."

That casual expression of not quite ownership, as before, birthed a strange but not unpleasant squirming sensation within him. Steve pushed that away. Were you testing me? he wondered, and pushed that away too, because he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He looked for a place to sit that wasn't on the bed and settled on the chair at his desk. "Am I allowed to ask where you were?"

"You are allowed to ask whatever you wish, Captain."

Steve sighed a little. "But you're not going to answer," he said. Loki's lips turned up slightly at the corners.

"You don't enjoy my little word games, do you? I can almost see you getting impatient. 'Can't he just say what he means,' you think."

"Why can't you?" Steve challenged, a little piqued by the amusement in Loki's voice.

"Why can't I, indeed?" Loki's smile turned slightly crooked. "As well ask why I lie. It's a character fault, I suppose – a strict aversion to the definite and the straightforward. My crooked nature bends me away from the straight line of honesty." His voice was touched for a moment by a sort of melodramatic ruefulness. Steve half opened his mouth, and Loki waved a hand. "No, don't protest, I jest. Mostly. But if it frustrates you so – how is this, valiant defender of justice? You have one half hour to ask me what questions you choose, and I will give you an answer that neither evades nor equivocates and most certainly does not lie."

Steve blinked. To say he hadn't expected that would be an understatement. "—any question?" he said, carefully. Loki spread his hands.

"Any question." The expression on his face…Steve scrutinized it. It was strange, placid, he thought, but with a hint of something else he couldn't quite place. That made him nervous. He hesitated. There were all kind of answers he would like – more, there were questions he should ask, that the Avengers needed. Are you planning any attacks? What weaknesses do you have? But he couldn't…

"I don't want you to…." Steve considered how best to phrase this. "…be upset because you feel obliged to answer something you don't want to."

Loki's mouth twitched at the corners, but it didn't seem quite in the direction of a smile. "Upset. Hm. Fear not, Captain – I assure you that I will not be upset with you for asking a question I invited you to pose."

Steve doubted that, but he didn't think it was wise to say so. "I don't even know what I would ask," he said, truthfully.

"Surely you have inquiries you would like to make. Puzzles you cannot solve." Loki's eyes on him had that curious expression again, somehow simultaneously mocking and expectant. Steve tried to think what it reminded him of.

"Of course I do," Steve said, rubbing his forehead. "But I don't want you to – I want you to tell me things because you want to, not because I make you."

That peculiar smile flickered into being again. "Are you so polite with all your enemies?"

"My enemies," said Steve, with some emphasis, "don't usually turn up in my room, or save my life, or offer to answer unspecified questions for no particular reason."

"I do strive for individuality," Loki said pleasantly. Steve felt the mingled urge to laugh and groan that he'd become somewhat familiar with, but mostly from Tony or Clint.

"Do you want me to ask you things?" he asked, then. Loki's eyebrows arched.

"Is that one of your questions?"

Steve sighed, and shook his head. "All right, fine. Say it is."

"Yes," Loki said, after a moment's pause, eyebrows relaxing and his smile fading. "I suppose I would. I am curious what it is you are curious about. And I am the very soul of vanity, and do so love to talk about myself." That smacked, Steve, thought, of insincerity, but he accepted it.

"All right," he said, slowly, trying to think fast, which questions he could ask and which he had best not. (Which questions he should ask, and could not.) "How about – where were you, then? All this time."

"Traveling," Loki said, easily. "And resting. One must be sure to get one's beauty rest. If I'd known you were concerned, I might have sent a postcard. Dull question."

Steve imagined, for a moment, getting a postcard from Loki. The idea just seemed… "Um…" he tried to think of another question. "—have you always been able to do magic?" he asked. Loki looked faintly surprised, though it only lasted a moment.

"Are you asking if I always had the means or the skill?"

Steve hesitated. "Well…the means, I suppose."

"Yes." Loki's smirk was decidedly insufferable. Steve blew out a breath.

"Is that all you're going to say?"

The smirk widened, and Loki cocked his head slightly to the left. "Were you hoping for a lecture on magical theory?" The question was clearly rhetorical, but Steve lifted his chin with some pride.

"I wouldn't mind a brief one," he said. Again he caught that flicker of startlement before it was wiped away.

"Why?" Loki asked, after a moment. Steve was briefly tempted to answer that he was asking the questions, but that sounded petulant even in his own head.

"Because I'm curious," Steve said honestly. "Magic was always…fantasy to me. But you can do some…pretty incredible things."

Loki eyed him for a moment, and Steve thought he wasn't going to answer, but then he shrugged. "You are fortunate it's not a terribly complex question, or it would take up the whole of your half hour of honesty. Very well. There are three principal avenues by which one may reach magical power. The first is inborn – the ability or power is innate and will express whether trained or not, but untrained is likely to cause harm to the user. The second is through the learning of certain techniques that allow limited manipulation of one's surroundings – weaker than inborn magic, but in some ways more reliable, and those users of it are often better by virtue of the difficulty involved. The third is to use of items of power – to borrow strength, as it were, from some artifact or talisman imbued with craft." Loki sounded faintly disdainful. "The easiest to master of the three, and the least precise."

Steve listened, fascinated. "And you?" he asked, when Loki paused. "Your magic is…"

"Innate." Loki's mouth flickered a little bit toward an expression like a smile, but not quite. "It is fairly rare among the Aesir. And one of the things that makes me so difficult to imprison, as cutting a natural sorcerer wholly away from their craft usually kills them – and not easily, either." Steve could guess easily enough how that had been found out, and felt a little twist of unease. Loki shrugged."Though I suppose you might find your life easier if they had decided the risk was worth taking."

His voice was light, airy. Steve gritted his teeth. "You said it was rare among the Aesir," he said. "So who taught you?"

"Odin, as much as he had a mind to – or was able," Loki said, his gaze turning forward and tone flattening. "Busy as he was, however – or disinterested, who can say – I mostly taught myself."

Steve tried to picture a smaller, younger Loki, not quite in control of his own power, and found the image disconcertingly easy to conjure. He didn't think it would have been, not so long ago. "Well," he said, trying for a smile, "you seem to have managed pretty well."

Loki's smile was thin and his eyes did not turn back to Steve. "I am pleased you noticed."

Steve cleared his throat, feeling a pang of nervousness – but frustration, too. He hated how easy it seemed to be to misstep, and how incapable Loki seemed of just letting things go. He groped for another question. "Um – what's your favorite – spell? If that's what you call it, your favorite thing to do with magic."

Again that look, like Loki was trying to puzzle out why Steve was asking, maybe, or if there was some kind of ulterior motive under the question, but at least his gaze flicked back to Steve, and he seemed effectively distracted. "My favorite…" He made a sound like an aborted laugh. "You are so very peculiar sometimes."

"I don't even try," Steve said blandly. Loki looked faintly amused, and then thoughtful.

"I suppose I always – worldwalking." He leaned his head back and half closed his eyes. "Traveling the roads between worlds, between stars, every realm set out before my feet…" The amusement faded. "The tug between self-preservation and the song the Void sings…I enjoyed that."

Steve hesitated before asking, carefully, "Enjoyed?"

Loki's smile was thin and sardonic, with an edge Steve didn't quite understand. "The spaces between worlds have lost some of their savor for me. And gained rather more danger than I prefer to risk without very good reason."

"Oh." Steve cleared his throat. "—sorry."

Loki flipped a hand in a sharp, swift gesture. "Think not of it. I could hardly expect you to anticipate my every thought." Well, that was good, Steve thought a little drily, cause he had trouble following even a few of them. "Go on."

"I…" Steve tried to think of another question. It was a little easier to come up with a few banal questions, unimportant and inoffensive, though Loki seemed faintly bored. Steve could almost feel his mood darken, not picking up from where it had fallen.

Steve fell silent, trying to think what might help, what might get them back on better footing, some question that would put Loki in a better mood. All he could think of was the myths, wondering if some of the stranger ones had any truth to them, but he doubted that would be smart. Nothing about Thor was safe. "What's the best thing you've seen traveling around Earth?" he decided on, finally. Loki's eyebrows rose slightly, but a faint smile curved up the corner of his mouth.

"Another odd choice of question." Loki cocked his head a little to the side. "Have you no more pressing concerns to investigate?"

"I'd rather know a little more about you," Steve said frankly. That quizzical look flashed again, for a moment, like Loki didn't quite know what to make of that, or of him. Steve felt faintly uncomfortable under that scrutiny, but it was gone quickly, and Loki glanced away.

"The best thing I've seen. Mmm…in the north, in your…Norway, perhaps, or Sweden, there is a waterfall, and at the bottom of it there is a pool of cold, clear water. I swam there a few months ago wearing nothing but my skin and after sat on the rock and watched the sun sink." Loki's gaze slid back to Steve, one eyebrow curving up. "I have a weakness for beautiful things, I suppose."

"It sounds wonderful," Steve said, feeling suddenly awkward, as though he'd intruded on something he wasn't meant to have. He could just picture Loki swimming, cutting through the water graceful as a fish, lying on the rocks drying, entirely naked-

He cut off his thoughts in a hurry, face feeling warm. Loki was watching him with a hint of something flickering around his mouth, and Steve scrambled for another question, tried to think of something that would distract Loki – would distract him.

"Why did you decide to talk to me?" Steve blurted out, without thinking, speaking the first question that came to mind. "Out of everyone, why me?"

Silence. Steve realized, a moment later, what he'd asked, and almost wanted to reclaim the question, call it back. Loki was regarding him, his expression suddenly smoothed clean. Steve's stomach flipped. "Do you mind?" he asked, eventually, too quietly. "Would you rather it were someone else?"

Steve swallowed. There was something strangely brittle to that question, and he had the sudden sense of teetering on some edge, where he could not see how, if he fell, he would land. "No," he said, finally, slowly. "No, I just…wondered."

Another silence. Steve began to wonder if Loki would just remain silent until the half hour was up to avoid answering, but then he spoke. "Why should it be so surprising? You are a curious creature, Captain. More unique than I think you know." He paused, and then added, softer, "And…you were…gracious. When you had no reason to be, and no other had been."

It was near enough to the explanation he'd proposed to his friends, but Steve still stuttered over it, like catching his foot on a hidden rock. "I didn't," he started to protest. "I just…I just did what anyone would do."

"Anyone." Those slender dark eyebrows arched slightly, lips twisting in a wry smile. "Had I been in your position, I should not have done what you did."

Steve took a breath through his nose. "Didn't you?" He said carefully. Loki's eyes cut to him. "I mean…you didn't have to help, when I was in trouble."

Loki's expression flickered, the wry smile melting away. "A false equivalency."

"Is it?" Steve pressed. Loki's eyes narrowed, and he stood, in one smooth movement.

"Your half hour is past," he said, tone even and cool. "And I do have some things to see to. Next Wednesday – I will send you a message to tell you which coffeehouse suits me."

"A message? How?" Steve said, blankly. Loki looked pointedly at Steve's uncharged phone lying on his desk, and Steve flushed. "The number you contacted me from before…"

"Will work. I shall expect you." Loki turned, raising a hand. "It is…pleasing to find you well," he added, after a moment's pause, and then vanished. Steve blinked at the place he had been, feeling more than slightly bewildered, and not sure whether to think that conversation had gone well or not.

~.~

Steve half expected to be met with accusing faces – or perhaps handcuffs – when they were called to assemble early the next morning. No one said anything, however, other than the usual mumbled greetings from a decidedly disheveled looking Tony and Clint and Natasha's polite, "Good morning, Steve." Bruce just waved with his usual faintly sheepish half-smile.

No one confronted him over any of the next few days, in fact, and Steve was almost disappointed. If he'd been found out, there would be no need to decide what the right thing to do was. Steve debated about how he was supposed to keep his agreed meeting with Loki without betraying his team, and could not think of a satisfactory answer.

To his surprise, it was Natasha who solved his problem, by flopping down next to him on the couch where he was sketching, kicking up her feet on the coffee table, and asking quite casually, "So have you seen Loki recently?"

Steve almost jumped, and then felt immediately guilty. He didn't even think to try to lie. "Once," he said, carefully. "He…um…dropped by once."

"Mmm." Natasha tilted her head back. "What was the upshot of that?"

Steve hesitated. "I don't think…"

Natasha's eyes snapped open, some of her casual demeanor peeling away. "I don't care about the touchy-feely details, Steve. The only thing I want to know is if he's a threat, and what kind of deal you've made with him."

"Deal?" Steve sputtered a little. "It's not – it's not like that, I didn't – I meant to-"

"Calm down," Natasha said, sounding faintly exasperated. "I'm not going to have you drawn and quartered for treason. I don't like it, whatever it is you're doing, or think you're doing. But we had a talk, and between Bruce and Thor – and Tony, you should know – we'll live with it. For now."

Steve blinked, completely taken off guard. The look Natasha gave him was faintly reminiscent of the one she frequently directed at Tony. "As long as we feel like you can handle it, you can handle it. The minute it starts looking like you can't…then we step in. If you think you can…ugh, I don't know, keep Loki from going off the rails and wreaking havoc again…more power to you." Natasha, Steve noticed, sounded faintly disgusted with the idea. "So long as you keep us informed of any relevant information you think we need to know."

"You're just going to let…" he trailed off. "—why didn't anyone say anything before now?"

Natasha shrugged. "I was kind of hoping Tony's new security measures would catch him. Looks like not so much, though, so…" She raised her eyebrows. "What do I need to know?"

Steve half opened his mouth to object that someone still could have said something, closed it, and sighed. "I'm meeting him for coffee," he said, after a moment.

"Is that wise?" Natasha asked delicately. Steve expelled a sigh.

"I don't know. Probably not." Steve shook his head. Natasha hummed under her breath.

"When?" she asked, after a moment's pause.

"Wednesday, at two. He's choosing where." Steve felt an uncomfortable little feeling in his stomach, like he was somehow doing something wrong by answering these questions. "Are you going to-"

"Bug you? No, there wouldn't be much use." Natasha looked thoughtful. "If you told me where you were going, though, we could see to it that some agents were-"

"No," said Steve at once. "No, that's…no. He'll notice. This works…or has worked…because he trusts me. At least a little bit. If I ruin that…I have a feeling it'll be a whole lot worse than just about anything else we could do." Natasha looked at him, for a long time, and then nodded, slowly.

"You'd know, it sounds like…" she said, and stopped. Then her tone changed slightly, became quieter. "This isn't just a moral crusade for you, is it."

Steve shifted uncomfortably. "I'm just trying to think what would be best."

"I believe that," Natasha said, mildly. "I guess I just wonder for who." She shook her head. "Steve…be careful. You're a good guy. I know you're not stupid, but…"

"I'll be careful," Steve said firmly, though some small part of him objected that he'd been anything but 'careful' and was already far beyond 'careful.' That he'd taken too many risks to turn around now and the only way out was through, whatever that meant.

Natasha looked at him for a long time, and eventually breathed out a quiet sigh. "Yeah," she said, "All right. I guess I'll just have to believe that." She stood up, smoothly. "And believe that you know what you're doing."

She padded back out of the room. Steve looked after her, frowning, and tried not to ask himself again if he was making the right call, or if he was just falling into another trick.

~.~

He received a message from an unknown number, reading simply Tortoiseshell Café, on Tuesday. He looked up the name in a phone book, found the cross streets on a map, and walked – it wasn't far. He'd been expecting some far flung place, perhaps in Paris. Or maybe somewhere even stranger.

Arriving just before two, Steve took a seat, feeling bizarrely nervous in a way he wasn't familiar with. He spent the time he sat waiting for Loki to arrive (he chose to show up slightly early, just in case) trying to work out exactly the source of it.

Steve was no closer to working it out when Loki sat down across from him without seeming to have approached and settled into his seat with a faint smile curving his lips. "I did not receive a response from you," he murmured. "I thought you'd forgotten." His tone was light, but Steve could just hear the bite underneath. Forgotten, or decided not to come. His chin lifted.

"I didn't," he said, nearly defiant. "As you can see."

"As I can see." Loki leaned back in his chair, slightly, and the shift was barely perceptible, but somehow he looked suddenly as though he were seated in a throne rather than a wicker chair. "Have you ordered already?"

"No," Steve said. "Have…"

"Yes." Loki waved a hand, king to courtier. "Go on. I shall mind the table." Steve hesitated. There was something strange about this mood, but he wasn't quite ready to comment on it yet. He got up and ordered his coffee instead, and watched Loki out of the corner of his eye.

He looked almost…healthy, Steve thought. Better than he had since – well. Since Steve had known him, maybe. Filled out, at least somewhat, his skin no longer so translucent. Of course it could be false, but it occurred to Steve that he made as striking a figure now, looking out the window of a small café in New York City, as he had at any other time with his posturing and grandeur.

Steve looked away quickly, ordered a coffee and a scone, and returned to the table with the latter in hand. Loki's eyes, he realized as he sat down, were closed, his expression calm. Steve cleared his throat gingerly and Loki opened one eye.

"Hmm. I felt you watching."

Steve sat down. "You look healthier," he said."Are you, or is that…"

Loki's other eye opened, and his gaze turned to Steve more fully. His eyebrows arched slightly. "Do you expect an honest answer to that question?"

"I was hoping I could," Steve said honestly. Loki's mouth quirked up at one corner.

"Why? Does my stay of execution expire as soon as I am a suitably challenging opponent? Because I ought to tell you-"

Steve felt a little twinge of annoyance. "You're still – I'm not planning on doing anything unless you force my hand by attacking us or the Earth or something. Other than that – and even if you did start causing trouble, I at least wouldn't be inclined to jump straight to capital punishment-" Steve cut off as he caught Loki's expression, his eyebrows raised and looking as though he was trying not to laugh.

"My dear Captain, endearing as your indignation is, I jest."

Steve felt himself flush. "It wasn't a very good joke, then."

"Perhaps not." Loki still seemed amused, though. "I shall attempt to refrain in the future, though of course I can make no guarantees." He grinned toothily. Steve held back a sigh. Loki's hand darted across the table and stole a crumb of his scone. "Don't look so unhappy, Captain. Is this not supposed to be a pleasurable outing?"

"Yeah," said Steve, feeling just a bit disgruntled. "It is." He drew his scone back what he hoped was out of reach, and took a careful bite of it, feeling self-conscious with Loki watching him so closely. "Did you get anything to eat?" he asked.

"Toast and jam; I'm sure it will be along soon." Loki sat back and shifted his chair so he could stretch out his long legs slightly at an angle. "So, Captain – how was your week? Not too eventful, I hope." His eyes sparkled in a way that Steve suspected meant Loki knew very well that there'd been a mess of a situation with Hydra.

"If you're following the news I suspect you know the answer to that," he said blandly. That expression of slight amusement only intensified.

"You seemed to be holding your own fairly well, at least for a while," he said, propping his chin on his hands. "There were a few times I was nearly concerned, but…"

Steve stiffened. "You were there?"

Loki's smile was bright and decidedly disingenuous. "I've invested a great deal of time in you, Captain; at this point it would be a shame to find that time wasted with your untimely expiration." He shrugged one shoulder. "Besides, I was not otherwise occupied. If one visits too many art museums in swift succession, one fails to appreciate each fully."

Steve felt a little like grinding his teeth. He had a feeling that was the point, though, so he refrained. "If you were so worried-"

"I ought to have helped? Please. If I showed myself in the middle of one of your little brawls, what do you think the result would be?" Loki's mouth curled at one corner, crookedly. Steve supposed that was true. He still didn't like it, though.

The waitress came over and set down their drinks, and Loki's toast. She gave Steve a curious look, blushed a little, murmured something, and left quickly. Steve watched Loki curiously, noticed the way he tensed just slightly as she approached and relaxed with her retreat. He cleared his throat.

"How is it no one recognizes you?" he said, lowering his voice. Loki's mouth twitched toward a smile that didn't touch his eyes.

"I suggest they do not." He tipped his head in the direction the girl had gone. "Likely she will return to her home and tell whoever she cares to tell that she met Captain America today – who'd have thought? If anyone asks if he was with anyone, however – she may remember yes, vaguely, someone or other – but no more than that. Why should it matter?" He laughed, quietly, something faintly ironic to his smile. "Most folk forget the majority of what they see without help from me. I simply ensure that they never stop to think twice."

Steve frowned. That didn't strike him as quite right – not quite fair, maybe. He chose to let it go, though, and picked at his scone. He knew what he wanted to say, and just wasn't quite sure how to go about it.

Loki's head cocked slightly to the side, and he set down his tea. "You are avoiding something you wish to speak to me about, but do not know how to bring up. By all means." He made a loose sort of gesture Steve supposed was supposed to mean speak freely. Steve picked up his coffee, set it down, and looked at his plate.

"You left in a hurry last time," Steve said, carefully. Loki's eyebrows arched.

"Did I?"

"It seemed like it, yes," Steve said, still cautious. "I was…worried."

"You seem to spend a great deal of time worrying." Loki picked up his tea again, and smiled a small, patronizing grin. "About me, what is more. Need I remind you that I am hardly helpless?"

"That's not the point," Steve said, with some exasperation. "It's – oh, never mind." He sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "I know you don't want to hear it."

"Then is it not a conversation best avoided?" Loki's voice was light, airy, but there was a hint of danger under it for all that. Steve sighed.

"Yeah," he said, shortly. "Yeah, fine."

"Your consideration is appreciated." Loki had a slow sip of tea. Steve held in the urge to sigh. He wished, just once, that he could at least feel like he was getting somewhere, making progress, doing something. He just didn't know how.

"How's your, uh, vacation been?" He asked, after a moment's pause. Loki tilted his head back and looked thoughtful, to his surprise.

"Enlightening," he said, finally. "Yours is a decidedly curious realm."

Steve's ears pricked. That didn't sound like a bad thing. "How so?"

Loki cast Steve a look that he couldn't quite decipher. "You ought to know," he said, after a moment, his voice casual, "that yours has always been considered a backwater of the nine realms. Rich in natural resources, perhaps, and with its own curiosities, but hardly worth much more notice than that. You will notice that my father thought little of using it as a penal colony for Thor. Your advantage until now has been in being insignificant enough to go unnoticed by the larger universe."

Steve felt a bit disgruntled by that assessment. He supposed that it was true in some ways, though – at least, until very recently they hadn't even known there were other – "realms" out there, not to mention ones populated by intelligent life. He was still tempted to remind Loki that their 'backwater' had thwarted his plans fairly effectively. "What's your point?"

Loki folded his hands on the table. "Perhaps it was true once – no, I have no doubt it was true once. But it seems when we of the higher realms-" There was a touch of bitter irony in his voice, for a moment, but it was gone quickly, "-were busy with ourselves, you humans have been busy as well."

"Nothing stays the same forever," Steve said.

"Asgard does. Or would try to." If Loki's voice sharpened for a moment, it smoothed over again quickly. "But you….relish change. Almost seem to revel in it. And despite your thoroughly limited capacity…"

"Hey," Steve said mildly. Loki arched his eyebrows.

"Take offense all you like, it is still true. It is not your innate power or nature that draws my attention. Rather…" He trailed off, took a slow breath through his nose. "It is - I must admit - amazing. How quickly your species crawled out of the mud and reached for more, ever more, ever…" Loki shook his head, slightly. "You are so small, so petty and pathetic and vicious with each other."

"Thanks," Steve said dryly. Loki hardly even glanced at him, his expression somewhat of a frown.

"But for all that…your greed for knowledge is insatiable, as though you forget that sometimes it is the mystery that gives a thing its beauty, and wish to forget that there is much you will never know. And yet I must be…impressed."

He tried to keep voice and face neutral. "That's a change."

Loki's gaze cut back to him, refocusing. "I am not incapable of recognizing when I have made an error in judgment, however rare such a thing may be. You are still, more often than not, dull little creatures."

"You're spending your valuable time with me," Steve said, a little dryly. Loki smiled a little too widely.

"An exception to every rule."

Steve sighed, and picked up his scone to have a bite of it. Sometimes it seemed like his conversations with Loki were mazes, and he was a mouse running around in it. And someone kept changing the maze. He wished, just once, he could get a clear sense of things, of what Loki wanted from him. Loki was watching him, looking amused again.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, after a few moments of silence. "You say I'm no good at small talk, and you don't like it anyway."

A brief smile flickered around Loki's mouth. "That's true enough."

"So…?" Steve prompted. He felt fidgety, restless. Not exactly uneasy, something else that he was no more sure how to quantify than his earlier nervousness.

"Are you certain you wish to leave that choice to me?" Loki's smile was just a touch too wide. "I have told you something of my past months. It seems only fair you tell me something of yours."

"I can't talk about-"

"Business, of course, I understand." Loki waved a hand, carelessly, and propped the other under his chin, his expression attentively curious. "I did not mean such, at any rate. No, something about yourself, Captain."

Steve scratched the back of his head. "Something about me?"

"Can I not be curious about your life?"

"No, just…" Steve trailed off, trying to remember if Loki had ever asked him a similar queston before. He seemed to just know things. Like about Bucky, he remembered, or his displacement in time. "…there's not really much to say. I don't really do a whole lot."

Loki frowned. "Oh, come."

"I don't," Steve protested. "I mean, I guess…" he cast about for something. "—I draw, when I have time. Started doing that some more again. Just some sketches."

Loki's mouth curved in a small smile. "I wasn't aware you had the soul of an artist, Captain."

Steve sat up, stung. "Why shouldn't I? I've always liked to draw."

"I never said you should not!" Loki said, eyes widening into a look of too-deliberate innocence. "Merely that I was surprised. I should not have expected it of you. I suppose I ought to be used to your surprises by now, though." He tipped his head back and looked down his nose at Steve through half-closed eyes.

"I am curious," Loki said, suddenly, and his voice was almost soft. "What is it you hope to accomplish by continuing to speak to me? Do you still harbor hope for my being cured of my wicked ways? Or do you simply feel obliged to continue out of a desire to keep one eye on my illustrious person?" His mouth curved in a slight smile. "Or perhaps some of both?"

"Can't I just want to talk to you?" Steve said. Loki laughed, quietly.

"You simply seek my delightful company? Ah, of course. I might have known."

"I do," Steve protested. "I mean – everything aside, you're not bad to talk to. When you're not trying to antagonize me…"

"Was I trying to antagonize you? I thought I managed it without effort." Loki's voice had that light note to it again, flippant and careless, that Steve was beginning to think meant he was approaching something Loki didn't want to discuss, or that Loki was trying to provoke him into an argument, so he ignored it.

"I don't know what you think it means when someone starts seeing you as – I don't know, as a person, what it is about that that you don't want-"

"Perhaps I merely have no interest in your continued and bizarre conviction that I can somehow be fixed."

"I never said you needed to be fixed," Steve protested. Loki arched an eyebrow. "I didn't. That's not…" he trailed off, feeling exasperated again, trying to think. Loki watched him with that too placid expression, and had a nibble of his toast.

"I wasn't always like this," Steve said, after a few moment's silence.

"Like what?" Loki almost drawled. "Almost painfully noble and perhaps overinclined to compassion?"

Steve wanted to argue with that, but he had a feeling it wouldn't get him anywhere. "No. Like-" he gestured at himself, feeling vaguely uncomfortable, self-conscious. "—this. Physically, I mean."

Loki's mouth twisted, his expression turning slightly mirthless. "You blossomed overnight?"

"No," Steve said with some frustration. "I didn't – this is all the serum they gave me. Before that, I was just – some kid with a list of health problems a mile long who didn't know when to back down from a fight."

Loki's fingers curved around his cup of tea, his middle finger tapping once. "And?" he said, after a moment's pause. Steve shifted.

"What do you mean, 'and'?"

"Why tell me this? I can only suppose you have some – ah – moral in mind." Loki sounded more bored than annoyed by the prospect. "I've told you before how I feel about tedious proselytizing."

"That's not-"

"Isn't it?" Loki's voice was suddenly sharp, and his eyes locked on Steve, gaze suddenly opaque and empty of expression. "What is it you expect of me? That I will suddenly realize that I, too, can change what I am? I am afraid, Captain, that the core of a thing does not change. I can alter my skin as much as I please and it will not matter even slightly."

"I was just telling you something about myself," Steve said, his voice rising. "Like you asked!"

"A story for a story, then, is that fair?" Loki's voice dropped, became quiet and sharp, his eyes suddenly boring into Steve's. "I know not what Thor has told you, but in one sense, at least, I was like you when I was young. Often sick, weaker than all other children my age, too small, too skinny, hardly the picture of an Aesir warrior – especially when one looked to Thor. Oh, of course he defended me, when he remembered, or when it was not amusing, or when he saw – but children are not kind, and they learn quickly that difference and weakness make for a good target." His mouth curved in a thin, bitter smile. "And then – run to Thor and look even more the weakling? Or worse, to Frigga? I had my pride."

"You don't need to-"

"So I took another route," Loki went on, almost over him. "I knew I had magic. Its use in combat was hardly encouraged – the opposite – but what use had I for such things? I had a weapon they did not. I honed it. I trained it. And the next time the little pack of child-wolves came for me, I used it." The planes of Loki's face were hard. Steve had that feeling again, of humming power too nearby, but he didn't pull back. Made himself hold his ground. "They hit me. I set horrible beasts before their eyes, vivid as truth, ravening for blood. Most scattered. Their leader tripped and fell; I broke his nose and left him there to scream. The casting did not wear off for five hours. I was told later the healers were not sure he would keep his sanity." There was not a flicker of emotion in Loki's voice. Steve's stomach clenched.

"They did not," Loki said, leaning back, at last, "try to attack me again. Not so directly. Oh, in other ways…but not directly. Never again." He picked up his tea. "That, Captain, is the sort of creature you have chosen to take up with."

Steve's first, instinctive reaction was one of revulsion, horror. He wanted to stand up and leave, or yell at Loki, or demand to know if he'd ever felt guilty for doing it, but-

Why tell me this? It bothered him, that question. Loki had to know how he would react, how he would feel about that kind of retaliation. So why say it? What had led from Steve talking about the serum and how it had changed him to…that? He forced his hands to stay in his lap, though they were clenched, tried to think of anything Thor had ever said about his childhood. Asgard was a different place, literally a universe away.

"What did they do to you?" he asked, finally, slowly. Loki blinked, momentary surprise flickering over the expression of faint, smug satisfaction.

"Beg pardon?"

"What did they do to you?" Steve repeated. "The – group of kids, I mean."

"Does it matter?" Loki was giving him an odd look, and Steve began to feel a little bit better, a touch more sure of himself.

"I don't know," Steve said. "It's just…what you told me sounds pretty extreme for some children pushing someone around. But I guess I don't know what hazing on Asgard looks like. And you're not wrong. Children can be pretty nasty."

Loki's eyes narrowed, and then his face relaxed. The smile was so clearly false it almost made Steve wince. "Surely you are not going to argue that they deserved it."

"No," Steve said, at once. "I'm just trying to get a sense of context, I guess." And try to figure out why you're so invested in proving to me that you're Bad all the way through.

Loki was giving him a look like he was trying to see through Steve's skin and make out the workings underneath. "It was hardly anything unusual."

"What about you?" Steve pressed. "Did you get caught? Punished?"

"Oh, yes," Loki said, seeming to relax again. "Of course. It was obvious enough. I was a prince, though – my punishment was hardly a slap on the wrist."

"Then I guess it wasn't that big a deal," Steve said, slowly, and the relaxation melted away.

"Are you attempting to defend my behavior?" Loki's tone dripped with mockery. Steve met his eyes levelly.

"No," he said. "It sounds to me like you went too far. But I think you know that. And I don't think it was as bad as you want me to think it was. And I'm not going to – accept your spin on it."

"My spin?" Loki's voice was almost sharp enough to cut.

" I don't think anyone's just – a bad person all the way through. Even you." Steve kept his gaze and voice level. "You know that. And you keep telling me that you are, and I can't figure why, and I guess the only thing I can think of is that you're trying to drive me off so you don't have to deal with the fact that you might actually have to – I don't know, acknowledge that you can choose to be better than you have been."

Loki's expression flickered curiously. "Don't be absurd."

"I don't know that I am being absurd," Steve said, slowly. "I think I'm just…being realistic. Cause you're not exactly…you saved my life."

"You make too much of a moment's whim," Loki said. Steve looked down at his half-drained coffee.

"Maybe I do," he said finally, quietly. "I don't know. I guess I can't know, really. But if it's worth anything…like I said. I don't believe anyone's completely evil, or can't change."

Silence. "You are a fool," Loki said, at length, but without vehemence. "A charming one, but a fool nonetheless."

"Yeah," Steve said, picking up his spoon and stirring his coffee. "So I've been told."

There was another long silence. Steve tried not to fidget. "You are a good man, Captain Rogers," Loki said, and there was something strange in his voice, almost wistful. "It's a pity you were not born Aesir. They might be better for it."

And he was gone again, leaving Steve sitting alone in a coffee shop, feeling strangely melancholy.

~.~

Steve woke up with a disorienting start. "Hush," he heard, in Loki's voice, very nearby. "Don't shout. I must speak with you." Steve blinked, confused and taken aback. He hadn't heard from Loki since his sudden departure from their coffee, and for him to come now…

"Loki?"

"Do not…" There was a sharp note in Loki's voice, but he broke off quickly. Steve heard him move away and sat up slowly, fumbling for a light.

"Is something…has something happened?" He found the switch and blinked in the sudden wash of light. Loki looked unharmed – Steve felt a strange rush of relief – but he was pacing, steps jerky, posture taut. Silence. "Loki…"

"I have come to warn you," Loki said suddenly.

Steve's whole body tensed. "Warn me of what?" He tried to get a look at Loki's face, but it was turned away. "Warn me of what," he repeated, more insistently. Loki turned sharply, his expression tight.

"An attack," he said, "is…planned. Doom – intends to eliminate you. An attack in force in two days time."

Steve fell still. "You're certain."

"I am." Loki shifted, not quite fidgeting. Steve scrutinized his face, trying to read it. Loki looked, he realized, almost anxious – not just tense, but nervous. He felt a strange, heavy disquiet and a deepening worry. He took a deep breath. "How did you-"

"Does it matter?" Loki's voice was suddenly sharp.

Steve tried to catch Loki's eye, but his gaze skated away. "Does it?"

"I am not working with him and have no part in this plan, if that is what you want to hear."

"It's not about what I want to hear," Steve said, keeping his voice level. Loki's unease, so strikingly obvious, made his stomach churn. "How do you know about this?"

Loki's pacing increased in speed. "You have no right to judge me for what I have done out of necessity. I have not exactly had a plethora of options, none of them ideal, and to rely on one slender hope would be simple folly-"

Steve leaned forward. "Answer me, Loki. If you're not working with Doom-"

Loki whirled on his heel. "Do you think that I have been wholly idle? I do not lack for enemies, Captain, and I have few doubts that this space of quiet will end. When it ends I had hoped not to be without allies."

Steve jerked. "And you went to Doom?" What he felt, he realized, was betrayal. As though he'd expected something else, though he wasn't sure what.

"Why so surprised?" Loki said, and the note of bitterness in his voice startled Steve. "Who was I supposed to seek out? I can hardly expect virtuous pillars of morality to ally themselves with me – not without a very high price. I am not you, and I cannot afford to be selective. Doom had power and ambition. He seemed a likely candidate, but as my presence here must make clear-"

"And you didn't think to come to me?" Steve burst out, before he could hold it in, and for a moment Loki's expression was something raw, awful, naked.

Then it slammed closed. "Conversing with you is pleasant enough. I doubted – even if I wished to beg – that your boundless compassion would extend so far as to defend such as me if it came to battle, even against your own."

"Are you planning to – cause trouble for us?" Steve demanded. "cause if you aren't-"

"You don't think the others will feel less generous?" Loki's voice rose sharply. "How many of yours would happily sit back and watch me fall – if not hasten that outcome themselves?" His head jerked to the side. "This is irrelevant. Take my warning or do not, I am not here to answer to you."

"Why," Steve demanded. Loki's eyes cut to him.

"Beg pardon?"

"If you don't think – as you keep saying – that we're any good to you," Steve said flatly, "why throw this alliance of yours away to warn us – warn me?" He didn't take his eyes off Loki. Come on, he thought fervently.

"Call it a whim," Loki almost snapped.

"I won't," Steve said stubbornly. "I'm not letting you off the hook that easy."

"What do you expect me to say?" Loki's voice was edged and brittle. "Do you think this is some sort of sentimental fondness?" He weighted that word with biting mockery. Steve held his ground.

"Is it?" Steve pressed.

"Don't be a fool," Loki said, almost a snarl.

"Then why?"

He could almost see Loki struggling. Fighting with himself, he thought, trying not to admit – or maybe not even aware. Maybe until just now he'd been able to tell himself – (or maybe it was Steve that was telling himself, making himself believe there was something there that wasn't.)

"I changed my mind," Loki said, voice clipped, sharp. "Doom is no longer suitable. I need not explain myself to you."

"If you weren't fighting us," Steve said quietly. "We could help."

Loki's teeth bared. "I am not going to beg," he said, voice almost vibrating.

"Did I say you needed to?"

Loki turned sharply away. "What is it you seek from me? I have given you a warning of a threat to yourself and your friends. Is not all else irrelevant to you?"

"You made it relevant to me," Steve said firmly. "When you started talking to me, when you approached me. Loki…"

Loki didn't turn. His back was to Steve and his shoulders were up by his ears. "I have no wish to be beholden to you."

"But you're willing to be beholden to Doctor Doom?" Silence. "Loki?"

"I don't want your pity!" Loki's voice rose sharply. "I will not have you look on me with disdain, I will not be less than I already am in your eyes – than I have already made myself-"

"That's not what I think." Steve stood up jerkily. "Don't tell me – it doesn't work that way, you can't expect me to – pick a side, Loki! You can't keep flirting with both. What do you want?"

Then, finally, Loki turned. Slow and deliberate, eyes blazing. "Pick a side? I have, Captain. Mine. What other is there for me? If I do not – there is no one else who will. You will help, you say. How can I trust that, how can I-" he cut off.

Steve took a deep breath. "You can trust me," he said quietly.

Loki's eyes cut away. "You have a warning. Take it or do not. I do not wish…"

"I don't think less of you," Steve interrupted. Silence, but Loki wasn't gone. "For any of…I don't. I want you to know that. I wouldn't judge you for – that." More silence. "And if you did come to me…I wouldn't think less of you for that, either." Loki's shoulders twitched slightly.

"I will think less of myself," Loki said, barely audible. Steve held very still, as if if he moved something would tip and be lost. Almost holding his breath.

Come on, he thought, just, and wasn't sure where that sentence ended.

"Do what you will," Loki said, his voice toneless. "I care not."

And he was gone.

Steve slumped. You did your best, he told himself. Maybe it'll still…

It still felt like failure. Even as he reached for his communicator to alert the others, it still felt like he'd lost.