Unexpected
[Couldn’t have picked a better time,] thinks Tony vexedly as he fends off the five intruders that’d infiltrated their current hideout, heavily armored. The others weren’t back yet and this would go a lot smoother if he didn’t feel like coughing up a lung.
The idiot trying to lodge a knife in the back of his suit, gets yanked off that when Tony looks, another Iron Man stands there, grey blue colors of the fastest: Shotgun.
Whoever the wearer runs goon number three into the wall so hard his skull cracks.
Distracted Tony’s tripped by goon number two whilst number five’s picked off the ground Shotgun’s hand round his throat, pressure, dead and dropped. The mystery man [Rhodey likely,] blasts repulsor at the last grappling with Tony, so they’re all down.
Once the faceplate retracts Tony exclaims: “Loki!” he beams, laughs as the god helps him stand, grin on his own face. “You, insane, bastard. How-”
“The hell?!” from Clint, alongside Nat and Steve having dealt with the lot outside, weapons raised that quickly Tony steps up.
“Whoa whoa,” pausing to cough, voice rough. “Everybody relax, okay? He just saved my ass.”
“He left the tower,” Steve underlines distressed and Nat adds:
“How?” with Thor and Bruce and all the security protocols in place.
Not in the least concerned, Tony reasons: “I am sure there is a reasonable or obvious explanation but do we all wanna get out of here or stick around for the cavalry?”
“How is he using your suit?!” Clint asks. “Tell me you didn’t authorize-”
“Nope uh, and he’ll share it with the class later.”
“Now!”
“Clint we gotta go,” Steve tells. “Place’s compromised. Grab anything salvageable and let’s head out.”
“But seriously?! I am not going anywhere with him!” Loki’s eyes roll. “Where the fuck is Thor?!” He and Tony face one another, tune out the others and Tony just smiles. He’s plotted and pondered often how to get away with just this. Him and Loki out on the field like they are everywhere else whenever else; partners in crime. Loki grins wickedly.
“Loki out of the suit,” says Steve so he does, right into Tony’s space the latter stumbles a step back.
“It is rather cumbersome.” Tony raised a brow.
“You didn’t look over-cumbered a minute ago. How’d you even bring this one up?” Loki raised one in turn. “Oh come on Lokes. I’m vouching for you here. Give me something.” So Loki gives him the suit, after pressing to contract it. Tony deadpans. “Funny.” The mage smirked and turned to study about them as Tony exits his armor contracting it too.
Taking what they need the group haste towards their van, trunk loaded up then Tony to it makes suitcases in both hands. He goes to haul them up halted by a hoarse cough, limbs straining. Lightened then the weight from them lifted, the sound of them set likely in the trunk as his eyes trail up to green ones. A flare of magic he is with familiar, brown fabric draped over his shoulders; a coat. His coat, getting tucked around him, the god of mischief’s face plain, close. Gone then he turns, shooting the spy a smug smile Clint scowls, tracking the mage’s every move till he disappears in the van and he himself behind the wheel climbs.
Whilst Tony remains somewhat dumfounded by the gesture, as he fixes arms into sleeves an absent smile tugging at his tired features. He joins the rest in eyes landing on Loki, in the back gaze out the window then on him. The sudden attention makes leap his heart like often it does, as he moves himself towards the mage and perched like often just by him.
Again he finds himself smiling at Loki, wider when the god responds in kind that unwaning glint of mischief in jade eyes. Mumbling at the front captures his attention, Loki’s name that Nat utters, to Bruce over the phone telling them where they’re headed as Clint starts the car, gaze on the runaway god trained in the rearview mirror, alike Steve’s sitting sideways in the seat before them.
“Flattering as all this attention is, Captain, I suggest you unclench. Else this ride’ll be rather uncomfortable for you.” Unamused Steve is, althemore when Stark chuckles. Rogers pressed:
“Why are you here?” Loki shrugged.
“I got bored.”
“So you broke out,” called Clint. “And d’you think that’ll go well? Think we’ll just shrug it off?”
“Yes.” Clint’s head whips around just to shoot a glare heated.
“Oh we’ll see.”
“No, we won’t,” Stark crossed, wryly adds: “Like we didn’t know he could. Only reason he’s there is cause we are, and now he’s here and so are we.”
“How can he use your suits?!” Tony’s eyes roll.
“I will look into that, can you just concentrate on not getting us killed, thank you.” Clint grumbles as Stark battles the urge to sneeze and it wins. A tissue’s in his line of sight held out by the god preoccupied seemingly by the mountainscape outside. Tony takes it grateful, ignoring like Loki Steve who stares still. Balling the used kleenex into his coat’s pocket he turns to his volatile mage friend, barely dressed for the snowy weather in but slacks and a fitting black shirt, sleeves bunched up showing off pale, sinewy arms. Stark mumbles voice nasal: “Lokes aren’t you cold? It’s freezing.” Loki spares him a sole glance, answers:
“I don’t get cold.” Tony half smirks, teased:
“Well lucky you.” But Loki does not react to the humor like often he does in fact appeared tense. Well actually he appeared perfectly poised relaxed but Tony knew better. Better than all of them he read and understood Loki in a way that concerned them. But he cannot read his thoughts and communication was neither’s strong suit so Tony clocks this reaction for later, as should he press now Loki’ll clam up. Really all he wants is to lean on his friend and close his eyes for a bit. He finds he’s gladder than expected that the god’s here.