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“Can you believe it’s Halloween already?” Margery asks. “It seems like the Easter Egg hunt was only last week!”
Rob nods and sips his beer. “Where does the time go?”
“Got me,” Jasmine agrees. “What’s Denny dressed as this year?”
“Boba Fett,” Rob says.
“Maddie is Batwoman,” Margery puts in.
“Frankie wanted to go as Attila The Hun,” Jasmine says with a laugh. “I talked him into going as Lex Luthor instead.”
They’re standing in the cul-de-sac on an unseasonably warm Ohio Halloween. It’s just about dusk, and costumed kids are already out ringing doorbells and collecting treats.
“Whoa, check out that dude!” Rob says, gesturing with his beer bottle.
A tall man dressed in emerald and gold armor and a billowing emerald cape is approaching from up the street. He’s got a huge golden horned helmet on his head, and he’s holding the hand of a little girl dressed in a blue Cinderella costume.
“Whoever he is, that guy just set the bar for dads’ costumes for years to come,” Jasmine observes.
“Is he supposed to be… Loki?” Margery asks, perplexed.
“Yeah, I think so!” Rob says, laughing.
It’s only when the armored man and the little girl get closer that they see he’s also trailed by a giant poison-green snake and a wolf as big as a small pony.
“Holy crap,” Rob says, and reaches for his cell phone.
“Nine-one-one operator, what’s your emergency?” a woman’s voice asks.
“Uh… you’re not going to believe this,” a man’s voice replies. “But I think… I think Loki is trying to take over our neighborhood.”
“Loki?” The operator’s voice drips disbelief.
“Yeah. Tall guy, gold armor with a big helmet and a crazed look in his eye. He’s got a little girl with him, probably kidnapped. Oh, and a snake and a huge-ass wolf.”
“Sir… have you been drinking?” the operator asks.
“Just the one beer!” the man’s voice protests.
“Sounds like our guy,” Tony murmurs.
Natasha hits a button, and the recording stops.
“So are we a go for this mission?” Steve asks.
“You are go,” Fury’s voice says over the speaker.
Natasha sighs and turns the quinjet toward Ohio.
Rebecca opens the door.
“Trick or treat!” the little girl in the Cinderella costume says, and holds out her plastic jack-o-lantern.
Rebecca takes one look at the little girl’s red eyes, the big snake, the huge wolf, and… Loki? She screams and slams the door in their faces.
She turns off her porch light, and a moment later opens the door again to stick up a sign reading OUT OF CANDY.
She slams the door shut, triple locks it, and goes upstairs for the night.
Rob, Margery, and Jasmine watch from a safe distance as the man – Loki? – goes down on one knee to comfort the little girl, who’s now crying.
“Tsk, poor thing,” Jasmine says, and shakes her head.
The little girl is sobbing now, and the man puts his arms around her and draws her close.
The little girl is in obvious distress, and Jasmine can’t stand it any longer. She strides over to the odd little group.
“Is she OK?” Jasmine asks.
The man in the armor looks up at her and scowls.
“Does she look ‘OK’ to you?” he asks acidly.
And oh my God, it is Loki; Jasmine recognizes him from the endless news coverage of the attempted invasion of New York back in July.
Loki is scowling up at her, and she answers without thinking.
“No, not at all. What happened?”
“That woman,” Loki says, pointing to one of the houses, “screamed and slammed the door in my daughter’s face!”
“She’s your daughter?” Jasmine asks, astounded.
“Yes. Her name is Hel.” He motions at the wolf and the snake. “These are my sons, Fenrir and Jörmungandr.”
The huge wolf comes closer, and now Jasmine can see that it’s wearing a cowboy hat and a red bandana is tied around its neck. There’s a little sheriff’s badge pinned to the bandana.
And the poison-green snake is wearing what appears to be a specially modified Buzz Lightyear helmet on its head.
“Your children,” Jasmine repeats dubiously.
“Yes. My children.” His tone dares her to make a comment.
Jasmine takes a breath. “Well, it’s very nice to meet all of you. I’m Jasmine.”
“And I am Loki of Asgard.”
“Yeah… I know.”
“Ah.”
The little girl has stopped crying and is now looking up at her with blood red eyes.
“She looks like Heimdall,” Hel tells her father, who nods.
“Yes, child,” he agrees.
“Why was that lady so mean?” the little girl asks Jasmine.
“Well… that’s Missus Flemming… and… and she really doesn’t like children. I’m shocked she even hands out candy, to be honest.”
“Everyone says we’re monsters,” Hel tells her quietly. There are still tears in her red, red eyes.
Jasmine feels her heart melt.
“Come on,” she says, holding out her hand to the little girl. “You guys come meet my son, Frankie. He’ll show you which houses to go to… who has the best candy!”
Natasha brings the quinjet around.
“Those are the coordinates,” Natasha says. “Want me to get lower?”
“Nah, this is fine,” Tony says. He flips down his faceplate, ignites his thrusters, and shoots out of the quinjet.
Steve straps on a parachute and follows.
They land in the deserted cul-de-sac.
It’s dark now, and there’s no one around.
“Sir,” JARVIS says, “I am picking up activity in the third house outside of this cul-de-sac, to your left.”
“On it,” Tony says, and motions to Steve to follow. “Come on.”
“Anything?” Natasha asks over the comm.
“Not yet,” Steve replies.
They’re walking toward the house JARVIS had indicated.
The porch lights are on, as is the light above the garage.
The garage door is open, and there’s a swarm of costumed children inside. Tables of food and drink are set up along the walls. There’s a large tub with a bunch of kids crowded around it, bobbing for apples. In the back of the garage is a large screen television playing Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas.
Tony and Steve walk up the driveway.
“Looks like we’ve discovered a very dangerous Halloween party,” Tony says over the comm. “Shouldn’t be any problem busting it up… should we steal their candy, too?”
And then they see Loki, and he sees them.
“Here’s where the fun begins,” Tony says quietly, and then, “Loki! Long time no see!”
“Stark, what are you doing here?”
“A better question is, what are you doing here?” Steve replies.
“Attending a party to which I was invited… I was not aware that that is a crime.”
“IRON MAN!” one of the kids shrieks.
“CAPTAIN AMERICA!” another child cries, and a wave of excited children swarms forward.
“Uh oh,” Steve says.
“Excuse me.” A black woman comes striding up to Tony. “Is there a problem here?” she asks, frowning at him.
Tony flips his faceplate up. “Uh, yeah,” he says, motioning at Loki. “A pretty big one. Trust me lady, that’s not just some really great costume. He’s the real deal.”
“Oh, I know,” she says calmly. “I’m Jasmine Simmons.” She extends her hand.
“Tony Stark,” he says automatically, and pulls off his gauntlet to shake her hand.
“Yeah, I know,” she smiles.
“Whoa, wait, one at a time,” Steve says, laughing. The kids are all clamoring for his attention, wanting an autograph, asking questions, wanting to touch his shield.
Except for one little girl in a Cinderella costume. She’s hiding behind Loki, peering out from behind his legs. And there’s a snake and a huge wolf behind her.
Tony frowns. “Wait a minute…”
He flips his faceplate down and activates the comm. “Stand down, Natasha.”
“What?” she asks.
Steve turns to look at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously.” He motions at the little girl, the wolf, and the snake. “Those are Loki’s kids. Am I really the only one who does the reading?”
Steve shakes off his admirers and joins Tony, who’s flipped his faceplate back up.
“Those are your kids?” he asks Loki, disbelieving.
“Yes they are, Captain Rogers,” Loki says icily. “And some people say the unkindest things to them. Perhaps you have something you wish to say?”
And now everyone – parents and children – are staring at Steve expectantly.
“They’re children, Cap,” Tony whispers.
Steve takes a breath. “Um… Happy Halloween, kids! Is everyone having fun tonight?”
“YEAH!” all of the children chorus.
The little Cinderella with the red eyes smiles up at him. Hesitantly, she comes out from behind her father and holds out something to Steve.
“Trick or treat?” she says shyly.
He reaches down and takes the little Hershey bar out of her hand.
“Trick or treat,” he replies. He unwraps the candy bar and pops it in his mouth.
She grins up at him.
The snake slithers over to Tony. There’s a bright red apple in his mouth, neatly impaled on his deadly-looking fangs.
He looks up at Tony expectantly.
“Uh…” Tony says. He's dying to make some kind of undoubtably tasteless Adam and Eve joke, but instead he just reaches down and awkwardly takes the apple. “Thanks.”
“That’s Jörmungandr,” one of the neighborhood kids – a little Iron Man – tells Tony helpfully. He points at the wolf. “And that’s Fenrir. And she's Hel.”
“Wow. Ah, nice to meet you.”
“Will you and Iron Man stay for our party?” Hel asks Steve. “We’re having so much fun!”
Steve and Tony exchange a look.
“Sure,” Steve finally says, eliciting a cheer from the crowd of children.
A man walks over, a beer in each hand. “I’m Rob,” he says, offering the beers.
“Tony Stark,” Tony says, taking a beer. “Thanks.” He jerks a thumb at Steve. “Steve Rogers.”
Tony suddenly notices that Loki also has a beer, and that he’s carrying on a conversation with a blonde woman like they’re old friends.
“That’s Margery,” Rob says, pointing at the blonde. “This is her house… she does this every year.”
“Cool,” Tony says. “Looks like lots of fun for the kids.”
“Yeah, they love it,” Rob agrees.
“Can we come back next year?” Hel is asking her father.
He smiles down at her. “We will see, my treasure.”
The snake reappears with another apple in his mouth.
“What?” Tony asks. The snake makes a jerking motion with his head.
“He wants you to go bob for apples,” one of the kids explains helpfully.
“Sure, why not?”
“Jörmungandr’s really good at it,” the child tells him helpfully.
Tony does something with one of his gauntlets, and his armor disassembles itself into a small suitcase, leaving him in a black shirt and black pants.
“Is that so?” He picks up the suitcase and strides toward the tub of apples, the snake slithering along behind him. “Better bring your A-game, kiddo,” he says to the snake, “’Cause you’re going down!”
FINIS.