For once, the Avengers had been called to assemble and there wasn’t anything burning. No one was dying and nothing was being destroyed. Except, perhaps, Tony’s peace of mind.
Every chair in the tower’s common room was occupied.
There were the five mortal Avengers, plus that one-eyed Fury and his shadow Hill, Phil because he was the Avengers’ liaison, Pepper because she lived here too—and two gods,
one of which Tony would have been quite happy never to see again.
Why they had appeared on his roof instead of SHIELD’s headquarters, Tony desperately wanted to know so he could tear the reasoning to shreds.
He hadn’t had enough coffee to deal with this kind of bullshit.
The gods were cuffed together and Thor had refused to sit, so Loki’s arm dangled up above his head where he sat on the ottoman, glaring at the floor like he could set it on fire.
Tony didn’t doubt that he could.
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