The regent sat upon his throne, overlooking the room filled with his subjects. There was no smile on his face, no positive emotion acknowledging that he was glad to see his subjects well and happy as they celebrated yet another victory for Asgard. Thor had finally managed to break Vanaheim down and take the realm as his own, extending his rule even farther. There were no negotiations. Just blood and death.

Heimdall approached him half way through the party. "My king, there is something you should know. I feel something breaching our defenses. It's not an army, just one being but I cannot see them."

She'd come down into the mess hall later than usual -- well, later than the stipulated lunch hours, anyway -- which was actually fairly usual for her, workaholic that she was. (It was a really bad habit and she needed to change it but it was hard when you had a teensy weensy team in charge of media relations for four Jaeger teams and the rest of the Shatterdome, okay?)

Fury walked into the SHIELD headquarters one morning, knowing something about today would get on his nerves. And he was right. The instant he was through the door, several agents came running up to him. Apparently, Loki had been found just outside of Nevada, comatose and unresponsive, but still very much alive. He had been taken into custody and to a secure handling facility just before Fury had arrived.

"Call Stark. Find out where Banner, Rogers and Thor are and recall Romanov and Barton."

A few short hours later, Fury was in the holding cell with Loki. The god was wrapped up in what looked like a full-body straight jacket that attached to the table he was laying on. The one-eyed spy regarded Loki coldly. "So here you are again, and you can't even open your eyes enough to give a snarky comment back. Stark should learn from you."

"Did you call me, honey?" Tony perked up, coming through the door behind Fury. "I know I'm late, but I made up for it by bringing the coffee and doughnuts. Okay, I lied. I ate the doughnuts, but the coffee is there."