I am surprised. No, surprise is probably an understatement. I am completely and utterly shocked. Loki, if Tony is talking about the Loki I'm thinking of, and I know only one person by that name, has been sitting in a maximum-security cell for about three months now. Very little has ever been said in my presence about the god of mischief and the success of his interrogations, but I had always assumed that everything was going well.

"Well?" Tony's expectant eyes spread the uncomfortable feeling of unease inside me. What am I supposed to accomplish? After all, I'm not even trained to interrogate mass murderers and I certainly don't have the qualifications to do so. If even the Avengers couldn't get much out of him, what good am I supposed to do? "Tony, I've never interrogated anyone. What if he tricks me?"

"Y/n, listen to me. Loki is sitting in a cell. He is surrounded by a barrier that shields his magic. He can neither manipulate your thoughts nor can he physically harm you in any other way. The only thing he can do, and he will try to do, is to manipulate you with words. He will question things and twist facts to confuse you."

As he speaks, I watch his features grow more serious. I notice the dark circles under his eyes and the tired expression that is barely noticeable on his face but still there. "You know what? Think of this whole thing as less of an interrogation. You just go in there and talk to him. Chat about trivial stuff and keep an eye on his mind while you're doing so. Maybe you'll notice something or whatever."

Tony slumps back in his chair and runs his hand through his dark hair. Despair, fatigue, and resignation surround him like waves and make the seriousness of this matter clear to me. "We need something to work with." He adds before reaching for a glass and taking a big gulp of water before standing up, petting my shoulder, and reaching for the door. "And so far, we have nothing. After three months! Think about it, please." With these words, he disappears.

To be honest, I don't need to think about it. I'm tired of the very small missions they take me every few months. There's nothing to do for me, and I feel quite useless. Finally, there is something I can do, a task, something they actually need me for. Nothing to just occupy me. Fresh energy rushes through my veins, and I almost jump from that chair to run after the billionaire.

"Tony!" I yell, and he stops in his tracks, turning around to meet me with a smug grin on his face. Cocky idiot. He knows I can't refuse something like this. "I'm doing it. When do I start?" He reaches into a pocket of his pants and hands me a small device. After taking a look at the display, I punch his arm. "Tony, you... you...!" I punch him again, and he backs away, raising his hands in an attempt to calm me.

"You planned all this! Did I even have a choice??" The next punch is a little harder, and his suit suddenly builds up around him. "Get out of that tin can! It's unfair." I huff and take a step back. "It's not a tin can!" He sounds so offended that I can't help myself and start to chuckle. "And you surely had a choice. I just knew you would agree, so I wasted no time."

The amusement radiating off him is contagious, and I feel my face contort into a grin before I can do anything against it. His eyes sparkling with joy as he realizes he has won is just adorable. The little wrinkles that build around his eyes while he's slightly chuckling about the situation and my bewilderment brighten my mood. I take another look at the small display.

It has some files open, and I quickly scroll through them, finding rules, permissions, instructions, and most importantly, a small file about the one and only Loki Laufeyson. "Twenty minutes." Puzzled I look up to meet Tony's gaze again. The wrinkles around his eyes are gone, replaced with something more serious. "What?"Your first session starts in 20 minutes."

I inhale sharply, creating a whistling sound as the air gets sucked between my teeth. That was... unexpected. "Get ready and read the document about Loki and the instructions. The rules were being put in there by Fury. I don't know why he did that. He should know that I have some issues following rules. They're so... fun-blocking." I raise my eyebrows at him, and he smirks, ushering me away.

For the next few minutes, I'm an absolute mess. I pace around my quarter and try to absorb as much information as I can. But it's wicked. I read and read, but I can't concentrate on the words. Seconds after reading the information, it has already slipped out of my head again, leaving me slowly losing my mind.

When I finally have to go, the only words that are memorized in my mind are from the file about Loki. There is very little information, but it was still better than meeting him completely unprepared. Mass murderer, a threat to the population, potentially dangerous and unpredictable. Sounds promising.

The elevator moves soundlessly after I hold my device against a scanner. Lost in thoughts, I only notice that the elevator has come to hold when the doors slide to the sides, revealing a white room. Everything is white. The walls, the floor, the ceiling. Even the chair placed in front of the glass wall that will separate me from Loki is plain white.

Glancing around, I step over to the chair, uncertain what to do. No one is here, and the lack of colour makes me slightly uncomfortable. It looks so dreary, unpersonal, and just... empty. How could one live in something like this? "Y/n." I spin around and wave at Tony, who just walks straight to the glass wall and knocks impatiently. "Rudolph!"

I just stare. Puzzlement over that nickname clearly written all over my face, I watch as a figure emerges from a door frame that obviously leads into another room of the cell. "Get lost, mortal." His voice is bored, but that's not what I notice first. His voice is dark, low, and vibrates through every cell of my body.

Then his eyes shift to me, and a smirk plasters itself onto his face. "Look what we have here." His eyes travel down my body, making me shift under his piercing gaze. "A new toy. How delightful." His ice-blue eyes make the room temperature noticeably drop, and a shiver runs down my spine. "Well then." Tony rolls his eyes and clears his throat. "I'll leave the two of you to it."

I freeze in shock when the door closes behind Tony, and I'm stuck here alone. Why did he leave? I don't even know what to do. He could at least introduce us to one another. I don't notice the sudden silence, nor do I notice Loki eyeing me up and down.

The faint vibration of the device Tony handed me earlier drags me out of my thoughts, and I quickly take it from my pocket. A message opens, and reading the two lines from Tony, I roll my eyes. He simply could have told me that he had a meeting with Fury when he was in here just a few seconds ago.

I straighten before walking over to the chair and sitting down, looking around awkwardly before finally shifting my gaze to Loki, who is watching me with his cold eyes, seemingly bored. Slightly intimidated by his height - he is at least a head taller than me - I unconsciously start fiddling with my fingers. That's when I sense it. Curiosity.

I finally find enough courage to look at him. He really is tall. His hands are clasped behind his back, and his head is slightly tilted to one side. The smirk from earlier returns as he watches my unease. "Uh, hello." I finally say, silently congratulating myself. Very professional, y/n. "It speaks!" He chuckles in amusement.

"It does." I reply, more confident this time, ignoring the fact that he just entitled me as 'it'. I guess he did this to provoke me, but I'm not Tony. My ego isn't that easy to hurt. "Tell me your name." He demands. "No." In response, a smirk settles on his face. "Stark sent me a rebellious one! I like that. Feels like Christmas." Something dark appears in his eyes for a second. "Tell me, little one, why won't you tell me?"

I stand up, no longer wanting to sit on that uncomfortable chair and stroll over to him. "Because," My finger taps against the glass at the level of his chest, which is about the same height as my nose. "You didn't ask nicely." Frowning, he narrows his eyes at me. "So you want me to beg?" "As long as you do it nicely..." "Oh, a feisty one! I think I like you." A smirk spreads on his face.

A low chuckle erupts from his throat, startling me slightly. He takes a step back and starts pacing around in the room that seems to be a living room. A small sofa is placed there along with a bookshelf and a small wooden table. "What is your purpose down here?" He finally asks. "Stark surely didn't send you down here to just talk."

"That's exactly what he did." Distrust and something else I can't place reaches my mind. "So another interrogation." "I wouldn't call it that, but... yeah, something like that." His eyes narrow at me, and now I sense anger. "Don't waste time you don't have," he warns. "I have plenty of time and believe me when I tell you that this.." I wave my arms around. "This was not part of my plans."

I expect his anger to increase, annoyance, or lack of interest, but I sense nothing of that sort of feeling. I'm surprised and definitely not prepared for what hits me. It's the stinging sensation of bitterness. Sadness that tugs at my heart and makes my mind slow down. But the worst is the loneliness.

It makes my heart ache despite it's not my own emotion. It's so strong that it threatens to take over my mind, and I can't hold a small groan that slips through my lips, causing the raven-haired god to look up. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. His face shows everything I need to know. The way his eyes narrow as he tilts his head to the side while pressing his lips together makes my stomach twist in unease.

Suspicion radiates off him while he studies my expression. He obviously doesn't know where to mentally place me, and he doesn't hide his distrust or his curiosity but shamelessly stares at me, clearly trying to figure out what I'm up to. I adjust in the chair, which is more comfortable than I originally thought.

The silence is excruciating. Heavy and uncomfortable. Despite him being the one in the cell, I feel vulnerable under his piercing gaze. When he suddenly moves, I'm startled but glad that at least something happens. "What do you wish to talk about, mortal?" He takes a step closer, the tip of his tongue tracing his lips in anticipation.

"You." His smirk returns.