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~JM

Tony sat down at the restaurant table, his phone in hand and scrolling through the abridged business proposal Pepper had sent him. The restaurant was dimly lit with large overhanging chandeliers and filled with the quiet chatter of patrons. It was all a bit stuffy for the billionaire. He wasn't keen on the place but had promised Pepper he would meet with a potential investor for one of his charity programs. As it had happened, he was already close by the designated meeting place and decided on a drink before he was bored with small talk.

"Excuse me," he heard the high-pitched voice of an elderly woman say from behind him. "But did you know that you look remarkably similar to the man from the attack on the city, the one who was flying overhead."

Tony shifted in his seat, arm thrown over the back. He turned his head to look back and opened his mouth to reply but soon realized that she wasn't talking to him. The lady was speaking to a waiter who had his back to Stark. All the billionaire saw was a tall thin frame and close cropped, slightly curled black hair that had been brushed back. The waiter was taller than all the Avengers but Thor and built nothing like any of them. Tony thought perhaps it was just something in the face or that the old lady was thinking of a misplaced police officer.

The waiter gave a soft laugh. "You're not the first to tell me so. It is an unfortunate resemblance but the only one we share in common, I think."

It was the English accent that sent a sneaking suspicion crawling down Tony's spine. But he tamped it down and went back to his phone.

"Thank goodness," the lady said. "You must get a dozen of people pestering you about it. Such awful business." She tutted.

"Only a few," the waiter replied. "And it was absolutely tragic, I agree. Now, is that everything for tonight?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry to have stopped you."

"It's no trouble at all."

Tony felt the waiter move to stand beside his table, and when he looked up his heart stopped. He was staring up at a pair of sea-green eyes that resembled stained glass windows and a familiar face that was far less hungry and lean than last he saw it.

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony blinked and he realized Loki—the waiter had been talking.

"Are you alright?" the waiter asked. "Can I get you a glass of water?"

"No, can you give me a minute?"

Loki-the waiter gave an easy smile. "Of course."

But as this man that so resembled Loki began to walk away, Tony said, "wait."

The man turned around and, when Tony asked for his name, he replied, "Freddie."

As soon as he left, Stark took up his phone again and held it to his ear after dialing a familiar number.

"Hey, Pep, I need you to cancel the meeting."

"Tony, no," she cried incredulously. "You can't keep skipping meetings. You have to meet with him. It'll only take an hour."

"Then you come. You're better at this anyway," Tony whispered as he kept an eye on 'Freddie'. "Something's come up."

There was a beat of silence before she asked, "What's her name?"

"Freddie," he replied easily.

"Freddie like Winifred or…"

"Frederick. Maybe Manfred. But it's definitely Freddie."

He could hear her take the phone away long enough to make a noise of frustration before she said, "I can't fill in for you just because you decide to try and sleep half the men in New York now."

"I feel like you're judging me."

"I'm not—"

"I still have standards, you know."

"Tony, I'm not judging."

He went on as if she never spoke. "I don't like to be judged, Pep," he tried to sound hurt. "Besides, can't I sleep with whoever I want without fear that my friends will ostracize me?"

"No one's—you know what? Fine." Pepper gave a huff of resignation. "I'll do it but you owe me."

Tony couldn't suppress a grin. "Have I ever told you what a vision of open-mindedness you are?"

Freddie came back as Stark hung up and gave the billionaire a genuinely sincere smile. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Yeah, uh, what time do you get off?" Tony asked with a slightly strained smile.

"Um, sorry, why do you ask?"

"Just curious. Have you been here long?"

Freddie looked a bit confused. "Here, Sir?"

"New York. America."

"About a month. I'm sorry, I don't—"

"So, how'd you get here, Loki?" Stark asked with his most innocent expression.

Freddie blinked a few times. "If you'd like, I can get you another waiter."

"No," Tony replied as he leaned back in his chair to seem more relaxed. "It looks like my dinner date has been cancelled." He rose to his feet, watching as the other stepped back politely to give him space. "I was hoping you'd fill that opening."

A sudden blush reddened Freddie's ears and colored his cheeks. "I—I'm sorry—"

"You know that's the third time you've apologized."

"Sorry. It's a habit, I suppose.

Tony reached in his pocket and pulled out a business card, writing his number on the back before he handed it to the other. "I really would like to get to know you better. Platonically, if you want," he added at the other's look of hesitation.

The waiter looked at the card, running his thumb over it before he looked back up at the billionaire with genuine curiosity. "Why me?" His eyebrow lifted in question, his whole expression lighter than Tony remembered Loki's being.

"Because I'm interested. I find you interesting."

"I'm just a wa—" A spark of understanding came to the cerulean eyes with a hint of disappointment in the small smile playing on his lips. "It's because I look like that man that attacked the city." He handed the card back with a touch of unhappiness. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Stark, but I am just a man."

And maybe he was. Maybe this man really did have the misfortunate to look remarkably similar to a particular god of mischief. Even as Tony thought this, he did not hesitate to slip a small tracking device into the pocket of Freddie's trousers as he stepped close to shake his hand.

The billionaire sat in his car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he watched the restaurant. From his seat, he could see Pepper entering and felt a small amount of relief he dodged another boring meeting. It was maybe an hour before she walked out with an older, rotund gentleman in a well-tailored suit. Another hour went by before the Loki look-alike exited with only a thin jacket against the winter chill. But Freddie didn't get into a car. He walked for a bit and Stark waited until he was out of sight before he drove off in the opposite direction.

Stark know the ins and outs of the streets like he knew every wire and chemical balance of his Arc Reactor. He went around until he got to the street Freddie was on so he was on the opposite side when he came to a stop.

"Hey, Freddie, right?" Tony asked as he rolled down his window.

The waiter narrowed his eyes in the gloom and, looking both ways, came up to bend slightly to look at Tony. "One would think that you're stalking me, Mr. Stark."

"Tony, please." Stark grinned.

Freddie shook his head with an endearing smile. "While I'm flattered Iron Man is following—"

"Following?" The billionaire did his best to look hurt. "I was just driving around. My date cancelled remember?"

The waiter gave a knowing look. "So to what do I owe the honor of you stopping where I just happen to be walking?"

"It's cold out. Why don't I give you a lift?"

"I don't—"

"Look, it's cold. Call it an apology for earlier."

Freddie sighed. "You're very persistent." He hunched his shoulders as a cold wind blew and his eyes gave the passenger seat a brief glance.

Tony shifted and caught the other's gaze. "Look, my gas is going so you can let me give you a lift or I can go grab some hotdogs off a cart down the street."

At the mention of food, Freddie's stomach gave a long growl and his cheeks reddened.

"Or," Tony continued, "you can take me up on that offer to be my dinner date."

Another gust of wind seemed to make up the other's mind. "I don't suppose you would need to put me in a tub of ice and sell my organs on the black market," he murmured.

"Nope. I'll just add them to my Hannibal collection," Tony quipped with a grin. "So, dinner then?" He asked as Freddie slipped into the passenger seat.

"I don't want to be a bother."

Stark looked at him with mild amusement. "We just got out of a five star restaurant so that's obviously not your thing. What would you like? Drive-thru, bar, shawarma?"

"Um…" Freddie looked nervous as he rubbed his palms on his thighs. "Would you mind if we got something from the shop down the street?"

"Tell me where to go." Tony put the car in drive.

Freddie gave him directions and made him stop in front of a tiny hole in the wall. There was no sign, just a narrow door jammed between a large bakery and a consignment store. The billionaire leaned over, nearly on Freddie's lap as he looked out the window, nose wrinkled as he looked for something to signify the existence of a restaurant.

"This is a restaurant?" he questioned.

"Sort of. Would you like to come in and see what they have?"

"Nah," Tony handed him a card. "I'll have whatever you're having."

The blush came back to color the tips of the waiter's ears. "It's alright, I've got it."

"I insist. I'm not letting you pay for it, and no, you can not say otherwise."

"You're really just going to hand me your card?"

"Would you like my wallet?" Tony asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Freddie sighed and left with the card, nearly twisting sideways to enter into the small door. And while he was gone, Tony thought to himself that this was perhaps the most insane and reckless plan that he ever had. Except it wasn't a plan. There was just a vague sense of curiosity that was similar to poking a sleeping bear. For some strange reason, Tony had no problem driving around with what may or may not be a homicidal maniac with a penchant for world domination. But if he went to Fury, then this potentially harmless Loki look-alike in all probability gets interrogated. It didn't seem right. Why would Loki-if-Loki work at a restaurant Tony hardly went to?

"Here we are." Freddie came back with bursting take out containers in bags and the car was instantly filled with the heavy robust smell of Caribbean cuisine.

"You didn't use the card, did you?"

"I, uh…how did you know?"

"Because you moved your wallet. It was in your jacket, now your pocket." Tony gave a sad shake of his head in feigned disappointment as Freddie handed his card back. "What did you get?"

The other man looked apologetic. "I don't know if you like it."

"Listen, as long as you didn't get half-developed goose eggs, I think I'm good."

Freddie bit his lip nervously. "Oh, I thought you'd enjoy them. I'm sorry."

Tony look slightly horrified as he peered cautiously in to the bag. "You didn't…?"

"Of course not." Freddie grinned mischievously. "I don't think I've ever seen balut here. No, I got rice, fried plantains, and…I'm sorry, do you eat pork?"

"If you apologize one more time," Tony warned humorously with a stare.

"Sor—Ok."

"Yes, I eat pork."

Freddie absentmindedly tapped his thumb against the bag. "There's not really a table…"

"I'm alright going back to your place."

The waiter seemed to nearly choke on air. "My…my place? I don't—"

"I was going to drop you off there anyway."

Seeming to steel his nerves, Freddie took a breath and nodded once. "Alright then. I suppose if you're so keen on it."

They pulled up in front of an old apartment building with a rusted, broken security fence and an old door with peeling faded red paint.

"I really don't think you should leave you car out here," Freddie looked apologetic as he took his lower lip between his teeth and stared at the barely lit street. "They tend to steal a lot of cars around here."

"If they can manage it then they can have it."

Giving a sigh of long enduring patience, Freddie got out the car and led the way through the door, up a narrow staircase that was filled with the faint scent of cigarette smoke. He stopped on the fourth floor and dug in his jacket pocket to produce a small key.

"It's not really all that clean," he said before he opened the door. But at Tony's stare of expectation and slight smile, he opened the door with a faint creak. He let Tony enter first and closed the door.

Tony stepped in the center of the tiny kitchen space, hands shoved in his pockets. "I like it."