Chapter Text
INTERIOR - THE JOINT DARK ENERGY MISSION FACILITY
The portal is only open for a few seconds before the Tesseract shuts down the beam of energy, but it's long enough. As the blue tendrils fade like smoke, the SHIELD agents converge cautiously on the kneeling figure of a man, dressed in strange garments of dark leather and holding a weapon with a curved blade in one hand. The figure looks up through a curtain of long black hair before rising to its feet and casting an urgent searching gaze around the room. Wide green eyes latch onto Fury's, and in that instant Fury reads a flash of wild disorientation and pounces on it in an attempt to maintain control of the situation. Maybe, just maybe, this doesn't have to get messy.
'Sir, please put down the spear.'
The disorientation is replaced by determination, and a voice like silk answers him. 'I am Loki, of Asgard, and I...' The man staggers back against the wall and Fury takes the opportunity to edge closer, beckoning Clint to follow him. Loki stretches out a hand toward them, fingers splayed, but nothing happens. Only a few sparks and an electric crackle around his fingers. With a cry of frustration, he turns to slam the wall with his fist, leaving a fair-sized hole.
Fury can see Clint's trigger finger tightening out of the corner of his eye, but he gestures for him to wait. This could still go either way. And then behind him he hears the incredulous voice of Eric Selvig. 'Loki? Brother of Thor?'
Loki turns and fixes Selvig with a glare. 'That is no less insulting the second time. Do you people really know me for nothing else?'
Something is definitely off here, and Fury repeats his request, 'Sir, I'm asking you again to please drop your weapon.'
As the agents surround him, Loki eyes them warily, as if considering his options, but at the last minute he seems to give in, drops the spear and raises his arms above his head. Fury isn't exactly reassured by that. He knows a tactical surrender when he sees one, and he knows trouble too, and it's coming off this guy in waves. But over the years, he has learned the value of diplomacy. Never burn bridges until you're damn sure you're not going to need them. Or until you have a boat.
'Sir, with all due respect, you are trespassing in a high security facility. Now, I realise that may not have been your intention, but I will have to ask you to come with me so I can ask you a few questions. Is that acceptable to you, or do we have a problem here?'
Loki looks down at his spear, lying on the ground at his feet, and anxiety registers briefly on his face.
'If it will make you feel better, one of my men will bring the spear.'
After a moment's thought, Loki nods tiredly and seems to acquiesce. 'It is acceptable, but on one condition. I must speak with Tony Stark, and without delay.'
Sitting across the table from Loki in a quiet office room, Fury begins to see more and more cracks in the god's haughty facade. Loki's manner may be offhand and aloof, but there's a tremor in his hands as they lie in front of him on the table, and seen from close-up, there are ghosts in the green eyes. In all, he is an unnerving presence, and Fury is glad Barton is there, standing quietly in the corner of the room, the spear in one hand. A team of agents are posted outside the door, but for the moment it's just the three of them.
This is essentially an interrogation, but Fury likes to start off civil - sometimes the gentle approach yields quicker results. 'You look tired. Can I get someone to fetch you a coffee while we get started?'
Loki looks momentarily hopeful, then an expression of distaste crosses his features. 'Thank you no. I have been unfortunate enough to sample coffee at a SHIELD facility before.'
Astonished, Fury glances up at Clint, who shakes his head slightly without taking his eyes from their curious guest.
So much for civility. 'So you claim you know about Stark, you know about SHIELD, you even know about our goddamn coffee, and yet neither of us has ever seen you before. Just how much did your brother tell you? And what else do you know about us?'
'I know a great deal about you, Director Fury.' Loki leans forward in his chair. 'And everything about you, Agent Barton. But that is not the issue here. It is imperative that I speak to Tony Stark with all speed. Why are you delaying?'
Fury ignores this last. 'You know who I am too? Excuse me, but I don't believe I've had the pleasure.'
Loki's answering grin is genuine. 'Oh, you will. Although you consistently refuse to acknowledge it as one.' His smile fades as quickly as it appeared. 'But we are wasting time, and you have no conception of how literally I mean that. I require your swift cooperation. I demand to see Tony Stark.'
Fury grits his teeth behind his frown. Civility has already failed, and sarcasm doesn't seem to making much headway either. Perhaps it's time for some straight talking.
'What the hell do you think SHIELD is, some kind of matchmaking agency for superbeings? I will contact Stark and as when I've ascertained whether or not you're a threat to him, or to us. You don't get to talk to him until you've answered my questions and at the moment all you're doing is making demands. Although I have to say, it sounds like you need us more than we need you. So in case you were wondering, the word you're looking for is 'help'. The other is 'please'.'
Loki's eyes narrow briefly and then widen again. He spreads his hands on the table in a conciliatory gesture. 'There is no need for us to be at odds. I am not your enemy, Director Fury.'
'I'll be the judge of that if you don't mind.'
'I could have lied to you about who I was. Perhaps it would have been easier if I had.'
The nerve of the guy. 'If you're trying to win my trust, you're going about it in a very unusual way. I'm sensing that honesty is something of a sticky issue for you, am I right?'
Loki's expression is deadpan. 'Something new that I am trying. So far I am.. undecided.'
'Well let me know how that works out for you. In the meantime I want to know what you're doing here.'
'Wasting my time apparently.'
Fury has had enough of this. 'Oh I'm sorry. Perhaps you have somewhere you'd rather be? One straight answer, right now, or Barton walks out of here with your spear and I don't think you...'
Loki interrupts him, leaning forward with an intensity that actually makes him flinch. Clint steps forward but Loki doesn't take his eyes from Fury's as he says, 'There is little point in my revealing anything of my intentions to you since in a few moments my magic will return and I will move on, and this episode will never have happened. I could warn you that agents of HYDRA are currently holding high-ranking positions within your organisation; I could tell you that a few days from now, I, the old me that is, will lead a full-scale attack on the city of New York. I could even reveal to you that I will indeed win your trust, but it will take me two and a half years, most of which I would rather forget. But none of this will help you because in a few seconds you will remember none of it, and everything will have reverted to the way it was.'
He could almost have believed it if it wasn't for that last part. Trust this smooth-tongued son-of-a-bitch? 'You're just stalling, aren't you? What is it you're waiting for?'
Loki stares him out silently, as if he's said everything he intends to say.
'Did you come here alone? Are you working with anyone else?' Silence. 'Did someone send you here?'
Loki heaves a sigh of impatience. 'Yes, yes, and yes. Do you truly wish to know who sent me?'
'I'm all ears.'
Fury leans forward too now, and those haunted eyes are inches from his as Loki murmurs, 'You did.'
And then something flashes across the god's face as if it were lit from within, and Loki closes his eyes in relief. 'Finally.'
Fury doesn't see him move, but in an instant he is standing beside Clint and touching those long fingers to the spear. And then...
...the sound of Coulson's voice, 'Director? Director Fury, do you copy?'
Fury can feel the heat from the burning helicopter on his back as he apprises Coulson of the situation.
'The Tesseract is with a hostile force. I have men down. Hill?'
He issues orders, prioritising search and rescue, and the recovery of the Tesseract, almost dreading the words he has to say next..
'This is a Level Seven. As of right now, we are at war.'