Loki Misses the Asgardian Prison System

Chapter 157

It's the afternoon of Thanksgiving Eve, and Clint had asked the other day if Loki would mind having the rest of the Barton family over. He played dumb – the others know about your family? – but, of course, he didn't object. He's not sure he would have been allowed to object. It very well could have been a rhetorical question, though he did seem to ask it earnestly. It hardly matters to him. He doesn't plan to get in their way.

Instead, he spends the day in the common room, binge-watching his favorite movies for the umpteenth time, as though he doesn't know them by heart already. Right now, Tangled is playing, and he's just as caught up in the action (and the romance) as he was the first time he watched it. It still breaks his heart when Mother Gothel tricks Rapunzel into thinking Flynn left her. It's so clear how much they both care about each other.

He's so entranced in his movie that he doesn't even hear the approaching footsteps until the doorway is already full of people – and he truly does mean full. It seems Clint and Natasha have brought the entire Barton family to the common room, and it is not a small family.

Loki's seen the movie so many times that he doesn't bother pausing it, but he does turn his attention to the Bartons (and Natasha). He's not entirely sure what the proper course of action is right now, so he just says an awkward, "Hello," and hopes they'll do the rest.

"Do you ever watch new movies?" Natasha asks, glancing at the screen with an amused smile.

"No."

Natasha huffs a laugh. "Hey, whatever floats your boat."

Clint steps in with, "I just wanted to let you know that my family's here, just so, you know, if you run into them in the compound..."

"I appreciate that," Loki says, though he'd already been told this morning that they were coming so he's fairly certain he could have figured it out. He's sure he could place this unknown woman as Clint's wife, the two kids are obviously his children, and if he somehow finds himself alone with this baby that's probably smaller than his forearm, there must be something wrong.

His wife offers him a friendly smile. "I'm Laura," she tells him. "We met very briefly on Christmas Eve a few years ago."

It takes him a moment to remember what she's talking about. He'd been so busy trying to help Tony and save Pepper that he'd hardly even registered that she was there at the time. They certainly didn't exchange any words. But, in technical terms, that probably does count as meeting.

"It's lovely to re-meet you," he says.

Clint's daughter takes a step into the room, eyes glued to the TV. "Is that Rapunzel?"

"It looks like it," Clint says. "Come here; let's–"

"Can I watch?"

Clint sucks in a breath through his teeth. "You know, sweetie, maybe we should..." He glances at Laura helplessly. "We should go look for Mr. Bruce."

"Aww!" she whines.

Loki's not sure if this is going to help or hurt Clint's efforts, but he says, "If she wants to watch, I don't mind keeping an eye on her – unless you'd rather she stay with you." It gives him an easy out. If he doesn't trust Loki with his daughter – and of course he shouldn't trust Loki with his daughter; he certainly hasn't earned that trust – Loki's already provided him the excuse and the opportunity to take it.

But Clint surprises him. "Are you sure you wouldn't mind?"

"I'll be here for a while either way."

Clint pats his daughter on the head. "Alright. Be good. Tell FRIDAY if you need me."