Chapter Text
The sound of his phone ringing was the first thing he became aware of as he awoke. The fact that he smelled off, and that his back and neck hurt from the way he had slept were the second and third things respectively.
The phone rang on and he decided it was probably about time for him to have gotten up anyway. He gave himself some time to stretch and re-accustom his eyes to the light of the morning, before he got down on the floor to find the phone he had remembered putting down the night before.
He found it a foot or so underneath the couch he had slept so poorly on, and reached for it to answer before whoever was on the line decided to give up. As he picked it up, he looked at the screen and made a face of disappointment at the name flashing across the screen.
Loki answered it as he stood up off the floor and headed towards his bedroom. “Hang on, I’m getting my laptop,” he said to the person on the other end without so much as a greeting.
“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” came the sarcastic, equally unfriendly reply.
He grabbed his laptop and flipped it open. He fixed his hair as he caught sight of his reflection on the screen, and waited as the video chat program finished logging in. Immediately, he accepted the invitation to the video call, and was greeted by the irritatingly smug face of one Tony Stark, toast of the New York City elite, eternal thorn on the collective side of the New York City Government, owner and CEO of New York's largest Publishing Company, and editor-in-chief of their flagship magazine, Reactor. Most importantly though, he was Loki's boss and alleged best friend.
“Yeesh, you look like shit,” Tony said, unsympathetic. “Did you sleep on your rug again?” Loki did not dignify his statement with a reply.
“Good morning, Pepper,” he greeted instead. A woman with red hair entered the frame from the left of Tony, and effectively pushed him out of the way to take his place in the center of the screen. Tony looked offended as the two ignored him and continued the conversation without him.
“Good morning, Loki.” She smiled back at him, casually keeping Tony at bay, despite his protests. “You look like you enjoyed Victor’s party.” Her tone, though teasing, was much friendlier than Tony’s.
Loki could not help but smile back, and continue on in equally playful banter. Besides, he knew not acknowledging Tony only irritated him more, and Loki did so very much enjoy that. “Not as much as you’d think,” he answered woefully. “Am I correct to assume you’re going to need a write up on it now?”
“Before lunch, if you please.” She smiled, pleased with his straightforwardness. “I know we don’t usually ask for it until 4, but a couple of other sites have put theirs up already, and as much as Tony hates him-“
“-I don’t hate him. He’s just too far beneath me for me to properly care about- “
“-Victor is still very much a hot topic,” Pepper finished, swatting Tony scoldingly on the shoulder as she did.
Loki didn’t hold back his amusement. “Not a problem, Ms. Potts.” He heard the doorbell go off, and while it struck him as odd that there’d be someone at his door at all, he got up to answer it, taking the laptop with him as he went. “I’ll send it to you within an hour or so.”
He put the laptop down by the table right beside the door, and excused himself from the conversation for a moment as he opened the door.
“Mr. Odinson?” a deliveryman inquired, reading his name off of a clipboard.
“Good morning.” Loki confirmed.
The deliveryman wheeled in a large crate with holes that looked to be dripping water at the very bottom. “This is for you. The delivery fee has been paid for by Mr. Von Doom,” the courier explained.
Loki’s eyes grew wide as he realized what the contents of the crate were likely to be. His state of shock was interrupted when the deliveryman passed the clipboard his way and asked him to sign on the appropriate areas. Frozen in shock, Loki just looked from the crate to the man to the crate again. “Is that...?” he couldn’t even bring himself to finish the question.
The courier misunderstood and took Loki’s words as a cue to open the crate. Handing Loki the clipboard to hold, he undid the latches and revealed exactly what Loki was expecting to see.
Inside was a small blue penguin, warily standing in one of the corners of the crate. He looked up at the humans, eying them with what could only be suspicion. The courier paid no attention to the bird, though Loki found he couldn’t pull his eyes away.
“Look, I’m going to need you to sign this now,” the man repeated, tapping the space on the papers, which had been allocated for Loki’s signature.
At a loss for words and knowing that it would be futile to argue with the courier (even if he did, he didn’t even know where he’d begin!) he signed the form and watched in disbelief as the man thanked him and left. He was still expecting someone to just pop out of nowhere and tell him it was all just a joke.
But when nothing came, Loki just looked back down at the small creature and tried to accept reality.
Given their limited view of the scene, the two on the video chat spoke up, wanting to know what was going on.
Loki didn’t know what he could tell them; so instead, he cautiously reached into the box and awkwardly attempted to pick the bird up to free him from the crate. It was a challenge at first because he honestly had no idea how one even went about carrying penguins, and this one was not particularly keen on being carried either.
After a few moments and a lot of annoying commentary from Tony who still wanted to know what was going on, he lifted the blue bird out of the crate for Tony and Pepper to see.
“Oh my god,” he heard Pepper say in surprise.
“Loki, that is one bizarre looking dog.” That one was Tony, being the opposite of helpful.
Loki held the bird up to examine him, almost unable to grasp that what he was holding was a real, living animal. When the bird panicked, Loki had to be extremely careful not to drop it or hurt it. He put it down on the ground and watched it scurry off to hide under the cabinet a few feet away.
“I’ll call you back,” he told the two as he quickly folded the laptop closed, not giving Tony a chance to argue.
He ran into his bedroom to grab his phone and dial Darcy’s number as fast as he could. He inspected the crate as he impatiently waited for her to pick up, part of him wishing he’d find a pamphlet or some sort of instruction manual to tell him what the hell he was supposed to do with this thing.
He was visibly upset when the crate didn’t give him any information other than some random dates, numbers, and the words ‘Oamaru, New Zealand’, ‘Clint Barton’ and ‘Fairy Blue Penguin’. It didn’t improve his mood when Darcy didn’t pick up either. The call transferred to her voice mail, and Loki was tempted to leave a scathing message for her to return to, but figured it would just be in vain.
He gave up and walked up to the cabinet, dropping to the floor to look underneath it. The Penguin was still there, huddled far from the edge in a protective-looking position. “Hello, penguin,” Loki dumbly said, unsure of what exactly he was doing or what he hoped to achieve by doing it. “Come here, won’t you?” He tapped the ground in front of him, lamely trying to lure it out.
If anything, his tapping threatened the penguin into an even more defensive curl. Just his luck.
Loki was at a total loss. How did Past-Loki ever allow Darcy to convince him that this penguin business could ever possibly be a walk in the park?
He got up to look at the crate again. Oamaru, New Zealand, Clint Barton, Fairy Blue Penguin. That’s all the information the darned thing would give him. If he was completely honest, he’s surprised with himself and his calm, given the situation. True, he wanted nothing more than to shove the bird back in the box and have it shipped right back to where it came from, but he was still in the right frame of mind to recognize that that was a terrible, terrible idea. Besides, he didn't actually know where exactly it was this bird came from.
Needing to sort out his priorities, Loki set the crate down beside the dresser to its side. He was hoping maybe that the bird would find the familiarity of the crate appealing or safe, and waddle back in, though he knew it was a long shot.
He got his laptop and sat down on the floor in front of the crate and dresser. He still had work to do, and it made sense to get as much of it out of the way early on, so he’d have one less matter to worry about later; when things stood the chance of getting much, much worse.
It was difficult to work, honestly. Both because he could not really take his mind off the live blue bird hiding under his furniture, and because he had honestly spent a lot of Victor’s party NOT paying attention to Victor’s party. It wasn’t because it was terrible—he probably would have still been spot on if he wrote it was the nicest party that’d been thrown in a long while—but quite frankly, Loki did not like the company Victor kept, and he was still unsure of whether or not he even liked Victor.
Still, it was his job, and whether or not he actually approved, they were supposed to be his kind of people. So he buckled down and did his best to recall every element of the evening that Victor had probably spent a small fortune to acquire; everything from the entertainment to the food was consistent with Victor’s extremely demanding tastes.
He couldn't write about the back room attractions, not that he even wanted to. There had always been an unspoken rule about what happened in the more intimate parts of these social gatherings, which weren't usually the sort of thing you disclosed to the public.
He glanced at the empty crate and sighed to himself. Never was that unspoken rule more beneficial to him than it was now. Generally, he didn't care one way or the other, but he did not feel up to being the subject of gossip or intrigue because of Victor's little gift.
True to his word, Loki's article was quite favourable. He didn't lie about anything, to the delight of his already heavy conscience. If there was anything questionable, it would have been how much Loki made it sound like he had enjoyed himself. Not that that was even a problem. Tony had always told him that he liked that about Loki; he wasn't prone to falling victim to the glittering allure of these high society types.
Writing calmed him down slightly. He was thankful for the opportunity to catch his breath, if only for a moment. It only lasted as long as his article did, but he had relaxed enough to keep from stumbling over himself, and he could now consider this penguin business with a better state of mind.
Determined to do it right, Loki put his laptop away once again, and bent over to try another hand at luring the little blue penguin out.
Only, there was no longer anything under the dresser.
Filled with renewed panic, Loki started frantically looking under all the crawlable spaces in close proximity. With each piece of penguin-free furniture, Loki’s felt the dread further pooling in his stomach. He couldn’t possibly lose a live penguin in his home, could he? Or even worse, he could find it meeting an early end because of one thing or another. There was no way he was going to have such a thing on his conscience.
The sudden sharp sound of metal crashing to the floor made Loki jump. He leapt to his feet and headed for the kitchen, hoping to find a few dented appliances at worst. The penguin in one piece, most preferably.
There was a kettle on the ground, but that was all. Luckily, he noted, that it had not been in use. There was, however, still no sign of the penguin. With caution in his step, Loki circled the room, eyes scanning the area in trepidation. A flap of blue caught his eye, before it disappeared behind the island in the center of the room.
As slowly and silently as he could manage, he approached the counter corner. He made eye contact with the bird as soon as he peered over the island top towards the floor.
The little blue thing did not look frightened of him, he observed, which was probably for the better in this situation. “Hello again,” he tried.
It was not as if Loki expected the penguin to reply to him, but some form of acknowledgement would have been nice. Instead the bird just continued looking at him.
“I’m going to pick you up now,” Loki began, as if asking it for permission. He raised both hands in a defensive position before gently reaching down to pick the bird up. Now, Loki knew that an animal like this penguin probably did not understand the gesture at all; he was trying his best to just look as unthreatening to the bird as possible.
All went well as he touched the penguin, and he lifted him off the ground without any hassle. Loki held his breath, and the determination to not startle the bird was enough to keep his movements controlled. For a second, Loki thought he’d gotten the hang of this whole penguin-handling business. His illusions were shattered when the bird began squirming and pecking at him.
Sudden panic took over him, and he had to think quickly before he ended up doing something he would regret. He ran towards the bedroom, hands stiffening as he braced himself through the bird's attacks. His mind was a mess of 'Don't drop him' and 'Don't squeeze him' and he was amazed he didn’t end up accidentally doing both.
Somehow, the brightest idea that occurred to him was to head towards his bed so he could drop the penguin there- surely, he couldn't hurt himself falling into the mattress. It took so much self control for Loki not to fling the bird onto the bed after a particularly sharp nip, but he managed to keep to his goal, and set the little blue thing down as gently as the situation allowed.
The penguin landed on his behind and scrambled to get steady footing on the bed he was placed on.
The unfamiliar terrain must have scared him, because he started lying on his belly instead of standing, unwilling to lift his body off the ground in fear of falling.
It was an odd sight; the penguin was using his legs to propel himself forward, although the bed did not make the task easy for him. He eventually found the edge of the blanket and a crevasse created by two pillows, and used it as his temporary sanctuary.
Loki didn't know why he was so eager to duck for cover though. Between the two of them, it wasn’t the little thing who had been injured within the span of the hour they'd been together.
As the penguin hid himself, Loki couldn't exactly see him anymore, but for some strange reason, he was still sure he was watching him. Knowing there was nothing else he could do right now that would make the penguin warm up to him, he got his laptop once more and started looking up any information he could find on Little Blue Penguins.
A pop-up menu and Tony's name appeared on his screen not long after. Loki knew everything Tony was likely to say or do, so he clicked 'reject' on the video chat request, and tried logging out of his chat client. Before he could do so, however, another window with Tony's profile appeared. "Come on, baby, don't shut me out," came Tony's voice through his speakers.
"Why do you send me requests like you actually care if I give you permission or not? We both know you're not going to let me ignore you anyway," Loki said as he gave up on closing the chat, and just resumed searching for penguin-related information.
Tony tisked. "You make it sound like I force myself on you,” he pretended to sound hurt.
Loki let out an incredulously sarcastic “hah" and left it at that.
"You know you like it anyway," Tony teased, once again being the exact opposite of helpful. "Also, you're probably going to want to look into better search words, because yikes--"
"Tony," Loki warned. "Shut up."
"Food, man," he said cutting to the chase. "The first thing you oughta get the sucker is a snack or something."
At this moment, Loki was exceedingly grateful that he only had Tony on voice call and not on video, because he'd have hated to see Tony's reaction to the flustered face he was making right now. To be one-upped by Tony Stark was not something he enjoyed- even if the man was a genius in disguise.
Fishing out his phone from his pocket, he called up the building's front desk in hopes of asking for a favor.
The other end picked up. "Mohawk Atelier, good mornin--"
"Yes, good morning, Loki Odinson, Penthouse," he introduced himself in a rush. "Sorry, but I'm in desperate need of some fresh fish, don't ask, it's an emergency, do you think you could-?"
"Right away, sir," the voice answered pleasantly. "I'll have it brought to your door as soon as possible."
Loki thought he could sob in relief at how accommodating his building manager was. "Thank you," he said as he put down the phone.
Tony chose that moment to speak up yet again, and gave his unsolicited comment on everything.
"You really are going to need to learn how to feed him. Maybe buy an aquarium or have some sorta fish delivery service or something. Oh, and the salinity of your pool water's gotta be just right, you can't leave the thing with just any chlorine-filled water. And what about housing? Dang, do you even have a permit to keep this thing--?"
"I KNOW TONY, SHUT UP." Loki had had enough of his unhelpful nagging, and he didn’t hesitate to let Stark know. Despite all their antagonistic banter, it was very rare for Loki to use such a forceful and stern voice with Tony.
There was a moment of tense silence as Tony did indeed stop talking. Loki felt a bit guilty for taking his frustration out on Tony when he knew the other meant nothing by it, despite how he came off. But truth be told, he was really in no mood to be dealing with Tony, and tried to just ignore him.
But like any quick-witted reluctant-best-friend would, Tony quickly changed his game plan without outright drawing attention to it. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's completely crazy," he continued, as if pretending he was unaffected by Loki's outburst. "And too much of a migraine too, if you ask me. But, hell, if anyone can find a way to get through a totally batshit insane situation like that, I suppose it could be you." That was as supportive as the likes of Tony Stark could muster. "Well, let's be real, it'd be me first, but you could come a close second. Or third. There's still Pepper after all--"
It was only then that Loki decided to just mute his laptop to kill Tony's babbling.
He spent the next half hour making calls to various places in attempts to make arrangements for a water filtration system for his pool, find somewhere he could make a deal with to keep the supply of fish coming, figure out what kind of housing and other supplies he would have needed to keep the bird well taken care of. It's after the fifth unsuccessful conversation that Loki's started to feel hopeless again.
He glanced at the stack of pillows the penguin had taken refuge under. He's thankful for the little peek of blue that assured him the penguin is still there, and the very subtle movements that told him it's still alive as well. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment and unease.
He reached for his phone again and had another go at calling Darcy. Once again, there's no reply and he was switched to voicemail. This time, he left her a message.
"I don't know how you talked me into doing this," he said dejectedly. "I don't think I can do it, Darcy. What was I thinking? I can't take care of this penguin. The only person I know how to look after is myself." The last came in an almost bitter admission. He put the phone down, not wanting to say any more.
Although he knew that guilt tripping Darcy was a surefire way to get her to call him back, and that he could claim that he had done so to be manipulative, it was almost painfully obvious that Loki meant every word he said.
Almost immediately after, his phone began ringing. Loki was fairly impressed with his powers of prediction and made a mental note to not overuse the tactic lest it become ineffective. "Thank god, I was beginning to think you'd never get back to me," he breathed in relief.
"From the sound of it, I’m not who you were expecting, brother," came a voice from the other end of the line that was most certainly NOT Darcy Lewis.
Loki tensed. “Thor,” he said curtly, almost unwilling to believe it was him. Stupid, stupid. How had he been too absentminded to not have looked at the display screen before he picked up?
"Loki," Thor greeted back. "You have been very difficult to get a hold of." The tone of Thor's voice sounded unhappy but light. Loki did not really care how his brother truly felt about his avoidance, but if Thor was willing to feign concern, he felt obligated to do the same.
He didn’t even ask how he got his number. Thor probably wouldn’t have told him the truth anyway. "Apologies, Thor. I have been exceedingly busy. Work and all that. In fact, I was expecting a very important call right now, so if you wouldn't mind..."
"Wait Loki, I just wish for a moment to speak with you--"
"And I will call you back as soon as I can, brother, but as I said, I haven’t the time right now.” As if on cue, the doorbell went off and Loki could not be more thankful for the timing. "Ah, and that sounds like the company I’ve been expecting. As I said, perhaps next time, Thor."
“Lok—“ Loki dropped the call before he can hear the rest of Thor's objection. Tucking his laptop under his arm and his phone in his pocket, he headed for the door.
The sight of the poker-faced, well-dressed gentleman at his door might have worried Loki, should he not have grown used to seeing this same fellow everyday as he arrived and left his building.
"The fish you requested, sir." He nodded, holding up two bags. "I didn’t know what kind you needed so I got a little bit of everything.”
"You are a lifesaver,” Loki sighed appreciatively. The man smiled politely in the same reserved manner Loki had become accustomed to seeing daily.
He took both bags with a bit of difficulty because of the laptop he still had in one arm. The other man offered to help, but Loki insisted that he was all right and could handle it on his own.
Loki thanked him again and the man said to think nothing of it. "If there's anything else you need, sir, don't hesitate to let me know," he assured Loki. "I hope they are to Mr. Barton's enjoyment.” His gaze drifted down to the floor behind Loki and for a moment, Loki was confused.
"What?" His brows furrowed before he turned around to follow the other man's line of vision to find that the penguin had come out of his make-shift fortress, and was watching them with cautious interest.
"My apologies." His attention was brought back to the other man ready to depart. "I had assumed Clint Barton was his name since that was the only other information the courier had left about your delivery at the front desk."
Loki glanced at the penguin one more time before thanking him for the last time, briefly exchanging pleasantries before they went their separate ways. Loki headed for the bathroom in a bit of a rush after closing his front door.
He dropped the two heavy bags of fish into the tub and his laptop down on the nearest dry surface. He didn't need to look around to know that the penguin- Clint Barton as his friendly building manager thought he was named- was following closely behind. The bird was like a ninja, true enough, and it was hard to know exactly where he was without seeing him, but Loki was confident Clint Barton wasn't far behind.
He rolled his sleeves up and started unloading the fish into the tub. From his peripheral vision, he could see a little blue head trying to peer into the tub.
He finishes dropping all the assorted types of fish into the tub and put the plastic aside. Observing the bird subtly from a few steps away, he smiled in amusement as the penguin was unable to get past the side of the tub, which, in fairness to him, was a great deal taller than he was.
Bemused, Loki wondered how long Clint Barton would go about it before giving up. As if thinking exactly the same thing, the bird momentarily stopped to look at him. It was almost as if he was contemplating whether or not he was going to submit to Loki's cruel games and ask for assistance.
He turned away and with one especially determined attempt, leapt upward, something Loki didn't actually think penguins were capable of doing.
However valiant, his attempt failed, and Clint Barton fell to the ground on his behind. Out of both pity and awe, Loki decided to cut him some slack. He walked over to the humiliated penguin. Trying his best not to startle him, Loki picked him up for the enth time that day, and put him down right in the middle of the bathtub.
Despite the fact that there was fish in every direction he looked, Clint Barton wasn't so quick to just dig in. He eyed the fish suspiciously, and gave Loki the same once-over. Loki didn't know whether to find Clint Barton's actions amusing or insulting. "Don’t you think that if I wanted to do something bad to you, I would have done it by now?" He frowned, chiding the penguin as if it understood him.
The crazy thing was, you could swear by the way the bird looked at him, that he did!
Clint Barton took a couple of tentative steps around and began inspecting the fish one at a time, before selecting the one he deemed most edible.
Loki sat down on the floor by one of the corners of the tub and took note of which of the fish Clint Barton ate. He took the time to make a checklist of everything he was going to need as soon as humanly possible.
The pool water would definitely need some adjusting to be safe for Clint Barton to swim in for prolonged periods of time. He thought of turning the whole pool room into the closest thing to a penguin sanctuary he could come up with. It wasn't as if he really used that room anyway.
His thoughts drifted back to the memory of the first time he had seen Clint Barton. He remembered the way the penguin sat alone, unwilling to mingle with the rest of his kind, with whom he supposedly had spent most of his life with.
Now, Loki didn't know much about penguins- little to nothing before today, even- but he was inclined to believe that they were indeed animals that needed the company of others of their kind. So why was that not true of this particular penguin, he wondered. It began to worry him, then; if Clint Barton did not even feel comfortable around those of his kind, what more with someone like Loki?
It was almost depressing to think that there was a possibility that, despite everything he could have done to make the penguin happy, he might simply just not like to be around anyone. He thought of how Darcy and Victor were so sure of the fact that he and Clint Barton would be a good match- that he'd be able to take good care of him or that they'd make good companions.
But what an ill-conceived idea, Loki came to the conclusion not much later. How was he supposed to make this penguin feel comfortable with him? Yes, he could provide him with shelter and food, but other than that, what was he supposed to do? A disappointment like failing to get Clint Barton to warm up to him no matter how hard he tried would have been a devastating blow to his ego. It was almost just as upsetting that the two had not taken that into consideration; they wouldn't be the ones with anything to lose should the penguin still continue to reject him in the future.
In the end, he forced himself to push these thoughts aside. He and Clint Barton had only just been pushed into each other’s lives. If he were to worry about the future, he should have first made sure all went well in the present.
Less than excited but still determined, Loki made a move to pet the bird, but the penguin flinched as the shadow of Loki's hand fell over his head. Withdrawing his hand, Loki backed off a little instead. If he was going to gain Clint Barton's trust, he thought he could start by showing him there was no reason to be threatened of him, and that he respected his space. It was almost funny how he gave more consideration to this penguin than he did human beings, but then again, the penguin had no idea who he was, nor would he have any preconceived notions of how to act around him.
He just leaned against the tub, content to just watch the bird eat. He continued to mentally keep track of which fish he liked and which he avoided or ended up leaving alone after a bite.
There was a low buzzing noise coming from somewhere in the room that grabbed Clint Barton's attention. The bird turned to him, and he's about to tell him that it wasn't him making that noise when he realized what it is.
He didn't know why he had not felt his phone sooner; he was practically sitting on it after all.
Having learned his lesson, he checked the caller ID and let out a breath of relief when he saw that it was Pepper. "Hello?"
"I just finished going over your article for the Von Doom party," she informed him pleasantly. "Good job as always."
He smiled, taking kindly to her compliment. "Always a pleasure, Pepper."
"Also," she said clearing her throat. "You might want to take a look at your email."
It struck him as slightly odd for Pepper to speak so cryptically rather than in her usual straight-forward manner, but he didn’t question it and went to his email as \ instructed.
His eyebrows shot up when he saw about half a dozen emails, all from Tony, with subject lines that read "For Penguin" or something of the sort. "Is this a permit?' he said unable to hide his surprise.
Pepper laughed. "I'm sure you of all people know that Tony doesn’t quite know how to be apologetic, but I thought I’d be sure you saw his attempt at trying. To save you the time, that is," she explained.
He read through the contents of the e-mails and couldn't quite believe his eyes. Virtually everything he could have needed was here and taken care of. "Thank you, Pepper," he said at a loss for any other words to say.
"Right." There was a hint of affectionate sarcasm in her voice, and he'd known her long enough to know that that was her 'I don't know what I'm going to do with you' tone. He'd heard it directed at Tony many times before, but this was one of the few times he was actually on the receiving end of it. Whether it be because of how he had gotten himself into this jam in the first place, or if it had just been brought on by his stubborn unwillingness to forgive Tony just yet, he couldn't be sure. Maybe it was both. "I don’t know how long you two have managed to last with the size of both your egos, but I've already learned there isn't much I can do about it," she said in resignation.
He knew she couldn’t see it, but he smiled and his tone softened as he spoke, chuckling in reply to her exasperation. "What would he ever do without you, Pepper, my dear?"
"What would either of you do, honestly," she huffed.
He thanked her politely again- something he's been doing a lot of today- and she bade him goodbye and good luck, mentioning something about having other things to see to.
His happy mood did not sour as the conversation ended, and in new found tenacity, he looked right at the penguin and reassured them both that this was something he would see through. “I don’t know what’s going to happen between you and I, Clint Barton, but we can find out together.
He didn’t quite care how odd it would look to an observer, him talking to a penguin in such a serious manner like that. But the point had been that it didn’t matter at all. “So let’s try to make the best of this. What do you say?”
The bird paid attention to him as he spoke, suggesting that he might understand; but the way he lost interest the moment Loki had finished indicated that, even if he could understand on some level, it probably wasn't enough for him to care. No more than he cared about his meal, that was.
But this was only the beginning, Loki told himself. He’d have plenty of opportunities to win Clint Barton’s trust. And who knew, maybe one day, he’d even win his affection.