Chapter 2
"You," Loki declared with a pout, "Are going soft."
Phil's eyebrow had the decency to twitch, which was basically the equivalence of a guilty look.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Loki snorted, pouring himself another cup of tea as the two sat in a quiet café just off Central Park. He was still wearing his armor, the cape and ridiculous helmet still present, but no one around them noticed. From their perspective he was in a casual business suit, unassuming and ordinary.
"How long have you been with SHIELD? With the Avengers? I could understand a decade or two getting in their good graces, but this is just becoming ridiculous. You haven't done anything in years."
"Last week I reprogrammed Stark's suit to zap him every time he swears," Phil offered, but it was halfhearted at best. Loki scoffed.
"This from the one who once turned an entire river into wine just to see the upheaval it would cause."
Phil grinned.
"Yeah, that was a good prank."
Loki brandished a scone at him, triumphant.
"See! You still have the soul of a trickster. You are still the Coyote. And yet you remain with this do-gooding group of half-wits as they try to save the world when there is far more enjoyment in causing chaos. You have gone soft."
"Probably," Phil admitted, unconcerned. But he had to conceal a fond smile behind his blueberry muffin, and Loki's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, do not tell me it's that mortal."
"I like him," Phil returned loftily. "And he's a good man. With a wicked sense of humor; I'm wondering if he was one of us in a past life."
"I still haven’t heard from the Raven," Loki admitted. He cast Phil a shrewd look before shaking his head resignedly. "But you are not to be swayed, are you? Very well, indulge your little century or two of being good. I will just have to make up for your absence."
"I'm sure you will," Phil grinned. "Just try not to hurt the little one with the bow next time."
"I make no promises," Loki replied breezily, snagging another scone as he stood up. "All these mortals look the same to me."
He turned to go but paused, just a brief moment, and Phil's eyes softened.
"I'll watch after Thor," he reassured the trickster. Loki's gaze flicked to him, quietly grateful, and then he swept out of the café.
Phil wasn't even surprised when a woman ran out of the bathroom a few minutes later, screaming there was a crocodile trying to climb through the toilet.
When he went home he found Clint sprawled across his bed, still in full gear and passed out cold after an exhausting day of battling evil. Clint mumbled something about saving an entire city block with a sleepy, pleased smile when Phil helped pull off his armor, and Phil shushed him fondly and pulled the blankets over them. Helping people made Clint happy; and when Clint was happy, Phil was happy.
But he was still going to switch out Stark's coffee for decaf.