Witchcraft (An Avengers/Witchblade Fanfic) DISCONTINUED

A Little Bit Closer

(A/N: Now I'm not sure how this chapter will go, but I will rewrite stuff when i eventually finish the story. I have a plan, I know what I want to happen, it's just a matter of creating the events to get there. And I know what I want not to happen. Does anyone else have a problem with fanfics that overly-humanise Loki and Thor? STORY, GO!)

Four hours of panic, 5 S.H.I.E.L.D Spec Ops teams and 1 evacuated downtown Manhattan later, we found him. And not in any place I'd expected. We found him sitting outside a Starbucks, coffee in hand, a shopping bag next to his leg, just chilling. Fury went off his head, so did Steve. The fact that they had no idea where he had gone had caused everyone to freak out a bit, but understandably so. Because of the Tesseract incident, they couldn't be too careful. But I had a feeling he wasn't up to something. I mean, if you were a super villain pretending to be a good guy, as a part of your diabolical plan, you wouldn't wait eight months before making a move. That's just a waste of time. He could've taken over Belgium, Jamaica or Morocco by now. As he was ushered by Thor into the quinjet, Fury was ranting to Stark about security measures and to make sure Loki doesn't present any form of danger to society. I told him that if Loki wanted to make a power play, he would've done it months ago. Clint agreed, but still wanted to keep an eye on him. Everyone is a liability in their own way. How come no one panicked when I wandered off into the city? I could be the homicidal maniac... Double-standards.

~~~~~~~

6:30 pm and I was watching the city that never sleeps slow down to as near a halt as it could. Tony and Steve had left for Washington as soon as we'd found Loki, Thor was gone as soon as he was back in the tower. Bruce had left at 3 for his lecture, he told me he wouldn't be back till late as he was going out for for dinner with a colleague. Clint had gone out to pick up Chinese for dinner. I was sitting on a chair on the balcony, legs folded beneath me, watching the sunset make the surrounding buildings gleam a fiery orange. I sighed, soaking up the last rays of sunshine. I need some excitement, some fighting. So where are all the evil villains in this city? I heard there was a new mob boss in Queens. Some guy named Kingpin. Hey, if nothing happens in the next three days, I'll go check that out. Might save us some work later in the year. I lay back in the chair and looked up at the darkening sky, my feet up on the railing. I heard the glass door slide open a few meters behind me.

"Fox?"

I tilted my head upside down over the back of the chair and smiled. "Hey. What can I do for you, Loki?"

He walked over slowly, his leather boots padding softly on the pavement. The orange glow from the waning sun rays made him look like he'd had a bad spray tan. I smiled to myself. He stood next to the chair, folded his arms and leaned on the railing, his deep green cotton shirt rustling with the movement.

"Did you get a haircut?" I asked randomly.

He shrugged. "It was getting too long for me to easily manage."

"It looks better short." I nodded. Instead of being halfway down his back, he'd had it cut off to shoulder length. I had to admit, with the shirt and dark jeans he was wearing, he could've been some European model on a business trip from Siberia or something. He brushed a stray hair off his face and turned to me.

"May I ask you something?"

"Um, yeah, I guess." I rubbed my arm for no reason. What? "Shoot."

"After I left this morning, to run errands, without notifying anyone, S.H.I.E.L.D panicked. So did the Avengers. But not you. Why?" He eyed me carefully. I met his gaze, shrugged and looked back at the sky, now a cold, deep, dark blue.

"I dunno." I replied. "I honestly don't know."

"They did not brief you on my... Previous actions?"

I looked at him skeptically. "No. Anything I know about the Chitauri invasion, and you, I learnt off the Internet, which is about as reliable as an angry lion. There weren't even straight numbers about the death toll. Depending on the source, you killed between 80 and eight million people."

He scoffed, but didn't say anything. I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them. "Besides," I continued. "I've probably done worse things than you. And if you really wanted to be an arse and stab everyone in the back, you wouldn't have waited eight months for an opportunity."

"True. But I have killed many nonetheless." He looked at me curiously. "What makes you say that you have done worse?"

I shrugged. "This is what I've gathered from the shitty rumours on the Internet and what you told me last week: you're a spoiled second child of the king of another realm. You were never viewed as being good enough for anything, you were jealous of your brother, but tried not to show it. One day, your brother does something stupid and you discover you're adopted and that makes you hate your dad even more. Dad banishes your brother here and he can't come back until he's learned his lesson. You, in the meantime, confront your dad about whatever you learned, and then somehow come to power. Your brother comes back, defeats you and you supposedly die. But then you turn up and destroy a S.H.I.E.L.D facility. Its been described as a tantrum because you are mentally scared or something, with a bag of cats for a brain. You then turn up in Germany, then get caught by the Avengers, then escape, then the Chitauri invade and lose, and you're taken back to Asgard. Compared to you, the god with daddy issues, I'm a complete mess."

He laughed sadly. "You make the past few years sound so pathetic."

"Well years are just a blip in the time stream for you immortals."

"So tell me how you are worse."

"And turn this into even more of a self-pity sesh?" I scoffed. "I don't think so. I don't even know why we keep talking. I don't even know why I'm still here. I just don't know anymore."

He turned to face the building and continued to lean on the rail. "At least you do not pretend to know everything there is to know, like others I know of. I have no idea why we talk either. Maybe it is some sort of response to the lack of purpose here."

I looked up at him. I was about to speak when something flew over our heads with a whoosh, leaving a trail of light in its wake.

"I didn't know Stark was going to be back tonight. Weren't he and Steve staying overnight in Washington?"

"I do not think that was Stark. He has an aversion to magic, and I can feel it radiating from that machine."

"That sounded so weird." I muttered, still watching the light trail. Suddenly, at least 12 more flew by. "I think something may be happening..."

Clint burst in, all suited up, ready for action. "Sorry for interrupting anything, but we've got a situation."

"Well lets go." I called over my shoulder as I walked towards the elevator. "Innocents to protect, weird robots to destroy, come on. Fun to be had."