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Near Mint	By : OmniaVanitus Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 2735 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story. No money is being made from this story.

Chapter List
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"Impressive," Loki said as he stepped forward from out of the darkness, seemingly unfazed by the weapon pointed at him. He spread his arms out wide in a show that he was unarmed, claiming a seat on the couch opposite the agent. "By all means," he began, "fire if it will put yo‒" His head snapped back violently as a loud gunshot rang out.
Several seconds pass in silence before the god finally righted himself, his head coming up to reveal no visible sign of injury, though his poisonous green eyes were narrowed dangerously at the agent.
"I have to admit," Coulson said, his gun still raised, "I was expecting a clone."
Loki tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, his lips slowly twisting into a devious smirk. "In that case, Agent Coulson, I suggest you turn around."
The man did, turning just in time to see a pale, long fingered hand reaching out for him. Their struggle was brief and he was quickly overpowered, he wasn't quite a hundred percent yet and even if he was he'd still be no match for the god. Their first encounter was proof enough of that.
The clone steered him forcefully towards the couch he'd been headed for just moments before where he was shoved down unceremoniously onto the cushions. Coulson sat frozen to the spot, not from fear, no, his training wouldn't allow for that, but from whatever spell Loki's clone had cast on him. And all from a single touch to his shoulder.
His heart was hammering in his chest, and though he could feel a trickle of sweat slide down the back of his neck, his features were schooled into his usual cordial mask. The gun was still in his hand though, lying their uselessly with his finger lingering on the trigger, but the god made no move to disarm him.
"Aren't you supposed to be locked up in Asgard," the agent asked casually.
Loki's smile was slow and dangerous as it spread across his face. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"
"I was for a time."
"Oh, do tell."
"Eight seconds."
The god made a face, a mixture of disappointment and mock sympathy. "Is that all?"
Coulson shrugged or would have if he could move. "It's possible I was dead for longer."
Loki tilted his head again with that same measured look. "A few days by my estimation."
Coulson didn't reply, merely watched in silence as the god sat forward to gather up the bloodstained cards that had still been spread out on the coffee table and thumbed through them with a disgusted sneer.
"Why are you here," the agent asked firmly.
"We have some business, I believe."
"Do we?"
There was a long pause before Loki finally answered. "I'm here to make amends."
"Amends," Coulson asked, disbelievingly. "For what, trying to take over Earth? For the mental rape of Agent Barton and Eric Selvig? For the eighty plus agents you killed or the thousands more of innocent civilians? Or perhaps for my own murder?"
"The last one," Loki clarified.
Coulson couldn't stop the derisive snort that escaped him. "Did my death move you that much?"
Loki gave a half-hearted shrugged in response. "You died bravely," he admitted.
"You cut my heart in half." He was trying, he really was, to stay collected, but the bitterness that saturated his words was all too evident and the god pulled his eyes away from the cards to focus on the agent sitting across from him. "Do you even know how much I had to give up because of that, how much I lost? Do you even care?"
"Not really, no." He bent the cards in his hand carelessly, ignoring the agent's wince, and released them into the air, letting them spew out in an arch and flutter to the carpet.
"Then why are you here?"
Loki gave a long suffering sigh. "I was sentenced to spend the rest of my life in the dungeons of Asgard for my crimes against Midgard," he began. "However, it seems that our beloved Thor has been learning more and more about your law practices here on this planet, thanks to that woman of his, no doubt. Between him and my mother, Frigga, they have somehow managed to convince the Allfather to commute my sentence. What's that word you mortals use? Ah yes, parole."
"Parole?"
"Yes, I am on parole. And as long as I can play nice with you mortals, I am but a free man."
"Just like that?"
"There are some provisions concerning this newfound leniency of Odin's such as the typical no mischief, murder or mayhem clause that always seems to accompany any of these rulings the Allfather has in my regards, but the most important of which is to make amends with those I've wronged in this realm. A tedious task, but believe you me, Agent Coulson, considering that the alternative is to spend the rest of my life, and we Æsir are so very long lived, locked up in a cell and hidden away like some dirty little secret...well, I would have died of boredom long before I ever died of old age and well after the denizens of this planet have long since forgotten my crimes against them."
"I can tell showing signs of remorse or guilt is not a factor in your parole."
"Indeed. Though no doubt the Allfather believes it will come in time. I do have a lot to atone for after all and it will be a long time before I've finished."
"You'll excuse me if I don't weep over your predicament."
"Of course," the god agreed with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I imagined there would be a few adverse reactions to my release."
"Damn right," Coulson said sternly. "Especially considering you're now in my home and you've already attacked me."
"To be fair, Agent Coulson, you shot me first."
"To be fair, you murdered me. How did you even know I was alive anyway?"
"Thor may have watched you die, but it was Heimdall who watched you be revived...and with such cruelty I might add. And my brother," he spat, the word dripping with venom, "is nothing but a sentimental fool."
"I'm surprised Thor didn't force you to make up with him as well."
"Oh, but he did," Loki admitted. "We relived our glory of old through song and drink and bonded anew over a long and rather trying hunt." Coulson stared blankly at him making Loki sigh in exasperation. "After everything I've done, that damned oaf still intends to live in the past."
"And now that you're here, how do you plan on appeasing me?"
Loki gave him a mischievous grin. "Oh, I'm certain we can come up with something, Agent Coulson." He sat forward then, resting an arm on a bent knee as he stared critically at the man across from him. "Is there something with which I can tempt you?"
"You could apologize."
"Would you believe me if I did?"
"No, I wouldn't," Coulson admitted with a shake of his head. "Unfortunately, I'll have to decline anything else. Some, myself included, would view this as an attempt at bribery."
"I see," the god said, slowly climbing to his feet and stalking forward, his boots stepping uncaringly over the cards littering the floor. "I can assure you, Agent Coulson, that you don't have a choice in the matter."
"So you're going to force me into letting you atone?"
"The alternative is unacceptable." Loki stood in front of him now as he stared down at him, his green eyes glinting dangerously. "So tell me, Agent Coulson, do I still lack conviction?"
The agent didn't answer, but the grip on his gun tightened. Something that did not go unnoticed by the dark god looming above him.
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Near Mint