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….
"You want a pet international intelligence agency?" Nick couldn't believe his ears.
"You guys really have a high opinion of yourselves. And judging by what J.A.R.V.I.S. just pulled from your comm channels, you're basically an international terrorist ring cosplaying as a secret service. If you were actuallycompetent, you would have busted me out of that cave and you would have taken down Obadiah, instead of waiting for me to do all the heavy lifting! Honestly, if it weren't for my dad's memory, I'd have already flown off to build my own S.H.I.E.L.D., with blackjack and... ah, never mind, we can forget about the second part now," the billionaire sighed theatrically.
"So, do we have a deal on my incredibly generous offer, or should I fly back and get back to tasting wedding cakes?"
"Agreed," Fury replied, his voice dark and heavy.
"Well, excellent... and yes, I sincerely hope it doesn't cross your mind to try and alter the terms of our arrangement. Because I can get very offended... and I might just have to look for a new director for my organization."
Nick was left with nothing to do but grind his teeth. He had been left with no choice; he was going to have to play by Stark's rules. At least for now.
.…
Later that day, I was browsing the internet, cross-referencing my new knowledge of Earth's magical enclaves with mundane maps and transit routes. Not because I was planning to rush in headlong, quite the opposite. Having soberly weighed the circumstances, I decided to postpone making contact.
Naturally, this wasn't out of fear that they'd knock me over the head. Even assuming the sorcerers had a stick big enough to hit me with, they also possessed brains.
Magicians don't just pick fights with the wielder of the King of Asgard's spear for no reason, not unless someone backs them into a corner or tries to wipe them out.
However, Kamar-Taj has stood for a thousand years; it can wait a little longer. But a date with a beautiful mistress of the elements? That wait was unacceptable.
The lady had made it clear that my courtship and the heroic deeds performed in her honor were received quite positively, so it would be foolish to rest on my laurels.
Besides Storm, I had a mountain of other things to do: attend Stark's wedding, bring the X-gene research to a logical conclusion, show Tony who the real God of Engineering was by whipping up my own super-armor laced with adamantium, nanites, and a neutronium reactor... I could also coat Gungnir in adamantium and slap another reactor onto it...
At my last thought, the spear let out a low, disgruntled hum in my mind.
"Yes, yes, you are mighty, majestic, imposing, and awesome, I'm not arguing," I soothed the weapon. "But there is always room for self-improvement. Or do you suddenly want to turn down literal indestructibility and a direct conduit to the Dimension of Living Light?"
"..." The weapon was clearly intrigued. The displeasure vanished without a trace.
"That's what I thought. And anyway, every magic staff needs a badass pommel. Yes, you're a spear, but a 'badass heel' is still a solid aesthetic."
Having successfully convinced my willful weapon of its own magnificence, irresistibility, and the glittering prospects of becoming even more magnificent and irresistible, I set about preparing for the first item on my list: my date with the charming, blonde goddess.
So, what did I need first and foremost? I needed to take my time. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to get into Ororo's pants, but I'm not some hormone-crazed teenager driven solely by that one goal.
Above all else, Storm was fascinating to talk to, and I loved watching her reactions to whatever I said or did. Rushing things and turning up the pressure was the wrong play.
What was required was a tender, calm, and romantic atmosphere...
Yes... A candlelit dinner on the Sky Skiff, hovering over a night sea in a dead calm, so the stars could reflect off the still water... Now thatsounded like a plan!
Not one to procrastinate, I got right to work. Placing an order at the restaurant we had visited last time didn't take long, nor did arranging the delivery.
No matter how pretentious an establishment might be, offering triple the bill is usually enough to convince any restaurateur to beautifully package a meal "to go," provide thermal bags, and hand it all off to a taxi driver.
The second task was the Skiff, but that only required me to unload my loot, add a few touches like a small dining table and a sound system, and apply the general polish required for a romantic evening.
With all these chores, the rest of the daylight hours flew by unnoticed. Around eight in the evening, I "caught" Storm lounging in an armchair with a book. Why the quotation marks? Because recently, the girl had stopped running away from me.
Well then, let the show begin.
"Oh, most radiant mistress of the weather, your humble admirer has come to distract you for a moment. Do you mind?" I greeted the lovely mutant.
"Loki," she tried to simultaneously smile, hide her blush, and let out a heavy sigh. "You don't have to bury me in compliments at every convenient opportunity."
"What are you talking about, Storm?" I feigned absolute, deeply wounded innocence. "What else are convenient opportunities for, if not that? That's exactly what makes them convenient!"
"I misspoke," the girl chuckled. "You don't need to shower me with compliments every single timewe meet."
"I didn't shower you with compliments at 3:00 PM or at 5:40 PM today!" I cried out, demanding justice.
"..." She just shook her head, turning away with a smile.
"Actually, the reason I dropped by," I scratched my eyebrow, dropping the exalted, poetic tone, "is that I have a small favor to ask."
"A favor?" She looked surprised. "Yes, of course, I'm listening."
"I am asking you to save me from melancholy and loneliness by graciously accepting my invitation for another date. Say... tonight at eleven?"
"I..." Oh, the way she innocently hid behind her book, as if trying to use it as a shield against my insufferable nature. "Alright. But where do you want to go?"
"Oh, let that be my little secret. A surprise for you!"
"O-kay," curiosity and interest bled into her voice. "But how should I dress?"
"However you wish. To me, you are breathtaking in any attire!"
"You really don't make my life easy," she sighed with feigned sorrow. "Alright," she stood up from the armchair. "I'm going to get ready."
"But... it's only half past eight?"
"Exactly! I only have two and a half hours! I have to go..." And she really did go. In fact, she practically sprinted out of the room.
"Do you understand any of that?" I turned to Scott, who had been sitting in the common room and witnessing the entire scene.
"Buddy," Cyclops put on the grave expression of a husband aged by years of experience. "Just dropping a date on a girl like that, without giving her at least a full day to prepare? That is incredibly cruel. I bet you anything she's storming into Jean's room right now, and the two of them are going to frantically tear through closets trying to pick out a dress. They might even make a desperate run to the mall."
"Oh..." I actually felt a twinge of guilt. "Well... let's just assume that I am an evil, devious god who was simply fulfilling his monthly quota for villainy."
….
If you want to read ahead by 20+ chapters from here you can visit my Patre-on.
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