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The voice that answered the phone on the fourth ring sounded sleepy, cranky, and nigh-unrecognizable. "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa??!"
She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and then the words all came out in a rush anyway. "Boss, I am so sorry to bother you on your day off, I really am, but the rest of the morning shift called in and I'm here by myself, and I tried to handle it but the customers are getting scared and I think I'm in over my head, and I am so sorry to disturb you but... ummm... we have a Code New Mexico. And oh God, we may have a Code Stuttgart too but if you can believe it I actually think the Code New Mexico is the bigger problem, and I hate to do this because I know you've really been looking forward to this day off, boss, but I don't know what else to do."
The only answer was a clunk. Like someone had dropped the phone.
She held her breath as the seconds ticked by, occasionally hearing a rustling noise or a muffled curse on the other end. Then it went quiet, and she was just about to hang up when the familiar, commanding voice came through, and she could have wept with relief.
"You did the right thing, Robin. Just stall. I'm on my way."
****
"Another!" Thor drained his iced venti quad caramel macchiato and tossed the empty cup at the floor. His smile deflated as the plastic cup hit the ground and rolled aimlessly, still intact. "It's broken!"
"No it's not broken, that's what you're mad about." Loki rolled his eyes while sipping his second ludicrous combination of flavors, drizzles, and espresso shots.
Thor had just finished his eighth.
He had also broken three chairs when he couldn't get his disposable cups to shatter, and now seemed to be looking around for another one.
It would have been easier to just give him a damn coffee cup.
"Is this breaking of objects really necessary? I thought Stark told us to be subtle."
Thor frowned at Loki's question. "Friend Tony would not send us on this noble quest and expect us not to properly celebrate it! Another!" He grabbed another chair and threw it to the tiled floor, where it splintered.
The teenage girl behind the counter made an odd choking sound.
The small crowd of patrons safely on the other side of the Starbucks took more pictures with their phones.
The door opened and a middle-aged man wearing a green Starbucks apron over a well-tailored black suit walked in. Thor immediately leapt up. After a moment's consideration, Loki slunk down lower in his seat.
Thor closed the distance to the man in the suit in three steps. "Son of Coul! Can it be? Have you returned to us from the realm of Valhalla?"
Agent Phil Coulson gave Thor a familiar little half-smile. "It's good to see you too, Thor."
Thor threw his arms around Coulson and embraced him, lifting him a foot off the ground. Coulson made an "ooof" noise as Thor squeezed his ribs and twirled him around.
"This is a wondrous day! Verily, we must commemorate it with the grandest of exultations!" Thor set Coulson down and then, before Coulson had time to react, seized a small table and slammed it down, breaking it.
One of the bystanders passed out.
Coulson reached up to put a hand on Thor's shoulder but couldn't quite make it and settled for his bicep. "I'm happy to see you too, big guy. But you're scaring my staff. I need you to stop breaking things and calm down right now."
"But Son of Coul, this is a momentous--" There was a buzzing sound, and Thor went down in a limp blond heap.
"So that's what it does," Coulson said, pocketing the small penlike device he had just used to zap Thor. Then he turned to the crowd of onlookers. Happily, it appeared they'd been too busy trying to aid the one who fainted to notice much of what had just gone down. "Show's over, folks. Please delete any videos so I don't have to get warrants for them. Thank you for your cooperation; here's a complimentary Starbucks gift card. Do you need me to call a paramedic, sir?" He hustled them out the door in a matter of moments; they were regulars, they knew the drill. This Starbucks location wasn't large or particularly convenient. If you were coming to it regularly, it was probably to watch for stupid Avenger tricks that no one would ever believe and collect complimentary gift cards from Phil Coulson.
Behind the counter, Robin was already back at work wiping down surfaces. "Good call, Robin. You got the front from here?"
"On it, boss. Thank you."
One code down. One to go.
Coulson sauntered over to Loki, slouched almost to horizontal in his chair, even paler than usual. "Hi, Loki."
Loki looked up, his face ashen. "Didn't I kill you?"
"Yep."
"Then how are you here?"
"That's classified."
Loki frowned. "It seems that is all I am ever told in this realm. I last heard it from Romanoff this morning when I asked how she preferred her coffee."
"You asked her a question? I'm impressed."
"Captain Rogers says it builds character to confront your fears." Loki jerked his head towards the prone Thor. "What did you do to him?"
"Just applied a little non-lethal force."
"You incapacitated the crown prince of Asgard?"
"He was scaring my staff. And anyway, this is America. We don't have royalty. Except for Beyoncé." Coulson turned to the counter. "Hey Robin? Cue up some Beyoncé." Within a few seconds, "Single Ladies" began to play, and Coulson closed his eyes and allowed himself a few moments of head-bopping. If he was going to have to come in on his day off, at least he was going to have some fun with it.
When Coulson opened his eyes, Loki was staring at him like he'd sprouted an extra head. Come back from the dead and get barely a raised eyebrow. Get your groove on and suddenly you're the weird one. Coulson ignored the look. "Give me a hand with him, okay?"
"I am a prince of Asgard. I do not do manual labor."
"We've been over this. Unless your name is Beyoncé, grab his legs." Coulson grabbed Thor under the armpits and realized he should probably up the weights if Thor was going to be making a habit of this. Loki looked like he was going to balk, but shrugged and lifted. Between the two of them, they got Thor onto a couch, though he didn't quite fit; one arm dangled onto the floor, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth.
"It's a good thing Barton isn't here," Coulson said. "He'd draw genitalia on Thor's face."
Loki winced for just a second at the mention of Clint. Coulson didn't think Loki had noticed him noticing. "How's stuff going with you and Barton at the Tower?"
"He ignored me for the first month. Then he began to--" Loki's lip curled "--prank me, I believe you call it. Short-sheeting my bed. Switching the sugar bowl with salt just before I got my coffee. Something I am informed you mortals call a whoopee cushion." His voice dripped with disdain.
"And you just let him?"
"I don't see that I have another option." Loki paused. "And, given the circumstances, I suppose one could say it is the least I could do."
"Let me let you in on a secret about Barton," Coulson said, leaning forward. "Barton is very self-contained when he wants to be. If he's engaging with you, even through pranks, he expects an answer. Now if you want him to keep pranking you, just keep doing what you're doing. But if you're tired of it, prank him back... in a completely harmless and non-destructive way, of course. Either he'll back off, or he'll rise to the challenge and this will all end in one-upmanship and property damage and me having to do a few tons of paperwork. Oh, and I never told you any of this."
Loki stared at Coulson for a long while. Coulson wondered if he was supposed to be unnerved. Stuff didn't really unnerve him anymore.
He realized he wanted a cookie.
"I'm going to get a cookie. Would you like anything?"
"You must hate me," Loki whispered.
Coulson stood up and walked away. Loki stared at the floor.
"Here. It's chocolate chunk. You'll like it."
Loki stared some more as Coulson pressed the cookie into his hand and returned to his seat, taking a bite of his own cookie. "Sorry about that. See, when I want a cookie, I'm not really much of a conversationalist until I get a cookie." He smiled crookedly. "You were saying?"
"You must hate me!" Loki shouted.
The clatter of dropped silverware rang out from behind the counter.
"I know you love your histrionics, but dial it down a notch, okay? Robin's had a rough day." Coulson raised his voice. "You all right, Robin?"
"It's under control, boss!"
"Eat your cookie, Loki. And no, I don't hate you."
"Why ever would you not?"
Coulson sighed and stared into space for a moment. He generally tried to stay away from existential questions like this. "I guess I'm not someone who dwells on the past much these days. Once you cheat death... well, I don't know, Stark cheats death all the time and it never seems to make much of a difference, but me, well, I'm just happy to be here." As he said it, he realized he really did mean it. "And anyway, I read your file."
"You were satisfied?"
"If it's good enough for Fury, it's good enough for me."
"You think that highly of him?"
"He's earned it."
"I would not have expected mere mortals to exceed the Asgardians in their leadership. You mean to say this Fury does not simply grasp for blind obedience?"
Daddy issues... abort, abort. "So how much do you remember of your first time in New York?"
"Most of it to some extent. The extent is generally inversely proportional to how much I would want to remember it." Loki grimaced. "Mostly I remember my utter humiliation."
"Ah, your beatdown from the Hulk? Yeah, that looked unpleasant."
Loki raised an eyebrow. "How would you know?"
"There's a recording. Everything that happens in Stark Tower is recorded -- word of warning, in case you were thinking of having an orgy or an illegal high-stakes poker game or something, Tony will show it at his parties. Which, incidentally, is where I saw your encounter with the Hulk."
"Not that. Romanoff."
Coulson thought for a moment. "Oh yeah. Didn't see that one, but I heard about it."
"I do not care about being dented by your dull green creature--"
"--More like curbstomped."
"Are you quite done?" Loki glared. "I understand much the same happened to Thor. As I was saying, I do not care. I am not the god of fisticuffs."
"Ohhhh." Coulson couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from pulling up, even as his better judgment tried to talk him out of it. "That's what this is about. Tasha beat you at your own game."
"I am the god of lies! I am not to be bested by a mere mortal!" Loki shouted.
Coulson waited for the sound of breakage from the counter, and heard none. He glanced over; Robin was placidly loading the dishwasher; she hadn't even looked up. His heart couldn't help but swell with pride. She's already got his number.
"You always start shouting when you feel like people aren't paying enough attention to you? It's not an attractive habit."
"Thor does it." Loki sulked.
"I doubt people love it when Thor does it either, but with him it's usually about beer or Pop-Tarts instead of mere mortals and that's a lot easier for people to overlook. Also, can you come up with something to call us besides 'mere mortals'? We know already, you don't have to rub it in."
"Pop-Tarts are vile."
"I happen to agree, but as long as no one's trying to force you to eat them that's not your problem."
Loki averted his gaze. "I suppose you'll want to talk about weregild."
"Bless you."
"No, weregild. Payment as restitution for injury or death..." Loki paused. "I thought your society retained some knowledge of the Norse culture."
"Sorry. I'm more familiar with the Greek pantheon."
"Fools, the lot of them, obsessed with rutting," Loki sneered.
"We humans happen to like happy endings, and there aren't too many of those to be found in your stories what with Ragnarok and all. I didn't make the rules, don't gripe to me about it. What were you talking about again? Gesundheit?"
"Weregild. Asgard is prepared to pay it to you. Name your price."
A Norse god was offering him riches and it wasn't even the weirdest thing that had happened to him today. Whatever else Coulson could say for his life, it was never boring. He closed his eyes and began to murmur to himself. "Corvette convertible, cherry red, leather interior..." He opened his eyes to find Loki yet again staring at him. "Never mind. Trust me, no one who lives in New York City actually needs a car, no matter what Tony Stark tells you." He grabbed a coffee sleeve and scribbled a name on it. "These people, in Memphis, they do good work. Give it to them."
Loki's lip curled. "Barton couldn't give it away fast enough either. Something about fostering. Who would let their children be fostered by those who could not afford to keep them?"
"You're not in Asgard anymore. I thought Clint got that bow."
"A trinket. Thor insisted."
As if on cue, Thor let out a loud snore from the couch.
"What exactly were you two doing here, anyway?"
"Stark wished us out of his way so he and the others could discuss the orange man with the tiny hands. He posed us a challenge to see which of us could devise the most expensive libation. Or should I say... stimulant."
Coulson looked at Loki, then at the prone Thor, then again at Loki. "Has anything like this ever happened before?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Loki's innocent face was extremely unconvincing.
"I think you know what I mean. Thor having too much sugar and losing his chill."
Loki smirked. "Perhaps. Once on some very honeyed mead. Once on a surfeit of sweetcakes. Occasionally on bjórr. At Yule... every Yule. Last week on Banner's supposedly secret stash of ice cream. The good doctor was much wroth."
"In other words, you knew this was going to happen." Coulson shook his head. "And once it did?"
"Stark says my hair is 'emo', whatever that means, and as such is like to find favor with the youth of this realm."
"Oh, I get it. Wait for Thor to pass out... or become otherwise incapacitated... and then charm the barista into making you the winning drink. Gotta give it to you, it's a good plan. Would have worked under normal circumstances. But at my Starbucks the circumstances are never normal. See the barista?" Coulson gestured toward Robin. "Does she look familiar?"
"No..."
"She should. That's our SHIELD intern, Robin Hill. Niece of Agent Maria Hill. There's a certain family resemblance." Coulson had known Robin since she was a kid. She desperately wanted to be a SHIELD agent like her Aunt Maria, but her dad wanted her in a safer field like dentistry. Interning at Coulson's Shieldbucks while she studied at Empire State was the compromise. But Loki didn't need to know any of this. "I believe you may have met Agent Hill during your previous visit to New York."
Loki winced. "Agent Hill did not take the news of your apparent demise well. She kicked me in the nethers. Twice."
"Really?" Coulson couldn't help but beam. "Aww, that's so sweet."
"It didn't feel that way."
"Excuse me. You didn't get dead for any amount of time, Chitauri mind control or no, so I don't want to hear about it... wait, you really expect me to believe that registered after your little encounter with the Hulk?'
"Even your dull green beast respects the sensitivities of manhood."
"Whatever. It's not important." It was important. Coulson made a mental note to ask Fury to give Hill a raise the next time they talked. "What is important is that Robin is my intern, and if you menace, harass, alarm, or otherwise annoy her, I will have you begging to return to your solitary confinement in Asgard by the close of business." Coulson looked Loki dead in the eye. "Are we clear here?"
Loki gulped, but didn't look away. "Crystal."
"Good." Coulson allowed himself a small smile as he fished his StarkPhone out of his pocket and pulled Tony Stark up in his contacts for a text: Come get your pets. "Robin, you finished?"
"Yes boss!"
"Head on home. You'll get paid for the whole day, but you're officially off-duty. Special circumstances. Got it?"
Within seconds, Coulson felt wiry arms thrown around his neck and a whisper of a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Uncle Phil."
"You did good, kiddo. Now go be a kid."
Robin dashed out the door, taking care on the outside to make sure it was locked behind her. She flashed Coulson a thumbs-up as she headed down the sidewalk.
"So. I think we've covered the essentials, anything else you want to know about New York?"
Loki's eyes gleamed. "Tell me about your queen Beyoncé."
****
"Now put your hands up--"
Loki gazed at the StarkPod, transfixed. "How does a mere mort--"
Beyoncé froze in mid-step.
Coulson turned to Loki, his finger hovering over the pause/play button. The two stared at each other. Loki blinked first.
"How does an -- ahem -- human dance so exquisitely?"
"Many humans master dance with a combination of talent and practice," Coulson replied, clicking the play option as Beyoncé jumped back to life. "While Beyoncé first got attention for her dance skills, it would be grossly underestimating her to describe her solely as a dancer -- but I don't think you have the context to appreciate 'Lemonade' yet."
Thor had started to pick out some of the dance moves to "Single Ladies." He was actually pretty good.
"And she reigns alone as queen of New York?"
"Don't even think about it, Loki, Jay-Z would break you in half," Coulson said. "I mean, Beyoncé would too, but I doubt she'd feel like risking breaking a nail doing so."
"She'd send me first."
Loki jumped a foot off the couch at the sound of Natasha Romanov's voice suddenly booming from a scant foot behind him in a locked Starbucks. Coulson had suspected she might be the one to show up, so he only jumped an inch and a half. "Filling in, Agent Romanov?"
Tasha waved a StarkPhone. "I ended up with custody of Tony's phone. I don't think Tony's going to be by anytime soon. He's either working out ways to overturn the election results or passed out in a puddle of his own bodily fluids. Possibly both."
"Oh, he suddenly cares?" Coulson couldn't mask the irritation in his voice.
"You know how he gets when Bruce gets upset." Natasha shrugged. "Anyway, it's not like any of us treated this with the appropriate level of concern. Except maybe Loki. Not that it did us any good in the end. What's up with Thor?"
Thor gave his usual genial smile as he mimed passing out and waking without the ability to speak.
"Oh, so that's what Tony's new toy does," Natasha said. "Unconsciousness followed by the inability to speak."
Thor nodded enthusiastically. Loki went even paler than he'd been most of the afternoon.
"Barton didn't come with?"
Tasha snorted. Coulson appreciated that she was comfortable enough with him to do that in front of him. "He's drawing up exit plans A through H as we speak, and I'm not sure they're all for Bruce, but Clint will feel better if we pretend they are. Anyway, weren't you supposed to have the day off? I'll tell Tony he owes you. Come on, wonder twins."
Thor headed for the door, but Loki lingered on the couch, and Coulson was still irritated with him for so many things, but he looked so pathetic... "Nat, could you do me a favor and set Loki up with Beyoncé's YouTube channel?"
"Whatever you want, Phil."
****
Once he'd finally herded all the interlopers out of his Starbucks, Coulson took his time polishing everything up and then polishing it again before he headed home. While he hadn't intended to be here on this day, he'd never actually expected to be dealing with this aftermath, and he found that polishing the fixtures and wiping the counters that Robin had already taken care of distracted him from the only logical, yet extremely irresponsible, way to deal with the past twenty-four hours: chugging every bottle of flavored sugar syrup behind the counter.
He was exhausted when he finally unlocked his apartment door and turned on the light.
His first emotion was pure, unbridled joy.
His second was to wonder how he was going to get the cherry-red Corvette out of his living room.