The cabin smells like freshly brewed coffee and something sweet - probably the blueberry muffins Loki insisted on making this morning. I lean against the kitchen doorway, watching him move around the small space with that effortless grace that still takes my breath away, even after five years together. He's wearing my old MIT sweatshirt, the one that hangs off his frame in that way I love, and his dark hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck.

"You're staring, Anthony," he says without turning around, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Can't help it," I reply, pushing away from the doorframe. "You look good in my clothes." I wrap my arms around his waist from behind, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. He leans into me, his body warm and solid against mine.

"Hmm, perhaps I should wear them more often," he murmurs, covering my hands with his own. For a moment, there's just the sound of our breathing and the gentle sizzle of something on the stove. This is my favorite part of the day - these quiet moments before the world intrudes.

Then tires crunch on the gravel driveway outside.

Loki tenses in my arms. I press a reassuring kiss to his shoulder before stepping back, already reaching for the watch on the kitchen counter - my nanotech armor ready in an instant if needed. "Stay here," I say quietly.

He catches my wrist before I can move toward the door. His green eyes are dark with concern. "Tony -"

"I'll handle it," I interrupt, but I don't pull away. "Just... wait here. Please."

After a moment, he releases me. I adjust my shirt, square my shoulders, and open the door. The morning sunlight is bright as I step onto the porch, and there they are - Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov standing by an old pickup truck, looking like they own the place.

"Tony," Steve says, his voice tight with what I suspect is forced enthusiasm. "We need to talk."

Behind me, I hear the soft pad of feet on the floorboards. Loki steps out beside me, his expression carefully neutral, but I can feel the tension radiating off him. Steve's eyes narrow when he sees Loki, and Natasha's hand moves subtly toward her hip - where I'm willing to bet she has a gun.

This is not going to be a friendly visit.