"No matter what we breed,
    We still are made of greed..."
   
    (Tenshi's POV)

    I pause, thinking I had imagined it. Then I hear it again. The rapping of knuckles against a wooden surface. And it's my door.

    I move quickly to the door and press the knob. Swinging it gently open, I poke my head out. To my surprise, Sergeant Barnes stands outside, his hands clasped behind his back and his feet shoulder width apart. It is meant to be a relaxed stance, but I am not blind to the tension in his shoulders and back. He doesn't want to be here.

    I decide to go easy on him and slip out of the room, gently closing the door behind me. I have to crane my neck to smile softly up at him. He looks awkwardly down at me, then clears his throat and looks away, taking a step back.

    "It's dinnertime. I thought you might be hungry."

    Liar. The team sent him. I don't have to be Loki to spot a lie. Being a demon is enough, because lying is our job. I let it slide.

    "That's very thoughtful of you. Shall we get going?"

     He nods awkwardly.

    "Yeah. Let's go."

    He begins to walk to the elevator, me trailing a few steps behind him. It's obvious that he's uncomfortable, even with my human form. I maintain my distance, trying not to make it worse. We step into the little box and as the doors slide shut, he presses the button.

    The descent is dead silent. The sergeant stares straight ahead, never once glancing at me. I do the same, standing motionless until the doors roll open again.

    We step from the elevator into the dining room. It's a modernly decorated area with a long table and ten chairs, five on each side. Every one of them is occupied, except for that of Sergeant Barnes. Loki, noting my predicament, waves his hand and an eleventh chair makes an appearance at the foot of the table. I look at him, mouthing the words "thank you" before sitting down.

    The cook comes in bearing an enormous pot of spaghetti, which she dishes out onto the plate in front of each Avenger. Another huge pot is placed on the center of the table, a ladle draped gracefully over the rim. The Avengers take turns drawing out sauce for their pasta. I, however, cannot reach the pot. It's just as well, because I prefer cheese on my spaghetti as opposed to sauce anyway.

    Seeing that everyone is distracted by their food, I give a subtle flick of my hand and the pasta is immediately covered in finely shredded mild cheddar cheese. I tuck in, finding it to be absolutely delicious. I can see a knowing look on Loki's face. He must have sensed the magic. Whoops.

    About midway through the meal, I sense eyes on me. Looking up, I see Mr. Stark gazing at me intently.

    "I need to see you after dinner, Tenshi."

    Uh oh. What could I possibly have done?

    He apparently sees my dismay, for he backtracks quickly.

    "You're not in trouble. I just need to talk to you."

    I breathe a sigh of relief. Turning back to my dinner, I wolf the rest of it down, more intent on filling my stomach than savoring the flavor.

    I stay behind after everyone leaves, helping with the dishes. It isn't long before I am approached by Mr. Stark.

    "Follow me." His face is in the same expression that I normally wear: blank and unreadable. I follow him to the elevator and watch as he pushes the button for the lab. The elevator ascends and within seconds we arrive in the laboratory. He leads me to a table towards the left, covered in various gadgets.

    Among them, I see a pair of cuff-like  bracelets.

    Mr. Stark picks them up and fidgets with them.

    "The team came to me after I showed you your room. Suffice it to say, they don't trust you. I pleaded with them to let you stay and these were their concession. These won't hurt you, just block your major powers. You won't be able to turn insubstantial or enter the astral plane, and you can't escape.

    "They'll only open for my fingerprint. Your other abilities will work just fine. It's just those three. I really am sorry. May I see your wrists please?"

    I can see the regret in his eyes. I hold out my hands, silently allowing him to attach the cuffs. The cuffs contract around my narrow wrists, looking for all the world like black leather bracelets. I know better. I know what they do.

    Mr. Stark looks apologetically at me. 

    "If it's any consolation, Reindeer Games has to have 'em, too. Can't have him teleporting out of here and causing havoc outside the tower."

    I smile at him. "It's okay. These things don't hinder me from normal activities, so I have no problem with wearing them. And I'm truly grateful that you are allowing me to stay here. I can only imagine how angry the others are at you for my presence. I'll show them that you made the right choice."

    He returns my grateful gaze. "Thank you," he murmurs simply. I nod gracefully.

    "You're welcome."