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Loki slipped the strap of his laptop bag over his head and gave his office a last once-over before flipping out the light and locking the door. He was almost at the main entrance when Tony fell into step beside him. They walked together into the warm Malibu evening, his driver trailing a few silent feet behind them.
“Got a present for you,” Tony said in greeting.
“Does it bite?”
“Nope,” replied the other man.
“Sing inappropriate ditties while I’m on a conference call?”
“Not that either.”
“Explode into glitter fifteen minutes before I have to take part in a tour involving three college presidents, a retired head of state and a generous helping of Rhodes scholars?”
A hastily stifled snicker. “No. But mark my words: the sentence ‘here at Stark Industries, we’re firm believers in freedom of thought and freedom of expression’ is going into every single recruitment brochure from now until the end of time, complete with the official picture we took at the end of the tour. You were, dare I say, radiant, and your hair was downright fantastic.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Loki replied. “I was washing glitter out of my ears for over a week, and if I never hear another Peter Pan reference in what remains of this mortal existence, it will be entirely too soon.”
“Yeah,” said Stark as he put on his sunglasses and looked around. “I can see that.” He paused, putting his hands in his pockets. “I want a beer. You want a beer?”
Loki shrugged. “Why not? Will I need to invoke Rule Four?”
Stark grinned as the driver opened the car door. “Never know,” he said. “Might be safer.”
***
Drinks were rapidly delivered, and Loki took an appreciative sip as Stark reached into his bag and pulled out what appeared to be a trophy.
“I saw video,” Stark said. “Jarvis timed me, and it was seventeen minutes and forty-eight seconds after the feed ended before I stopped laughing, and another twenty-three and a half minutes before I could breathe normally. I thought I was going to pass out. I might have, come to think of it, but that was amazing. Amazing.”
Loki raised an eyebrow as Tony went on. “And I couldn’t faze you, man. I literally sent you into a room with your suit covered in glitter so you could do a meet and greet with a former freaking president, and you didn’t bat an eye. You took five goats on a tour of the entire complex and didn’t lose one, which I’m still wondering how you managed. They were better behaved than most of the actual kids roaming around.”
“Heard of Sleipnir?”
Tony’s lip twitched. “Some. Damn. I should have thought of that.”
“Kid goats are nothing, Tony. Not compared to a beast like him.”
“Not exactly a people… horse?”
“Not remotely. He once bit my ear clean off; it took almost a decade to grow back properly, and that was with magical augmentation.”
Tony look a long drink, but Loki could see the grin on his face.
“The funny thing,” Loki said, “is that the monster likes me. I was one of the few he could stand. Gods. You should have seen what he’d do to Thor when given half a chance.”
A mock shudder. “Sounds brutal.”
Loki shook his head as he put his drink back on the table. “Semi-calculated, actually, which made it all the more hilarious. It was like watching an ongoing battle of wits between a pair of enormous throw pillows.”
“Wait. Multiple battles?”
“My brother is nothing without his determination and undying optimism.”
Tony chuckled. “Well, speaking of showdowns, this is for you.” He pushed the trophy closer to Loki, who picked it up.
“You’re conceding?”
“Yes and no,” Tony admitted. “I’m pretty sure we’ve started something that’s not going to end until about fifteen minutes after the rest of creation does, but I thought I’d at least give you this as a token of my appreciation for being one hell of an arch nemesis.”
Loki smoothed his thumb across the plaque. “‘1998 Thousand Oaks Junior Rugby League Semifinalist’. You shouldn’t have, Stark. Really.”
“Just did,” he replied with a smirk, gesturing for another round of drinks. They sat in companionable silence for a moment, and then Tony tapped on a napkin.
“There’s an astrophysics conference in LA coming up. Quite a few people will be there; we’re going to be throwing a reception the last night. I was thinking of using it as an excuse to party.”
“What sort of people? And why do you need another reason? Having a party seems a good enough excuse to, oh, I don’t know. Have a party.”
“Not an excuse so much,” Tony replied. “Maybe just a reason to get everyone back together. You know we haven’t all been in the same room since the night after New York? Selvig’s going to be at the conference, and I think Bruce might sneak in for a few minutes, too. So is what’s her face. Foster. I figured if I invited Erik and Doctor Foster and you, it might lure your brother in.” His brow knit. “Not that I’m trying to get you and your brother to kiss and make up or anything. It’s nothing like that.” He drew a circle in the condensation on the table, and Loki took a sip of his drink as he waited.
“Five hundred people,” Tony said after a moment. “The year I went to Afghanistan, there were five hundred people at my birthday party. I don’t even think I knew all of them; it was just a nice round number, and I’m sure it wasn’t even that, what with gate crashers and plus-ones. Five hundred people singing my praises, and then I disappeared. I spent a lot of time by myself when I came back, after the whole mess with Stane. Just didn’t know what to do, so I built suits and watched movies. So many movies in the background, and I remember seeing this one. I don’t know much about it, but there was a woman in it. Beautiful, popular, has all the gorgeous friends and gorgeous clothes and power lunch dates and just the perfect life. Then something happens and she gets hurt. I don’t remember how.”
He gestured vaguely to his forehead. “Mind’s like that sometimes. I can tell you the complete and highly classified composition of Cap’s shield, or the history of the electronics fight leading up to the 1893 World’s Fair, or the molecular weight of Aqua Net, but I can’t tell you what I had for breakfast. Probably one of those hideous green smoothies Pepper’s so fond of making me. Not pancakes, though. I always remember pancakes.” His smile was a little troubled.
Loki was used to the paths Tony’s mind took by now, and he took another drink as he steered the other man gently back. “So she was injured.”
“Yeah. That. And then she was laid up in her bedroom for days on end, and not one person came to see her except the lady that cleaned her house, and she realized that she had nobody, and after that, the only thing I remember is taking a flamethrower to the DVD because that was me and I never saw it. Things changed after that. I realized I didn’t have anyone but Pepper and Rhodes and Happy. No family. No real friends. Just people I literally paid to be around me. I wanted more.”
He leaned back, a little embarrassment in his face. “Family’s what you make of it. I think you and I both know that, and those people, the ones in New York and here, the ones who arm wrestle and break coffee tables and argue about World of Warcraft and psychoanalyze each other over pizza and play tackle Pictionary until seven in the morning and drink all the good vodka first - those are my family. I think I miss them.”
Unsure of what to do in his new, sudden role as Tony’s confessor, Loki took a long drink as he allowed Stark to pull himself back together a little.
“It’d be fun. Hang out with a bunch of scientists, then once they’re all tuckered out and go home, the real party can start. Like sushi night, only better. Not much prep time, but we almost don’t need it, right? I just hope nobody’s on a mission or anything.” Tony glanced down at the phone Loki slid across the table to him, then looked back up.
“Wilson’s on speed dial,” Loki said in answer, draining the last of his beer and signaling for the check. “Might as well start with him.”
“Why him? I thought we’d hit up Steve first. He’s always good for things like this.”
“Sam’s a little more flexible, and he’ll be doubly so when he finds out how you’re going to sweeten the deal.”
“Which is?” Tony’s face was brightening by the minute, even hidden under the sunglasses he’d replaced the second they left the pub.
“A rematch.”
“Paintball,” he breathed after a moment’s thought. “Hawkeye versus Falcon.”
“No,” Loki grinned. “Hawkeye versus everyone, though given the results of the last battle, when and how Clint learns about the actual team divisions should be left to Sam’s discretion.”
Stark laughed as the driver closed the car door behind them both. “Damn, you’re evil. Have I mentioned that I’m glad you’re on our side?”
Loki stretched out long legs with an answering smirk as the car pulled into traffic. “Well,” he admitted, “maybe once or twice.”