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Tony loved art, on an entirely normal level a la “This is pretty, hey, you look like her, do you want a drink?”. That was the level at which he admired art and why he went to museums. As an FBI agent, he had other things to do than to love art for more than that.
Pepper loved them, she occasionally kept pulling him to galas because “Tony, this is culture!” and all that. But she wasn’t a fanatic about art, although she could tell the difference between a Monet and a Picasso by looking at the brush strokes and could tell you something about the eras they had made and influenced, and knew all about the cool 400-years-old-paintings too. Pepper was just clever.
But someone who really loved art? That was Loki, also known as Silvertongue.
Silvertongue because he kept sneaking into places he shouldn’t be in, and guards and guests were all charmed alike by him – if they even noticed him, sneaky as the snake was.
The man gave Tony not only one headache but rather, multiply ones, and they always came back when he heard about an art exhibition. Because, goodness, that was an invitation for art theft Silvertongue, Tony’s personal nemesis number one.
For years now had the thief escaped him, left Tony here and there boiling over an argument or knocked him out ice-cold, fooled and played him like he was an inexperienced child rather than the skilled agent that he was. Tony was a master at his trade, needed to be, as the leader of his team because otherwise he’d be long since buried six feet under the ground.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” Rhodey muttered. “Tony, we don’t know yet if he’ll be there.”
Tony threw a look at his friend, his second-in-command, James Rhodey, alias War Machine. “It’s a jewel who’s worth more than your mum’s apple pie. Do you really think Loki will pass up this opportunity?”
Rhodey sighed. “Everything tells me you’re merely obsessed with the guy but you’re also right. Loki wouldn’t pass up this opportunity.”
“Thank you,” Tony replied and tugged his tie into place. It had gotten loose. Not that anyone was looking if his tie sat correctly but the Stark in Tony wanted his tie to be done properly. It could be undone later when the job was done, and Loki handcuffed in the van which was waiting outside. He hoped that Wilson was ready to hit the gas pedal the second they had the criminal in there. “Although I object to you calling me obsessed with Silvertongue.”
“Sure, dude.” Rhodey’s look was almost comical.
They went separate ways shortly after. Rhodey scoured the west side of the exhibition hall, Tony stayed near the jewel. It was some ugly white diamond, more expensive than his toilet paper ever would be, and it was presented in a glass casket. What vexed Tony was that it had no lid – according to the director, the glass would tamper the appearance of the diamond.
Tony had done what he could to convince the director to change his mind, to let some tampering to the diamond happen – even asked Romanoff to go in there and work her charms, but to no avail. What kind of man was this, if flirting with one of the most gorgeous women in the world succumbed to showing off the natural beauty of some diamond? Tony wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to that.
He stole an hour oeuvre when nobody was looking. Baguette with salmon and some greens sprinkled atop. It tasted delicious and Tony took another one. Usually, he didn’t eat on missions, especially not when Silvertongue was involved but fucking hell, he’d been up since 1am after he’d gone to bed at midnight. As of the moment, he was walking around on six mugs of coffee, a leftover pizza from yesterday, and now two hour oeuvres.
After two hours, there still was no sighting of Silvertongue. The Hour oeuvres were already gone, Tony had stolen a third piece but that had been it. His stomach was grumbling, Rhodey was muttering quietly into his ear.
Clint was watching the cameras, checking every person who entered the exhibition twice. Tony still had the fear that Silvertongue had found a way around them – it wasn’t that he doubted his team’s skill but he didn’t dare to underestimate the other either.
A fire alarm went off all sudden.
Tony rolled his eyes at that obvious manoeuvre. That was Silvertongue’s doing, no doubt.
“That’s him.” Rhodey laughed into the mic. “The fire alarm? What are we, twelve?”
“Oh, it’s not stupid,” Tony muttered into his mic. “People need to leave the room now, no matter if it’s a faked alarm or not.”
“The fireguard will be here in fourteen minutes,” Romanoff informed them. “What’s the plan now?”
“War Machine with the people,” Tony muttered hastily. “Stay near the doors if you can. Widow, you are—?”
“Still with the clean-up, heading towards the control panels. Do you want me to turn the alarm off?”
“No, leave it,” Tony said. His mind was racing. He had most of his people outside, he needed to stay in the room. A short look around the room told him all that was necessary, and he dove beneath the dining table. Not so long ago, he’d taken his snack from this exact table and admired the long cloth, casually checked if someone was hiding beneath the cloth by letting something drop to the ground.
There still wasn’t anyone hiding there, and he heard the last few people leave the room hurriedly, not wanting to be eaten by flames.
“Hawkeye, you’ve got the cameras? I’m going to turn my mic silent, I’m still in the room.”
“Iron Man lost his snack under the table,” Clint said flatly. “In case we’re one boss short later.”
Tony turned his mic off. Now, he had to wait for Silvertongue to come out and grab the diamond, so Tony could grab them both in return. Easy as that. The room was silent, he couldn’t hear anything except for his soft huffs of breath, his regular heartbeat and the fire alarm. A hand was on the grip of his gun, ready to draw it within a moment’s notice. Not, that he thought Silvertongue would want to be shot – he was too vain for that – but it always made an impression to swing a gun around. Or something like that.
Then, something squeaked, shifted around. A louder noise as if something was being put on the ground, soft footsteps on the wooden floor.
Silvertongue.
Tony moved into a crouched position, ready to bolt out beneath the table any second. Give Silvertongue a few moments more to get the diamond in his hands so he couldn’t claim later in court that he’d gotten lost on the way out from the fire alarm – Tony wouldn’t put it past the bastard. He was cunning enough to pull that manoeuvre off and convince the court of it as well.
Someone shifted on the floor.
It was all the signal Tony needed. He shot out from beneath the table. Pulled the gun out as he was on the move, pointed it at the art thief in front of him.
“Freeze!” He bellowed.
Silvertongue stood with the back to him, clad entirely in a thin, black material that made Tony think of a gymnast’s outfit.
“Turn around – slowly!” Tony added, the gun trained at the back of Silvertongue’s head. “I’m not hesitant to shoot.”
“Oh, please don’t,” Silvertongue replied with an amused drawl, “I would hate to see blood on my suit.” But he turned around nonetheless, the move smooth and elegant as he was prone to do. He held the diamond in his hands, let it drop into his dark bumbag as if he had no care that Tony had seen him doing it.
“FBI,” he said, highly entertained as he imagined Silvertongue’s face pale—
But it didn’t. Instead, Silvertongue started to smile at him as if pleased to make his acquaintance.
“Tony Stark, am I correct?”
He frowned, thrown off the game. “Yes. You’re arrested for theft, Loki.”
The thief hummed in response. “I don’t think so, Tony. It’s so nice to finally put a face to the name of the man who’s been on my heels for months now.”
“Did you get scared?” Tony grinned. “We almost had you before. Italy, May this year.”
“Ah, the Brueghel?” Loki tsk’ed. “I can’t say your presence there made any difference.”
“We had your boat under surveillance and your captain was—“
“Bribed, I know.” Loki laughed. “I stayed in a hotel near the church for three days more, and drove up to Germany then. Enjoyed a stroll through Munich, admired Satan’s footstep imprint in a church there. Sadly, it’s not worth a lot on the market otherwise I’d have taken it.”
Tony was irritated. “Give me your bumbag.”
“No.” Loki arched a brow. “I need to earn my money too to feed my cat, Tony.”
“You have a cat.”
“Three, in fact.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I wouldn’t dare. Not, if I’m confronted by such a professional FBI Agent whose whole mission it is to tackle me.”
Tony’s finger touched the trigger, rolled his eyes. “Stop talking and give up. Otherwise, you’re not going to leave this building alive.”
“Hm.” Loki tilted his head. “I thought you would be more entertaining. You’re disappointing me.”
“Because I’m here to impress you,” Tony replied flatly.
Loki gave a shrug. Elegantly, of course. “You’re chasing after me, gave me a diamond. You ensured that your entire team would be gone so that it is only you and me left. Of course you want to impress me.”
And he said it with such confidence, that Tony started to doubt his own sanity there.
“You’re twisting the situation around,” he replied. “I’m chasing after you because you’re a wanted criminal, not because I’m— I’m trying to impress you or anything like that.”
“No?” Loki almost pouted. Then, he sighed and looked towards the ceiling as if he was praying for something. Probably a way to escape. “The cameras are off,” he said all sudden.
Tony looked towards the camera to check – the red dot wasn’t there anymore. On none of the two cameras. “What did you do—?” When he looked back to Loki, the art thief was considerably closer to him than he’d been before.
“Turned the cameras off by accessing your van’s controls. A piece of well-meant advice here: make sure your tech is up to better standards or have your men be more vigilant. That was embarrassingly easy to knock him out.”
“What—”
“He’s fine. Enjoying a nap.” Loki tapped on the gun. “Would you mind lowering this so we can have a conversation like two civil people?”
“You’re a thief, I hardly think there’s something as far from civil as that.”
“I’m paying taxes.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No.” Loki chuckled. “Now, down with that atrocity and we can talk about what we’ll do because of this pretty diamond I have in my bag.”
“That one is going to stay here, you’re coming back with me though.”
“To your place?” Loki’s voice turned into a soft timbre. “I would be open to trying the handcuffs out then. But only if you promise to let me have the key.”
“Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose though?” Tony swallowed, unwanted images of Loki rising in his mind: Loki, naked on his bed, ready to be devoured and his hair tousled. All that glorious skin that was hiding beneath this bodysuit which left almost nothing to the imagination, for him. It would be like a belated Christmas gift.
He squinted at Loki. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“Is it working?” The Bastard replied with a grin. Then, he applied pressure on the gun, lowered it until it pointed to the floor. Tony let it happen, perplexed, curious as well where this would lead—
They looked at each other, Tony completely ignored that this was the moment where he should force Loki to surrender to him; to give up on his dreams of escaping. But, he didn’t. Idiot that he was.
“Why must all the pretty men be on the good side of the law,” Loki eventually sighed. There was a notch of sadness in his voice. “I would love nothing more than to ask you out for a date, Tony Stark, and get to know you better. Your persistence is admirable and your genius not unremarkable.”
“Why you’re saying that?” Tony almost whispered, feeling a blush work his way up into his cheeks.
“Because I would love to kiss you,” Loki replied. And he inched closer to Tony’s face, one wonderfully big hand still wrapped around Tony’s, keeping the gun down.
Oh, this wasn’t good.
“But I have to get this diamond to my client, and you are sadly not as tempting as my payment, even when you bat your pretty eyes at me,” Loki added.
His words were like a splash of cold water on Tony. He tried to reel back, getting the situation under control but Loki was– surprisingly strong.
“My apologies for doing this to your handsome face.”
“No, no, this is not—”
“Our paths will cross again, I’m sure of that,” was the last thing Loki said before he quickly wrapped his hands around Tony’s neck, applied pressure against it—
Tony’s world turned black.
When he woke up again, no more than two minutes could have passed.
“Oh, fuck you,” Tony spit out and got up from the ground. Loki was gone, nothing indicated he’d been here at all.
When he was stomping out of the room, he noticed that there was a note crumbled in his hands. Someone – wonder who, Tony thought dryly, had a pretty handwriting although it looked like it had been written hastily.
After long consideration, I came to the decision that the most valuable piece of art I saw in the exhibition wasn’t the diamond, Anthony.
“And yet, you still knocked me out,” Tony muttered. He ignored the warm feeling in his chest. He was only a man, flattery was never not welcome—
“He’s the enemy, he’s the enemy,” he told himself, angry at himself for feeling flattered because of Loki. He walked out of the museum, to the van. And still, he wasn’t going to deny that he was looking forward to seeing Loki again.
To put him in jail, of course.
For no other reason.
AshAndSnow Thu 24 Dec 2020 12:11PM UTC
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