Avengers 1. Chapter 1

Nick Fury has a decision to make when it comes to Loki. He's not happy about it.

A/N: Written for a prompt on Thor Kinkmeme by Anonymous. (Since the link won't work here, if you wish to go to the original prompt, just ask)

As always, not quite what was asked for but almost ;)

* * *

**Bigger Picture **

By Ligeila

Nick Fury is a big picture type of a man. He is a leader and he knows just how far reaching the consequences of his decisions can be. He knows that sometimes personal sentiment has to be put aside for greater good but he also knows the importance of details and how to stay human. SHIELD is a huge responsibility and although he answers to the Council he knows that in the end he is out in the cold alone. He hates it but he would not have another man do his job and lose the sight of the importance of morality. Nick Fury is not known for compassion. He is known for ruthlessness and decisiveness and maybe, to some, for fairness.

Fury would like to think of himself as fair. As he reads report after report, transcript after transcript and analysis after another he sees the picture forming before him. He doubts that any of the Avengers has put it together yet. Maybe Stark would have the mind to notice if he would care to look, but he doesn't. Maybe Black Widow knows but she will never come forward to suggest any action. What they are seeing with Loki is not a man set out to conquer anything or to rule over anyone. What they are seeing is a man slowly but surely self-destructing and using the world's mightiest heroes to kill himself. You don't subjugate anyone with an army of animated park statues or museum exhibitions.

SHIELD has an armada of psychologists and behaviour analysts to know. It is written in black and white in each document presented to him. Fury almost doesn't need to read them. He has seen this before. Saw it in Korea, in Vietnam, in the Gulf, in Afghanistan and Iraq. The look in the eyes of men who have been taken too far and left alone for too long, many friends and comrades he has lost to that look. Loki has that look.

There were analyses when Loki first showed up with Chitauri in his wake. His highest death-toll to date. These suggested that Loki might have been coerced and not acting of his own volition. These ideas came in later, after many weeks of work for many people. By then Loki had been long gone and Thor never did explain what Asgardian justice had been. Fury thinks he knows by the look of Loki now.

When compared to other super villains who seemed to have become SHIELD's sole jurisdiction then Loki's numbers were not very impressive. He made up with fantastic fear tactics and good speeches but severely lacked on delivery. He didn't kill people. The people who died were those who could or would not be evacuated. Loki always made sure to have a monologue just long enough to give security forces time to get everyone they could to safety. He blew up cars and some shop fronts but in the end these things were all ensured. Loki clearly knew how to work a crowd, how to push just right to piss everyone off and get the maximum effect. He also knew how to create the illusion of villainy.

As of late these speeches had gotten more and more depressing and Loki more and more willing to put himself right in the middle of the fight. Not a good sign. Fury knows from the transcripts of numerous security tapes that Loki in his own and twisted way has begun to say goodbye. Now, Fury has a decision to make, one of personal morality. No one would fault him if he chose to do nothing. To let Loki reach the brink and end it all. It might even be the right thing to do. But he knows that no one has tried to reach Loki in any meaningful way; no one has tried to give the god an alternative to what he has now. He reads the conversations between Loki and Thor, if those can be called 'conversations', and cringes. He too would want to punch Thor. God of Thunder clearly has no idea how to handle his once brother, gives no respect to Loki or his wishes. Fury has tried to make it clear to Thor to stop engaging Loki during their fights because what follows is always so much more destruction than is necessary.

Fury could let these reports stay reports. He could let Loki kill himself and be done with it. But he sees potential; so much would be wasted if a man of Loki's ability would be dead. SHIELD could desperately use someone like him. Fury doesn't create any fantasies. Loki could never be more than a dirty little secret, a deniable asset, but as such all the more valuable. He knows that he could never stop a man like Loki from killing. No doubt there is more blood on Loki's hands than Thor's could ever carry and blood can be washed off only by more blood, Fury knows. He has recruited the Black Widow and Hawkeye after all. And Fury's own hands are far from clean.

Even as he contemplates, Fury knows that he has already made a decision. A team has already been assembled, one of doctors and therapists and God knows who else, ready to take on the madness that is Loki. Now all he has to do is bring Loki in. Easier said than done.

The End.

* * *

A/N: … For now. There might be more of this at some point if there's interest, who knows.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all who have read and reviewed! This has encouraged me to write more of this story so keep it coming ;). Also, a special thank you to my beta reader K. she is the best!

* * *

Monday

It's just past noon on a Monday and Kelly's lost in the haze of coffee and bagel orders, so all in all, quite usual for a Monday. She has time to notice a hot, tall, dark haired man hold the café's door open to a lady with a baby trolley as she is leaving. Polite and in New York, she files that away as a rarity. The man waits in the line with the rest of busy New Yorkers to get his coffee, Kelly bets it's going to be a double espresso or maybe a cappuccino – he has that look about himself and Kelly has worked in coffee shops for five years now, she knows her craft.

When the tall-hot-and-dark reaches his turn, Kelly makes sure she's the one behind the counter and Grace, the newbie, is filling the previous order. She won't ask for his number or anything but she has the licence to look, doesn't she? He smiles. She smiles. And then he talks,

"Scream and I kill you."

The tone is level, polite, ordinary, the woman behind the man, a pregnant lady with a boy holding her hand, doesn't even notice anything off. _I have the worst luck with men_, runs through Kelly's head before she answers back.

"Okay."

She sounds scared, she must sound scared, but still nobody notices anything. The man smiles again and this time it's not warm at all.

"Kelly" and Kelly hates when customers address her by name, it always feels like an invasion of privacy but it's the policy to wear nametags and smile through it all.

"I'm taking everyone in this fine establishment hostage for the day. Now, I need you to help me keep everyone calm and then nobody will get hurt. Okay?"

She nods. Maybe the man is making a joke, maybe there is a camera hidden somewhere and she really hopes that there is because she is getting very scared by the calmness of the man. Another smile and the man turns to the room at large.

"Everyone! I am Loki of Asgard and today, you are my hostages!"

For a moment there is complete silence, everyone just looks and then there is a shimmer about the man: gold and black and green waivers and unfurls and before them is the terror of New York. Some people scream. There are horns, big, pointy and menacing. There is a staff, sharp and wicked looking. Kelly just stands behind the counter and looks, rooted by fear.

A man, business suit and flashy shoes – _latte_ with extra foam and caramel syrup - dashes for the door, rattles it this way and that, but it doesn't open. Kelly thinks that all this lasts only a few seconds, it must. Loki, and now she recognises him, is still calm, he doesn't seem to be upset about the noise and movement. No. He's enjoying it.

Then he raises the staff and brings its end down once, it makes sound like a thunderclap and everyone stills and quiets.

"Humans, humans…" the tone is chiding, as if addressing little children out of hand and up to no good, "be at peace! I wish you no harm and none shall befall you if you but do as you are told."

Loki turns around, every eye is on him, his smile never waivers.

"Everybody, take a seat. Nice and calm, share a table if you must, I know it's hard," he is mocking them but they can do nothing but obey, so they sit. Kelly stays standing behind the counter; Grace is on the floor whimpering.

Loki turns to her and she braces herself.

"You too, Kelly, and please, bring Grace with you."

Grace sobs but Kelly hoists her up by the elbow and takes her to the only two free chairs. They are closest to Loki. He waits for them to sit before speaking again,

"Now that everyone has settled…" smile and gives a sardonic look around the room, "I know this is an unfortunate and difficult position I have put you all in. My deepest and most heartfelt apologies," by that smile, he is not sorry at all, "I wish you no harm, keep this in mind. But." And everyone holds their breath. "Should you act against me you will learn how truly unforgiving I can be. Do you understand this?"

People nod and mumble agreement.

"Good. This is what I want you to do: I want you all to sit in this café and eat and drink – just be yourselves that is all. Now, I will be outside, waiting for the security forces. Do not be alarmed. There is going to be a lot of people with a lot of guns out there but none of them will be aiming at you. You are welcome to try, but keep in mind that as long as my demands have not been met you will not be leaving this room. The doors and windows will not open and the walls will not give away."

He talks as if addressing a room full of simpletons, turning slowly and looking at every single person, and none can look him in the eye. Then he turns to Kelly.

"Kelly, would you be so kind as to make me a double espresso and a cappuccino?"

_Damn, she was right_. She rises and heads for the coffee machine. Her hands tremble badly and she ruins the first cup but she's not going to serve the madman anything but her best god damn coffee of her life. She starts over and dares a peek at Loki, he meets her eyes knowingly but only smiles. She doesn't dare to look up again until the perfect cups are ready.

"And an orange juice, fresh, and a large slice of that caramel-apple pie. Put it all on a tray."

She cuts a quarter of the pie and puts it on a plate if he wants large, he will have large and pours the juice. When she is ready she pushes the tray slightly forward on the counter. There is no free place for him to sit and eat inside, only next to Grace and she has almost fainted from fear. Many other patrons don't look better.

"Thank you, Kelly."

Then he turns on his heel and walks up to the seat where the businessman who was first to the door is seated. He starts to go sickly green when he looks up at the mad god.

"Take the phone out from under the table, please."

The command is so calm it's scary and everyone holds their breath.

"May I?" Loki holds out a hand and the businessman hands over his smartphone.

"911?" Loki looks at the man who is looking at the phone as if it has just betrayed him. "Predictable, Martin, so predictable." _Chiding_, Kelly thinks absently, _we're all children to him_.

Businessman, now identified as Martin, gulps audibly and closes his eyes. Everyone is waiting for something horrible to happen.

"Let's make that call, shall we, Martin?"

All eyes follow the slide of the finger over the smartphone's screen and in complete silence the small sound of the ringing seems very loud. Everyone can hear the _9-1-1, what's your emergency?_ that soon follows.

"Go on, Martin, what's your emergency?" Loki offers him the phone but Martin is now shaking his head and mumbling _no_ and _nothing_ quietly.

"No?" Loki sounds disappointed and then puts the phone to his own ear.

"Good day, madam. I would like to inform you that I have taken 26 people hostage in central New York, in Redvale Building at the Petite Café. I am Loki of Asgard and I will not let anyone go unless my demands have been met. Do send your finest."

He ends the call and places the phone in front of Martin who just stares at it. He turns and walks up to Kelly who is still behind the counter.

"How much?" he asks. Kelly looks at him, looks at the tray and then looks back up again, shakes her head. No, surely not, he doesn't expect to pay, does he?

"Oh, no, I insist. How much?"

With shaking hands Kelly puts the order in and adds the loyal customer discount, just in case. The chime of the cash register, usually a cheery sound, makes her flinch.

"18, 25, sir." She meets his eyes on reflex; she always meets the customer's eyes. He takes out a wad of bills and hands them over. They are all hundred.

"Keep it. And let everyone have a cuppa. On me." He smiles, picks up the tray with one hand and turns, his clothes shift to normal human ware and he quietly exits the shop. Everyone looks on from the front windows as he sits down at a table that has never been there before and sips calmly from a cup.

Grace finally faints.

TBC

* * *

A/N: To my knowledge there is no Redvale Building in Manhattan, this is deliberate choice on my behalf. Also, I could have gone with Starbucks but Petite Café is (probably) not real and therefore a much safer target.


	3. Chapter 3

Should Nick Fury ever make a list of things he likes to do for relaxation it would go something like this:

- Smoke a cigar. Preferably a Cuban. In a perfect world he would do this in his office but thanks to recent legislations this is not possible. No lung cancer is going to put Nick Fury into a grave, should it come down to it there are plenty of people who would not begrudge him a bullet.

- Go fishing. A cliché, true, but there is something to be said about sitting by a body of water and effectively doing nothing. Fish are not his objective, should he catch any they can always be released back to freedom.

- Eat Korean food. He was very young when he fought in the Korean War and it made an impression on him. The food is one positive thing he has taken with him from that time long past.

- Watch crap reality-TV. Now this he would not admit to even under torture but it is true. Seeing the people who actually live in the 'real' world, the people he is to serve and protect, eating bugs for money puts things into perspective. And is amusing.

One thing that would never be on such a list is solving puzzles. He doesn't enjoy them at all. There are plenty of people in his employ who do, that is fine, but he doesn't have to go there. Loki is one such puzzle Fury could do without. Especially on a Monday.

When Fury gets the call about Redvale Building he knows immediately that something is terribly wrong. This is not Loki. This is not the man he has grown to know from camera feeds and paper reports. Loki doesn't do hostages. If he did he could do better than a group of civilians in some café. Jane Foster for one would make an excellent hostage for Loki and yet he has never gone near her.

Fury is in fact in New York that day. Clearly not a coincidence. Avengers are notified and Fury loses good ten minutes of time telling them to back off and not to engage. He half expects them to do it anyways. But for once Stark must be outvoted by the more clear minded individuals on the team and Fury is thankful for his own foresight of putting two of his best agents in there. Half the time he still thinks that Widow and Hawk are going rogue on him but that is the price he has to pay. And it must help that Thor is off planet.

He's at Redvale Building within thirty minutes and by the time he gets there agent Billings is ready to meet him. Billings reminds Fury of Coulson a little who, alive, but promoted, no longer does field assignments. Billings hands Fury an earpiece, list of people they assume are in the café and a bottle of water. He skims over the list and hands it back. Those people are not even remotely important in this scenario.

FBI is there also and are demanding jurisdiction. If Loki can hear this, and Fury has no reason to assume that he can't, then he must be enjoying himself immensely. He looks over, across the huge open atrium to where Loki is seated with a cup of coffee and cake. Loki waves merrily at him and after a second of contemplation Fury nods back. This brings the attention of what appears to be the lead agent of FBI. Fury takes one look at her as she heads towards him, looking like a battering ram, and decides she's not worth it. He gives a minuscule nod to Billings who immediately moves to intercept her and takes off towards Loki.

His earpiece is connected to Black Widow who has after all ample experience with the god. She conforms for Fury what he already knows. Loki has an agenda. One that has nothing to do with the people in the café.

It takes him 38 seconds to reach Loki's table. With those 38 seconds he swiftly thinks over what he remembers of assessments of how to communicate with him. So far their face-to-face encounters have been very limited and excluding that one time on Helicarrier also very impersonal. What he remembers is as follows: be polite, do not show fear, don't try to appear smarter than you are, do NOT under any circumstance bring up his family. So, all in all, almost like talking to Tony Stark, only with the added incentive of people's lives hanging in the balance and trying to be polite about it all. It will probably work out just as well, also. Fury doesn't do polite but he does pissed off pretty darn well.

"This seat taken?" he allows himself to be sarcastic, after all, Nick Fury as his lunch date was one of Loki's demands.

"By all means, Nicholas," Loki smiles his manic smile and Fury sees that he is truly enjoying himself. "Do you mind if I call you Nicholas?"

Fury does mind, always has, "Oh, no, please do," all the sarcasm in the air could be cut with a knife. Loki chuckles and pushes the orange juice across the table.

"Here. I took the liberty of ordering something for you." Fury eyes the glass suspiciously. It could be anything in there.

"If you are not going to drink it, Nicholas, then please put that lovely toy in your ear in it. I would very much prefer if it was just you and me."

"You are aware that there are five snipers aiming at you right now? One of whom is Hawkeye." Fury watches for a reaction very carefully. 26 lives depend on him not to make a mistake. And then he sees it. A small flicker, something more than just manic thrill and adrenaline, no, it's almost like relief. A cold chill runs down Fury's back as he is reminded that the man before him is suicidal and has been gearing for an endgame for quite a while.

"Yes, I am very well aware and should something happen to me. Oh, let's say an arrow through an eye, then I might just lose control over the little spell I have over the café and all the people in it will perish."

Loki takes the last bite out of his pie and seems, on the outside, quite calm and collected. Fury doesn't like it. His gut is telling him that Loki is on a very short fuse and could go off easily. He doesn't want to lose the earpiece because any insight could be useful. Nick Fury is not a man who should lead any hostage negotiation.

"You heard him! Everybody stand down!" He doesn't shout it, he commands quietly into the earpiece and knows he will be obeyed that Black Widow will get it done. He also knows that all the snipers are still aiming at Loki's head. He places the small water bottle on the table, uncaps it and lets the earpiece – his only connection to backup – slip in and die. Then he reaches for the orange juice and takes a sip. Loki smiles triumphantly.

"It is customary, if some of your demands are met, to let some of your hostages go," Fury is taking a gamble here, asking for people to be let go. Only thing he has to go on now is his own intuition and assessments written of Loki by people who have never met him or anyone like him.

"Oh, is it now?" Loki meets Fury's eye again. This is a game. For both of them. Two master players but horribly outbalanced. Loki plays as if he has nothing to lose. And truly, what has he got to lose? Fury? He has exactly 26 lives to lose plus his own and more if Loki chooses to go out with a bang.

"There is a pregnant lady with a child in there. Will they do?" Loki's smile is so fake it should belong on a face of a bad actor, Fury thinks. Molly Andrews and her son of five Jeremy – they must be scared out of their minds. As far as good will goes, they would do very nicely. Fury nods. Loki gives a glance over his shoulder into the café and Fury follows his look. A clone or an illusion, Fury has no idea, of Loki's springs to life in the café and people visibly startle – Fury can see it but he can't hear it. Interesting – he files it away should it prove important.

He sees Molly get up and grip Jeremy to herself as they slowly move towards the door. It opens and Fury sees her slump in relief. As she walks past them she doesn't look up, Jeremy does and Fury can see that he is scared but not too much, he'll be fine. Loki too follows them with his eyes, half smile on his face. When the mother and son are almost across the atrium a group of armed SWAT men surround them and carry them away. 26 has been brought down to 24, small success.

"Speaking of traditions how did you like my demands?" Loki speaks idly, like there aren't lives at stake and Fury thinks if this is the only way Loki trusts people to be honest with him – under duress. If this is the only way Loki can have a civil conversation – when everything is on his terms, when he controls all.

"I thought they were very traditional. I personally liked the helicopter, nice touch." Fury had thought that the helicopter was a nice touch, very Hollywood, along with the ransom demand. But the second he heard them he had known that Loki didn't for one moment care if he got any of that – all of it was fake as snow in Florida. The only real demand had been Nicholas Fury and this little sit down and that Loki got without anyone protesting. "You forgot the pilot though, to fly it."

Loki throws his head back and gives an amused bark of laughter, short and rehearsed. "I knew there was something!"

"Let's cut the crap, Loki. Do you mind if I call you Loki, Loki?" Fury is not a negotiator and he can't pretend to be. So he is going to be who he is – a bad ass motherfucker who isn't afraid of Loki. Fury leans on the table, both hands in fists and looks Loki in the eye.

"Oh, please do, Nicholas, please do." Loki, who had been leaning back on his chair, mirrors Fury now and they sit behind the small table almost touching.

"What is this _really_ about?" Fury has no idea, he really doesn't. Loki has been quiet for the past month or two, no one knew if he was even on Earth or had wondered off, like he seemed to do sometimes.

"Tell me Nicholas, what is project Lazarus?"

Fury's mind goes blank for a second. Cold sweat breaks out on his back and he struggles to keep the surprise off his face.

"Or should I say Project PK92j85?"

Project PK92j85 or Project Lazarus as it is called by the very limited number of people who have any knowledge of it, is so top secret that it isn't even filed anywhere, computer or otherwise. So how the fuck does Loki know?

"People take notes, Nicholas," Loki's voice is mild but he looks livid. And if he has read 'notes' as he said. Then. Well. That is not good at all. Fury meets Loki's eye, steady and unafraid.

"What do you want me to say, Loki? Sorry?"

"Do _not_ mock me!" he snarls and Fury would back off if he could. He's all of a sudden very aware that he is just a human. Just flesh and blood while Loki is a god with a fleeting acquaintance with sanity.

"I mock you not, sir." Even as he is saying it he already knows it is the wrong thing to say. Wrong thing to say with a smile and mimicking Loki and Thor's way of speaking.

Loki moves. The table between them is overturned, dishes crash to the floor like casualties of domestic abuse. Fury is struggling for air because Loki's hand is crushing his throat and he can't dislodge him.

"Then _what_ are you trying to do, Nicholas?"

Loki's left hand comes up so fast Fury doesn't even see it. But he also didn't see Barton's arrow that was aiming at Loki's head that Loki caught. Stupid, idiot, trigger happy Hawkeye, Fury thinks. Loki gives him just barely enough air to breathe and to speak, so he could choke out a reply.

"Recruit you."

Loki stalls for a moment. Genuine shock on his face for just one second, gone with a blink. He narrows his eyes, bares his teeth for a moment and then pushes Fury away from himself.

Fury sprawls on the floor hand on his throat suddenly free to breathe again.

Loki is gone.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all who have reviewed and favourited - it keeps me going. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3 - Korean

Off duty. Fury is off duty for at least a week. He scarcely knows what to do with that. Loki nearly crushed his throat. He has a magnificent bruise around his neck and has trouble swallowing. The SHIELD doctor who looked him over tried to have him admitted to a hospital but Fury told him where he could shove that notion.

The doctor retaliated by taking him off duty for a week and putting him on light duty for two after that. That bastard. Hill had been almost jumping from joy. And Fury can't just ignore such an order – that would be setting a bad example to agents working under him.

So, after being kicked out from his own headquarters, he had to do something with himself. Officially Fury had just the one cabin in the woods by a lake in Florida where he goes on his downtime. Unofficially he had a townhouse in Washington DC. Secretly he had a retirement plan and a house in the Bahamas but no one needed to know _that_.

But since he was in New York he chose to go to Washington and catch up on a year's worth of sleep. It wasn't like he had anything better to do.

The next night he got Korean take-out. Enough to tide him over for a week. He camped out on his sofa before his TV and got ready to watch _Top Shot_. It took about three episodes for Fury to push down the soldier in him that got outraged at people, often army people, failing to take simplest shots under duress. After that he could enjoy the show and idly wonder if he could take some of those challenges on.

Spicy noodle seafood soup – his favourite, maybe not the easiest of things on his throat but just what he craved. He has been ordering Korean food from Kim's Kitchen for the past eleven years and it's the best Korean he has ever eaten outside of Korea itself.

He's off duty, at home, in his sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, watching reality TV – to say that Loki takes him by surprise is to put it mildly. It's a close call but he nearly spills the soup all over himself. Nothing gives a rude guest away quite like a knife to the host's throat.

There is a sharp blade pressed against his jugular – really terribly noticeable. Slightest wrong move and his throat will be slit and he will bleed to death in a matter of seconds. All this registers in Fury's mind in a detached way – like something happening to someone else. All he can think about when the steel first touches him and he registers just who must be holding it, is that he really should have seen it coming. _Really_. He should have.

As it is, he has no back-up, no weapon and no one expecting to hear from him for days. He is well and truly fucked.

"I have killed men for slights lesser than yours, Nicholas." Loki's voice is steady. Just as steady as his hand holding the blade. Fury does his best not to swallow even if he really wants to.

"No doubt you have," Fury keeps himself calm.

He contemplates stabbing the chopsticks that he still holds in his right hand up. If it was anyone else standing behind him he might succeed in catching their eye but it is Loki and Fury knows better than to try.

"My loyalties are not for sale!"

The pressure of the blade strengthens some and Fury is forced to lean his head back. He can feel a cough forming and does his best to supress it. He can't, a cough retches out and forces his neck into the knife. A small trickle of blood runs down and disappears into his black shirt. For a moment more Loki holds the knife to Fury's throat just to prove a point and then suddenly he steps back and walks around the couch into Fury's line of sight.

Fury is slightly surprised to see Loki out of his armour and in normal human clothes. Just black jeans and a grey shirt and a sport's jacket on top of it – on a street he would pass for any late twenties, early thirties fit and good looking man – almost nondescript, really. Fury realizes that it's a ploy but to what end he can't tell yet.

They hold each other's eye until Fury can't stand it anymore and he waves with his chopsticks towards the open and still hot food.

"Help yourself to some Korean."

He hopes to surprise Loki with the offer and unbalance him a little. But at the same time he doesn't hope for much. Knowing Loki – and truth be told, Fury thinks no-one really does – the bastard sees Fury coming a mile off. For a moment Fury wonders if the whole show in New York the day before was just that – a show, to get Fury alone and woundable. He chooses to think on it later and concentrate on staying alive now.

Loki eyes the food like it could crawl out its boxes – the look of utter disgust on his face would be amusing, had it been anyone else. Fury fully expects him to decline with some derogatory remark but then to his surprise Loki picks up a box – sweet and sour pork with ginger – and dumps some of it on a bowl that sure as hell doesn't belong to Fury, and unceremoniously digs in. With chopsticks. And the bloody bastard has the gall to look good while doing so.

Fury catches himself staring. The he takes another careful bite of shrimp and lets it go. He knows when he isn't running the show. Fury, not for a second, allows himself to believe that he can somehow control Loki's actions. He made that mistake when they first met. He underestimated Loki. Story of Loki's life, probably.

Fury sips slowly from the edge of his bowl and keeps his eye on Loki who is seated on the armchair and seems to be watching TV as some guy, built quite like Thor, if Fury thinks about it now, fails repeatedly to get a shot at a fairly easy target. Next to him, a short pixyish girl lands her shots like the professional she is. Fury idly wonders what a TV-showdown between superhumans would turn out like. Fun to watch for sure.

"You're old," Loki says without moving his eyes from the TV – as if making idle conversation.

"Excuse me?" Fury manages to sound indignant but really he shouldn't – he is old, much too old for this shit, really.

"Human your age should be dead or in … what do you call it?" Loki snaps his fingers, searching for an unfamiliar word, "…retirement home, yes?"

Fury blinks, out of all the things… his age? Well fuck that. But it isn't a very well-guarded secret anyway these days, and Loki probably already knows and is just confirming from the source.

"Infinity Formula, back in the 70s when drugs were all the rage. Can't get that shit anymore – some people consider human modification immoral."

Fury fishes a baby octopus out of his soup and chews on it slowly. Infinity Formula – on paper one of the many attempts to replicate what had been done with Steve Rogers but in reality the idea of it predated the Supersoldier Serum. Unsuccessful in the main – highly addictive with only minor healing capabilities – its only saving grace had been that it prolonged the ageing process. The formula was lost now and Fury made doubly sure that it stayed that way. He was one of the few people who took it that was still alive or sane. No one should go through that shit again.

"And yet you raise the likes of Captain America to stand above you like gods," Loki is still watching TV and the comment on Rogers is so off-handed and bored that it is clear to Fury – heroes and gods is not what this conversation is really about. The challenge on TV now involves machine guns mounted on trucks – Fury hopes Loki isn't getting any ideas from that.

"Ah well, Steve Rogers is a special case…" …and he is, Fury thinks. The likes of Steve Rogers are very rare.

Loki places his empty bowl on the coffee table and looks at Fury with assessing and suddenly very serious eyes, "You have served your country for a very long time. Longer even then the good Captain, really."

"I have," Fury isn't entirely sure where Loki is leading with this, but fine, he can play along.

"Tell me, have you been awarded many honours for your services?"

"Some," Fury has a safety deposit box under a false name that holds all his awards. He will admit to some sentimentality when it comes to that but most of those medals in that box aren't his. They belong to his fallen comrades and friends long dead.

"I suppose your position now is your greatest reward?"

"You could say that," Fury would not.

"How many people, aside from your organisation, would recognise you for what you have done for your people?" by now Loki was breathing slightly harder and his eyes were very bright – angry, very angry if it was showing even this much.

"Very few."

"But at least you are not scorned? You are not hated for what you are?!" Loki's voice has gotten very quiet.

"No," and now Fury knows where Loki has led him. Straight to the problem – Asgard's betrayal of Loki.

Loki nodded and looked away, "I am." He got up and stood by the window, back to Fury, looking at the quiet street in front of him with quiet houses and modest cars. Now would be a good time to go for a gun but Fury chooses not to.

"I didn't give years. I gave centuries! I didn't give my loyalty. I gave my soul!"

He didn't scream. Even now. Fury was sure no one else had ever heard this. He had to admire the collectedness that had to be present in this man.

Loki turned around and looked at Fury, "You and I are the same. We both know that. I had people. In Asgard and elsewhere. I might still have some of them. I can never use them again._ I_ cannot be used the same way again. So you see, Director Fury, I know what you are going to propose to me. I would propose the same. And I'm going to have to tell you that I can never, and I do mean _never_, give again what I gave to Asgard. It's not in me. Not anymore."

Fury stands and faces Loki, "And I would never ask you to."

"Really?!" Loki is disbelieving, rightly so but Fury ploughs on.

"I _have_ given my soul to this. We _are_ the same. Should my country try to do to me what Asgard has done to you? I don't know what I might do. I might take the country from them; Lord knows I have the means. But I don't see you terrorising Asgard. You are here, on Earth and you are self-destructing. And I think I know why. Because for all they have done to you, you still love that land and you can't really fight against them, not without dying inside. So all I ask, really, all I hope, is that you stop. Move on! Do you want to become SHIELD's consultant? I welcome you. Do you want to get a house in Siberia and grow snow foxes? Be my guest. But don't waste yourself by suicide!"

"Snow foxes? Really?" Loki smiles, Fury smirks back.

"Cutest motherfuckers out there. I'll make you do to therapy before."

Loki shakes his head but not as a no but more in disbelief.

"And your plan?"

"Simple. We kill you."

* * *

A/N: (For those of you who are (not) familiar with Nick Fury from the comics or for those who just want to know) Originally Nick Fury started out during the WWII and served alongside Captain America. Now this fanfic is more of a movies fanfic than it is comics – so obviously I have taken some (a lot) liberties. In _this_ story Fury first joined the army and served in the Korean War. He also served in Vietnam and after that was recruited by the CIA. He first received the Infinity Formula during the Vietnam War after he had lost an eye. Fury was a spy for about 20 years. I imagine that the SHIELD had to get started somewhere during the late 90s to be where it was for when we first hear of it in the movies. So in a sense the 70 years Steve spent on ice Fury was kicking ass.

Does this make sense? It makes sense to me…

I have received some compliments for how I portray Fury. Thank you all so much! I work quite hard on him. He is a slippery bastard and keeps on changing on me. By nailing down his history I hope to get a better grip on him, so to speak.

Thank you to everyone who reads, reviews, favourites or follows – it all keeps me going :).


End file.

Avengers, Angst