liesmith | ♉ of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch

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♉ of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch

After sending Darcy along home with her exsanguinating friend, he returns to his own apartment (bought and paid for with false papers and rerouted funds and cloaked to the gills from any and all prying eyes, S.H.I.E.L.D.-employed or otherwise) to watch over the bustle of activity surrounding the Lewis residence. He doesn't peer into the apartment proper - Darcy's made that line very evident after a prior misunderstanding - but he does see the good captain carted off to medical facilities unknown. There's a momentary debate about whether or not to send a shadow clone after Rogers, to further plant the seeds of curiosity and doubt, but... Loki decides against it. If he's done his work properly then it will only be a matter of time until the captain comes looking for him.

This entire endeavor was meant to be so much simpler before Darcy had swept in in a poor imitation of her heroically inclined colleagues. Oh, well. Still, one must follow through on things.

So it is that Loki Silvertongue sits in the outdoor dining area of a local restaurant with a steaming cup of black tea. Clearing his throat, he raises his eyebrows at his guest and waits for acknowledgment.

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Steve is jogging. Sure, there's the incredibly elaborate facilities within the SHIELD and Mansion complexes but sometimes running in circles or in place isn't enough. Dodging people on the street, rerouting around closed pathways, finding new cross-streets - it makes it fun as much as a challenge. Though the challenge is really to get going fast enough and long enough to leave himself breathless.

SHIELD tried to follow him before - set their best runners with him, tried to drive a chase car with full sirens through the city behind him - and in the end satisfied themselves with tracking his cellular phone and having Thor and Tony on call in case anything happened.

He almost misses Loki as he's running past - and then registers the presence of the Asgardian and almost slams full-tilt into a woman calling for a cab. She reacts better than he expects. There's a lot of giggling, which makes him think he's probably done something extra-stupid and doesn't realize it, before he can apologize and excuse himself and backtrack to the cafe.

"I'm not by myself this time. If I stay in one place for more than the duration of two street lights, your brother and Iron Man will be here in under three minutes."

Edited 2011-09-17 21:15 (UTC)

"If I'd wanted you by yourself, do you think I have no other recourse besides ordering luncheon in broad daylight with so many useless distractions about?" Loki keeps his eyes down on the delicate cup in his hand as he sips politely. He doesn't bother correcting the captain on his incorrect use of terms re: himself and Thor, as that's not the point of this little meeting anyway.

"You people and your predilection for gadgets," he sighs condescendingly as he sets the cup down upon its saucer with a gentle clink. "Will your keepers mind you settling down for a bite or two, or should you give them notice?"

Compared to the last time he wished to have a conversation with you, Steve, and considering he's just given you leave to ring up your agents should say a great deal about how different his intentions are now.

Steve considers this, and then sits, pulling out the tiny phone to call his primary handler. "Hello - No, I'm all right, I just wanted to let you know I'm detouring for a bit. I saw a restaurant I think I want to try. I will. Yes ma'am. Thanks."

He hangs up carefully and tucks the phone into the pocket of his fatigues. Loki gets favored with one of those long, calm looks and Steve says, "She takes after her mother, I guess."

Loki nods while the captain makes his arrangements and takes his seat. See how smoothly things go when one cooperates? There's a bit of the sardonic to that nod, given how easily he seems to settle under the yoke S.H.I.E.L.D. has decided to place on him, but that's for another time.

"I wouldn't particularly know," he says with a shrug, so nonchalant so as to avoid being seen to admit anything. "I don't particularly recall her mother, and I'm still in the process of becoming acquainted with her."

"I'm sorry," he says, and it's clear that he means it sincerely. "Agent Lewis is a remarkable person. I'm glad you have her."

There's a pause, and he goes on, very quietly. "And if you hurt her, I don't care who you are or how powerful you might be, I won't stop until you're dead and your case file is archived. I'm sure you understand."

Steve picks up the menu and frowns at it. It's all extremely fancy and (to his mind) extremely expensive, and it's probably about the size of his thumb. He's never been to the Little Giant before. Probably won't make it to his list of regular stops.

Edited 2011-09-17 22:11 (UTC)

"It is as it is," he replies mildly. The situation can't be changed, and it's being dealt with as best it can so there's hardly a need for apologies and less of one for Steve to tell him what a find Darcy is. He's well aware of that already, thank you.

Arching an eyebrow, he smiles bemusedly, as if he's watching a toothless puppy attempt to growl at him. Well-meaning and somewhat cute, if entirely futile. "An interesting ultimatum." The smile fades into something less amused and more annoyed. "And unnecessary. She is my daughter, and I will act accordingly. I can't do much about her choice of company nor employ at present, but beyond that... She is under my more than considerable protection."

He relaxes and smiles, and it's as sincere as the apology. "I'm glad. We do out best, but with a couple exceptions, there's a reason we take the team out to fight people like you."

The waitress appears and Steve flounders for a moment before offering her the menu and a bemused look. "Just. Coffee, please. Black."

"I'll be sure to sleep better at night knowing I have your tacit approval," he replies blithely, not missing a beat.

The waitress turns to him, pad in hand and pen waiting to take down anything else. Loki gives the captain an inquiring look before returning his gaze to the menu. "The chicken liver mousse, the truffled asparagus and duck egg, a red quinoa salad, an order of ramp crostini, a bavette, and the duck confit BLT for my... guest."

He snaps the menu shut and hands it off to the waitress with the barest glance while she scribbles away. Settling himself in his seat, he arches an eyebrow in Steve's direction at his lack of initiative. Loki might not have Volstagg's voluminous appetite, but his metabolism does have its needs, much as he knows the Avenger's does as well.

"Thank you, miss," Steve adds, as she starts to turn away. She looks almost startled at the acknowledgement, which makes him feel bad. He'll have to leave a good tip.

He sighs. "And thank you, I guess. I don't even know what you just said."

"If you'd given the menu a more than cursory glance, you would know precisely what I ordered. Suffice for the moment to know that it's food."

Leaning back in his chair, Loki steeples his fingers. "So. The question becomes what exactly you plan to do with this newfound information. I'm sure by now you've realized that it's a very select few who are in the loop, as it were."

Steve just gives Loki a blank look. Aside from reporting the necessary details to the necessary parties, he hadn't planned to do much of anything. It was Darcy's information to share, for one, and if Fury or Coulson didn't see fit to act on it, it wasn't Steve's place to question why. If Darcy's safe, well...

"I wait. If I get orders to act, then I act."

Loki watches him carefully. Part and parcel of being able to lie this well is to recognize the lies in others, and he's had centuries to perfect the art. And what he sees... Is a total lack of guile in the captain, in and of itself a veritable rarity.

"Hm. Discretion truly is the better part of valor." Which is the closest he'll ever come to stating he appreciates that particular discretion, so take it for what it's worth, Steve. "Well, then. With that out of the way we can get down to brass tacks, as it were. My offer still stands."

"Sometimes. But it's not about valor, it's about Darcy." A pause before he corrects himself. "Agent Lewis."

The compliment goes over his head, as most of them tend to.

He waits as the waitress returns with his coffee, smiling up at her again and offering another thank you before he turns his attention back to Loki. "And my answer is no, thank you."

Steve looks down at the cup instead of at Loki's face. "I'm staying here."

There's a barely audible snort at the Captain's particular lack of observation skills before Loki dismisses it. After all, as he's said, it's out of the way and done with.

Arching an eyebrow, he fixes a sympathetically curious look on his face. "Are you entirely sure about that? Weighed all the pros and cons?" He's entirely considered the possibility the mortal would be too noble as to accept straightaway and he's planned accordingly, so it's not too terrible a misstep in the greater scheme of things.

He will not break the cup. It probably costs more than the entire order Loki just placed. He will instead very carefully put it on the table and twiddle his thumbs. "Darcy reminded me why I'm here," he says. "She reminded me I wouldn't just be getting things back. I'd be losing more."

Steve chances picking the cup up to take a sip, wincing as the coffee burns his tongue. "Besides, I don't just belong to myself, sir. I haven't for a long time."

"Aha." Loki curses silently at his daughter's insistence on inserting herself in various matters. Just... Honestly. Let a supervillain do his work, if you please. Outwardly, he simply shrugs and swirls the tea in his cup, eyes fixed upon the dregs. "Well, if you're well and truly certain in your decision, then surely all this must be worth such a sacrifice."

If he sounds slightly skeptical of Steve's convictions there, then that's most likely unintentional. Most likely. Anyway.

"No matter then. My offer shall remain open should you ever change your mind. Far be it from me to deny you your options... Or your fellows."

It's my choice, he thinks, in some ways as important as the one that landed him here in the first place.

It's his choice. He made it. It's not going to change. "It's a sacrifice I made seventy years ago," he says. "I knew what I was doing then. It hasn't changed. My fellows are here, now, and so am I. I'll say that as many times as you need me to, sir."

He takes another slurp of coffee, thinking over the conversation with Darcy, letting it keep him grounded. He's not going to change his mind.

"Of course, of course," he says, setting his cup down and waving a hand dismissively. "Very stalwart of you, if nothing else. One wonders if the same can be said of your comrades in the face of such an offer."

The first few dishes arrive, and Loki picks up his cutlery and delicately spears a goodly amount of greens. "The archer might have a regret or two. Perhaps the good doctor." Shrugging casually, he takes a bite, managing to get by without appearing as a chipmunk.

Steve tenses the tiniest bit, his frown deepening, his tone still calm and the slightest bit bemused. "There are quite a few doctors on the team. What they do is their choice, but I will be debriefing Coulson, and he'll probably share your offer with the rest of the Avengers. Like Darcy reminded me, it's not something you're willing to give out of the goodness of your heart. She understands people better than most of SHIELD gives her credit for."

He shrugs. "We're a team. We don't keep things from each other, not things like this."

"How inclusive of you," Loki says just as bemusedly, never mind how much else S.H.I.E.L.D. takes for granted of his daughter. "Frankly, I couldn't care less about your besuited support staff - the six of you are more than enough for my attentions." After all, the six Avengers are the only ones who go and get in his way repeatedly - any foolhardy enough agents to meddle are easily taken care of. Collateral damage.

He appears to think things over as he continues working on his food, all precise cuts and tidy bites as the silence stretches. Just before it becomes truly unbearable, he cuts it with a shrug. "If you feel the need to go and circumvent your comrades' choices, then you do as you must. After all, I'm sure life buried underground in a cushy little cage suits Dr. Banner." A careful sip of tea as he casts a calculating look over the rim at the soldier. "Or it suits your keepers. Whichever."

"I know he wants his life back," Steve says, coldly. "And SHIELD is trying to help him. Really trying to help him, not offering him a way out that could destroy half a dozen other things."

He scowls down at his coffee, though the expression has an edge of sadness to it. "I want him to be able to go home, to live like he wants to- but I don't trust you to give him that."

Loki tilts his head, watching Steve for some shard of something, but comes away with nothing. After long moments of observation, he chuckles darkly.

"And you trust S.H.I.E.L.D. to?" Shaking his head, he takes another bite of food, half-smirking as he chews. "How utterly droll." Loki dabs at the corner of his mouth (though there's nothing there to be wiped away) and places the napkin to the side. "You truly and honestly believe that such an organization would work to deprive itself of one of its greatest tactical assets simply because it's the right thing to do? Oh, my dear captain..."

The now empty plate goes to join the growing pile of likewise at Loki's elbow. He fixes Steve with a frank, direct stare. "It's a wonder you've managed thus far, but you do yourself no favors being this ridiculously naive."

He has to believe it. He has to believe the people he works with and for are as dedicated to right as he is, that protecting people means protecting their own just as much.

He really, really wants to believe it, but for all that he's an optimist, he's not an idiot.

"Dr. Banner can do it," he says, very quiet. "Please, leave him alone."

"Of course, of course. I'm sure it won't take him another..." Loki purses his lips, brows knitting as he mockingly tallies out on his fingers. "Oh, eight years? Surely not that long before he manages to get anywhere." The waitress reappears at his elbow to refill his tea, and he waves a hand dismissively at her to leave the pot and go about her other tables. She seems relieved as she bustles away with nary a backward glance. Focusing his oh-so-sharp smile at Steve, his eyes flash with something. "And even if he does, you've all set him up so comfortably he'll not even notice the passing of time. That is aside from whatever little errand you've need of him next, but we all have our minor distractions."

Steve is rapidly approaching the same state of depression he was under when Darcy found him at the museum. He sets the cup down and starts to get up. "Thank you for the coffee," he says.

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liesmith - 2011-10-19 23:52 (UTC) - Expand

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