When Loki got back from his daily walk, there was someone in his flat.
Loki opened the door slowly, gathering himself to defend or attack if necessary, and ended up simply staring at the human,
quite unremarkable in appearance (that already made him different from the others), sitting at the desk and drinking a cup of
tea. “Luke’s the name you’re going by?” he said, setting down the cup and standing up. “Hello. I’m Agent Phil Coulson. I thought maybe it was time we had a real talk.
You’re a hard man to get in touch with.”
It would be quite easy, Loki mused, to rip out this
throat with his bare hands. He did not think that his landlady would approve, though, and he had become a touch fond of the old woman. He stayed where he was.
“I do not take kindly to intruders,” he informed his guest. The Agent half smiled.
“You can talk to your landlady. She let me in. Good woman. Said you were a – ‘nice young man.’”
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