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"Shit," Tony Stark muttered. He stopped pacing to glare across the long room, past dozens of rows of ficus plants, at the thread of smoke rising from one of them. It was clearly visible against the white walls.

"Jarvis, is that supposed to happen?" Tony asked.

"The plant involved is one of the controls," Jarvis said. "Nothing to worry about, sir."

"Hmmph," Tony said, and resumed pacing and glaring at random ficus plants. A ficus had been good enough for the late Maya Hansen may she rest in peace, back when she'd still been a promising scientist and not a moral quandary, but what Tony was finding was that biology was not nearly as satisfying as engineering. Plants took time to grow. Obvious inferior design, right?

If it had been Tony with the Extremis problem, this whole thing would be a lot further along, because he'd already thought of about twenty short cuts to this whole process...but it wasn't him. It was Pepper.

"If I may make a suggestion..." Jarvis said.

Tony stopped pacing again. "Jarvis, I warn you, this had better be--"

"Duck!" Jarvis said.

Tony was ducking even before he consciously registered the lack of the usual sir, a sure sign of urgency. The fire extinguishing foam from one of his stupider robots passed over his head and hit the plant right next to him just before it burst into flame.

"Good job, but next time--" Tony started to say.

But the damn plant burst into flame anyway, and the foam went everywhere, and the overhead sprinklers made an ominous noise.

"No, wait for it," Tony muttered. The plant next to the flaming plant was still stable, and as long as...

"Oops," Tony said as another plant -- on the far side of the room, no less! -- started smoking. "That shouldn't have happened. Jarvis--"

"Activating sprinklers," Jarvis said.

"Shit," Tony said as a whole row of plants along the far wall burst into flame too. "Shit shit..." Blinking against smoke and hunching against the spray, he ran to the nearest door and wrenched it open. "Shit," he said to the quiet of the hallway, and then pulled out his tablet.

"Better fireproof partitions," Tony muttered, scribbling down notes as fast as he could think. Water dripped onto his tablet, but that was okay, it was waterproof. "And more testing, lots more testing with heat, and...chemical stimuli, and...magnetic fields, how about a focused electromagnetic field?" He felt a weird sort of relief at having something to do, even if it was something he should have thought of before the big fire took out at least half of his work. "And Jarvis, don't tell Pepper about this, okay?"

There was no response. "Jarvis?" He looked around, and realized that he didn't recognize the hallway where he was standing.

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Loki could feel his future hovering over his head, and he didn't like it. He didn't truly believe that his destiny was an animated thing, waiting for him; rather it was more his own restlessness, the awareness that he had paused his life somehow and he needed to start it again. He was meant to do things both terrible and great, it seemed, and the Nexus was becoming more and more like a hiding place than a rest. It was losing its ability to distract him, and for that he knew he would soon need to move on. Not leave it behind forever, of course, but simply to pay the rest of the universe the same attention he was paying the hotel.

This was becoming more and more plain each time he ran into someone from his supposed future, not that he realized it in all cases (some, he had learned, kept it somewhat under wraps, as Natasha had). When he came across a man soaking wet in one of the hotel hallways, Loki didn't recognize him. He just noticed the fact that, well, he was wet, and smelling of smoke. And talking to himself. "I hope you didn't set something important on fire," he remarked, somewhat warily. After all, the man's posture didn't really radiate desperation, as a victim of a raging blaze would, so he was assuming this was more or less something small. And possibly involving arson.

"Yeah, yeah, my building, my--" Tony turned to see who was talking and froze for a split second. "Crap," he said. "Mayday, mayday," he added conversationally, though he'd feel better about invoking that particular security routine if he knew Jarvis was still operational. If he knew what the hell was going on.

"Aren't you supposed to be locked up somewhere?" he said to Loki, which was his idea of a distraction while he looked around for a line of retreat. He really needed a suit if he was going to have to deal with demi-gods. Too bad he'd blown up so many of them recently, but he still had a few surprises up his sleeves -- and stored on his tablet.

"Deep and dark and most importantly permanent were the operative words. So what gives? Don't tell me they're letting the violent offenders out early on parole now." As he spoke, Tony's fingers slid around on the tablet, working mostly without looking, invoking stored procedures for connecting to anything that was available and hacking it. He really needed to find Jarvis, or some way to access security, or...anything, really.

"Ah, so we've met," Loki replied, with the nonchalance of someone who has had accusations and questions thrown at him often enough to find them particularly charmless but not truly offensive. He looked at the sopping wet man before him, wondered what in the Nine Realms could have possibly occurred between them, and figured he would find out soon enough. "Or rather, we do meet eventually." Whether their meeting would be something that Loki would even care to remember had yet to be determined.

He raised his shoulders in an effortless shrug. "I'm sure I'm supposed to be a lot of things," he said. "Sorely lacking at the moment, however. Who are you? I'm assuming it's the usual list of explosions and mayhem that pepper our no doubt colourful past. That aside, though, I'm still wondering why you're smoking. If you've set fire to the Vegas door, you're about to have a lot of enemies."

"Yes we've met," Tony said impatiently. He sneaked a look at his tablet. Nexus Hotel. And still no Jarvis anywhere... "I don't know what kind of amnesiac game you're playing--" And wouldn't believe him if he did try to explain, just on general principles. "But I'll tell you the same thing I told you last time. Those clothes? Shakespeare's wincing in genuine pain in his grave." Beat. "Oh, and leave Earth alone or the Avengers will get you. Again."

Tony thought he could probably cause an explosion with the surprise up his sleeve (yeah, literally...but it wasn't a suit so Pepper would understand...probably) and get away if he had to, assuming there was anywhere to get away to, but since Loki didn't really seem to be pining for a fight, he might as well keep trying to bluff it out until he could figure out his own little amnesia problem, namely the complete blank on how he might have ended up in a hotel he'd never heard of.

"So tell me, does this convenient amnesia extend to skipping the usual mayhem and just telling me where I can get a drink around here?" Or in other words, retreat, regroup, and come back with more firepower, or at least some idea of what was going on. Hey, it was worth a try.

Ah, so they had met, directly, and not just a random passing by, or even word of mouth. Well, hopefully they hadn't met for very long, because Loki already found him rather tiresome. Maybe thus far he had been spoiled by the other future enemies he had met in the hotel. They were all a good deal less hyperactive. Except for his brother, but Thor was always disappointing.

"Sounds terrifying," he said. "It's not amnesia, it's an interdimensional intersection with a possible hiccup in time. But I do suppose it can be convenient every now and again. I do get to meet lovely individuals such as yourself."

He tipped his head to the side, and laughed. "I know every place to get a drink, here," he said. "But I don't make it a habit of answering questions when you seem quite unwilling to lay to rest my own curiosities. I suppose it doesn't matter. You don't seem quite that interesting enough."

"Interdimensional intersection," Tony repeated, his mind moving quickly. "Is hiccup a technical term?" But that was just something to say while backing away slowly from the madman, or possibly madman to be, if what he said about timelines was actually true.

"Sorry, pal, you don't make the list of people I'm willing to talk with about what I'm working on," Tony added. "But thanks for asking, I really mean that." There was a cross-corridor in just another step...

But Tony was thinking about the last time he'd crossed paths with Loki, at the top of Stark Tower. His tower housing Loki's gateway, taking the brunt of it in the battle, but at least it'd made Loki predictable. So if this was a time hiccup involving Loki who hadn't been to New York yet, Tony would rather reinforce that future than try to avoid it. After all, he'd won.

"And for your other question, the name to remember is Stark. Don't worry, you won't be able to miss my name when you get there. Try not to be too envious."

Okay, instant rationalizations aside, he really just wanted to say that.

"Yes; I always make it a point to be impressed by anyone who backs away slowly," Loki replied, amused. This was, by far, the most dramatic reaction he had gotten from anyone (except for maybe Jane Foster trying to land a blow; then again, she hadn't seemed quite so high strung as this Stark man before him. She'd just been angry).

"I was simply ascertaining whether you've made any structural damage to this building," he said. "Not your personal work. This place is an amalgamation of pathways, and I'd hate to think what tinkering with the physical structure would do to it - especially when said damage is accomplished by short, fire-retardant imbeciles like yourself." He tipped his head to the side, and smiled brilliantly. "Well, there was bound to be someone from my future I didn't like. I'm sure you don't care what I think, though, so no harm done, yes?"

Tony laughed. He didn't think there was any other possible response to the concept of Loki plus concern for structural damage. "You're wrong, you know. I care a lot what you think. If you liked me, I'd have to pause to reevaluate the order of the universe, and I wasn't planning on doing that until -- well, never. Sounds like a pain."

He was getting more and more intrigued about what was going on with everything Loki said, but the threat -- here's an enemy and you aren't prepared -- was still uppermost on his mind. "Get ready to be even more impressed," Tony said. "Because for my next trick, I'm going to turn my back on you and walk away. Neat, huh?" It was harder than it sounded, because Tony's memories of New York still haunted him, but Tony was pretty much done with this conversation.

Well, this is certainly far from what she's been expecting, though given the man in front of her, reputation dictates that she should put all expectations aside because if it really is him, then the soaking wet, seeming smoke (smoke? Really?) and the look on his face says expectation should go out the window. Simmons sets her own issues aside in the face of potentially meeting Tony Stark and sets down her tablet (where she's been looking at Fitz's medical results yet again) so she can tentatively approach.

"I don't think the infrastructure of the hotel has been properly set up for the AI you're looking for," Simmons says, not that she's checked in depth, but the first few cursory glances she and Fitz had taken seem to say as much.

"Jarvis goes where I go," Tony said, waving his tablet to show how. At least, that was how it usually worked. The tablet wasn't big enough to hold an actual copy of Jarvis -- yet -- so it did require some sort of connection, which he obviously wasn't getting here.

Another droplet of water dripped past his eye. "Hey, can you get me a towel?" he said, turning his attention fully to Simmons, since the hallway itself didn't seem to hold any clues as to why it wasn't the hallway that was supposed to be outside the Extremis lab. But what she said wasn't any easier to explain.

"Wait, hotel? There aren't any hotels in Stark Tower, I'm allergic to tourists." He gave Simmons a long stare, like he was trying to see through her. "This isn't some kind of weird smoke-induced hallucination, is it? Because if it is, then where are the giant dancing shrimp?"

Well, she certainly thought she might have to kidnap that tablet in the kindest way possible, but the prospect of an AI that carried around was...well, to be expected with the reputation Mr. Stark had built up, but it still thrills Simmons to imagine. She thinks Fitz would have liked it too, if Fitz weren't...

"Do most of your smoke-induced hallucinations contain giant dancing shrimp?" she queries. "I think that might say something about your baseline psychological state," she says, blinking as she learns something new today she hadn't expected. "You're not hallucinating. And you're not at Stark Tower anymore, sir," she adds.

"No, but I was holding back on the request for naked dancing girls out of politeness. I do that sometimes," Tony said. "Politeness."

He gave Simmons a grin, half humoring her, half way to believing that something really strange was going on -- which was only a little bit terrifying, considering how strange usually ended in fire and explosions lately. But he wasn't going to panic yet. "Come again? Would you like to start from the beginning? Where, why, and how would be my preference, but you could throw in a little who and what if you insist."

She catalogues the questions like she'd been taught at Sci-Ops, thoughtful and careful. "The where," she starts. "Where is the Nexus Hotel," she begins to recite, like she's giving a presentation to Agent Coulson or some of his superiors. "Which is, quite frankly, in the middle of nowhere. Literally. If you look outside, the horizon is the nearest galaxy, which is none I've ever seen. Why? Your guess is as good as mine. How involves a spike of energy around specific doors that seem to act as portals between worlds, though I can't detect whether there's wormholes involves."

She gestures to herself. "I'm Jemma Simmons," she says. "...I don't have a what section," she finishes, a bit crestfallen.

"What are you doing here?" Tony suggested. What did the friendly natives do in such a weird and fascinating place?

The organized way she replied had brushed away most of his doubts, leaving him with a vague dread that was rapidly eclipsed by rising curiosity. If what she said was true...

He slid his tablet back into the pocket it had come from. "More to the point, what am I doing here? And I don't mean that existentially, or even spike of energy-wise, though you've gotta know that I'm going to be taking a look at that sometime soon. I mean what am I doing here in this dull hallway... when there's... a galaxy outside?"

But he didn't end that with the same enthusiasm he'd started, because it wasn't quite as easy as that. Vague dread coalesced into a burning need to know. "But first, I've got one more addition to question time. This isn't a one way wormhole or whatever, is it? Because I've got important stuff to get back to."

"With everything that's happened to SHIELD, lately, I thought it might be safer to come here while Fitz heals," she replies, not seeing the point in lying to a man who has the resources at his fingertips to find out everything. Plus, Maria Hill does work for Stark Industries, so she imagines word will be getting around. "I don't exactly know why you're here," she offers. "Luckily, it's not a one way wormhole. If you want, you can head back at any time. Sometimes, though, it's better being here. Better resources," she says.

Less worry about traitors in their midst.

"That's good to know," Tony said, ignoring everything else Simmons had said for now. He sidled back toward the door that he'd come from and pulled it open like he was expecting to surprise something on the other side. One soaking wet lab, empty except for robots. Check.

"Jarvis," he called through.

"Sir?" Check.

"Just checking." He let the door shut again. "Okay, that's weird," he said, staring at the door. But after a moment more, he turned back to Simmons.

"Not that I didn't trust you to know what you're talking about," he said. "Nothing personal, I just...want to be able to get home. Promises to keep."

He shrugged, and then added, proving he hadn't missed anything that she'd said, "So, better resources than SHIELD?"

"I think once you've been here for a while, your definition of weird starts to slide a bit on the scale," she admits, given that she's had her fair share of odd experiences, what with suddenly becoming an eight year old version of herself in school again. "SHIELD in its current state, yes," she agrees. "I've been staying here while I try and seek out something that will help with the swelling of the brain and whether I can counteract the acute effects of being trapped ninety feet under the ocean, drowning," she says, a troubled look on her face.

"I'm sorry, I never introduced myself," she says. She's been so tired lately that she forgets everything. "I'm Jemma Simmons, with Agent Coulson's team."

"Hmm, sounds like a tricky one," Tony admitted. "Have you thought of checking out hospitals rather than hotels listed under weirdest?" Not that he had anything against unorthodox methods...

He looked at Simmons curiously. "You know, I would have bet a dozen defense contracts that you SHIELD types would have some kind of regulation about sticking with SHIELD to take care of your every need. Is this standard procedure, or are you the SHIELD maverick I've always known must exist behind one of those bland facades?"

"I didn't know there was more than one Coulson with SHIELD," Tony added, frowning.

"I'm trying to explore some of the technological advances that might not have hit our world yet," she says. "Lady Sif has been very kind to offer aid before, I was hoping I might find her again and see if she has an Asgardian set of medical tools I could borrow," she rambles, hopeful and eager all at once, and it's in the middle of her fast-paced rambling that she remembers her mistake.

Fingers to her temples, she wishes that she weren't half as exhausted, so maybe she wouldn't have slipped and said his name. "There's...a twin?" she lies, completely horribly. Do not shoot Tony Stark in the head, she insists. Do not shoot him, because Sitwell may have been Hydra, but Tony is very much not and that would go very badly. "Of sorts. It's a very popular name?"

"Oh, yeah, what I've seen of Asgardian technology, if that's what you want to call it, is pretty stunning," Tony said. "The only problem with it is that it doesn't have any screws, so I've never been able to figure out how to take it apart." A connection occurred to him. "Hey, do you know Thor?"

He frowned harder at Simmons' transparent lie and her obvious distress. "Is not," he said evenly. "You might as well tell me, because now I'm going to find out," he added.

"I've met Thor in passing, yes, but I was more interested to meet Dr. Foster, whom I've yet to see," Simmons says, though now that Fitz is in the condition he is, she's not entirely sure the meeting would be as productive as she wants it to be. Once Mr. Stark calls her on her lie, she presses her lips together, slightly glum. "All right, but if he finds out, can you please mention that things have been very stressful and it's hardly my fault I broke, and besides that, I'm not even sure there are classification levels anymore," she says.

"Agent Coulson is alive and has been since days after the Battle of New York."

"If he finds out..." It took a lot to put Tony Stark at a loss for words, and it didn't last long. "If he finds out, he'll have a lot more on his mind, and I'll be putting it there. Of all the stunts--"

And then his brain caught up with his mouth, and he paused for a moment before adding, "You do realize that was a very strange way to phrase that, don't you? And also, what's up with SHIELD? I was guessing internal politics, but the sacred classification levels? That's getting serious."

"He was dead," Simmons clarifies, feeling like she needs to say that much. She still doesn't know the details of how he'd managed to come back to life after days or what the serum was, but she knows this much. "He was. I don't know what they did, only that they did something." And even now, even not knowing what the serum does, she wants it for Fitz because she wants to be able to help him.

"You don't know." Simmons gapes at him. "I don't know that I should be the one to break this to you. I'm hardly equipped in counselling of this magnitude and I don't have enough information to fully explain it."

"And what can you trust if you can't trust death?" Tony asked rhetorically. "I'm just hurt that no one sent me a memo, you know, thanks for saving New York and by the way, no need to mourn for at least one of the fallen you thought you were avenging because hey, he's one of the ex-deceased." He paused. "Pepper will be glad," he added. Another pause. "He's not a zombie, is he?"

He looked at Simmons searchingly. "You don't look like the sort of person who'd happily work for a zombie..." Although she did look strung out. Tired, on a quest for something that might not exist, obviously worried about her half-drowned friend -- or maybe totally drowned friend, if death had lost its sting.

"What don't I know?" he asked testily. It'd be hard to top the whole undead Coulson thing, but he wouldn't put it past her. "I don't need counselling...but I'm starting to think you do," he added. She sounded completely overwhelmed by the thought of whatever this other thing was.

Which meant he ought to try to be nice. "Don't let it overwhelm you," he suggested, more tentative than usual.

"If he is a zombie, he's very colourful and his last medical tests resulted in quite the strong heartbeat," Simmons replies, so she doesn't think that he's a zombie, but maybe there's a new strain in which zombies are secretly blending in with normal people with their 98.6 degree body heat and their steadily beating hearts.

She takes in a deep breath and decides that yes, she should tell him, if only so she isn't the one to keep Tony Stark in the dark. "It turns out that since World War Two, SHIELD hasn't exactly been what we thought it was. It's been two things. The SHIELD founded on the principles of justice and protection and something else, something deeper and more insidious."

"Hydra," she says, darkly.

"Hydra," Tony repeated. "Now that's a name out of the trash heap of history." He was quiet for a long moment, thinking about his father. Howard Stark had Hydra stories from World War II...Steve Rogers probably did too, but Tony had never asked.

"So, Coulson's not a zombie but he's also not tamely pushing up daisies and buttercups, SHIELD is possessed by the spirit of evil Christmas past, and can I just say that I understand the urge for secrecy but this is getting ridiculous?" He pinned Simmons with a glare. (Unfairly, she was just the messenger.) "Anything else?"

"That's what we thought, as well, but it turns out they're just surprisingly good at hiding," Simmons says, her smile strained. She's exhausted and she wants to get back to Fitz to check on him, but she doesn't think leaving just yet is the best idea. She shrinks, slightly, at the glare, trying not to completely shrivel up. "Um," she manages. "I don't think so?"

Be nice, handle this one with care, she's a bit fragile, Tony remembers as Simmons shrinks away. Oops. "Okay, that's good," he said, trying to soften his tone and his glare. "Probably enough surprises for one trip through the trippiest door ever, huh?"

But he wasn't sure that was nice enough for the amount of strained she looked. "Hey, don't take this the wrong way, especially after that thing I said about counselling earlier, but are you okay?"

She feels a bit deflated, like all of her energy simply spills out of her as soon as he asks the question. She doesn't think lying is the best course of action, especially given how this conversation is going, but she doesn't know how much she's ready to tell. "I'm not very, no. I've been working, trying to help get a ...friend ... in better condition." She's not sure what Fitz is to her anymore, because while they could have sat down and talked about it before, his lack of memory does put a dent in that plan. "He doesn't remember much and he's physically recuperating at a slower rate than I'd like."

Tony nodded sympathetically. "How about this, I'll keep an eye out for cures for drowning for you, but no promises there. The best bet I've come across lately for healing is still causing random fires...

"And meanwhile, I should let you go, shouldn't I? Thanks for the overview of the weirdness, and the heads up on...well, let's just stick with weirdness."

She still needs to get over her starstruckness at the fact that Tony Stark is offering to help her out. When she'd begun working with SHIELD, she hadn't really ever thought something like this would happen. "Thank you," she says, flooded with sincerity. "Really, and truly, thank you. Any help I can get is welcome."

Tony liked the feeling of being admired -- so much better than the feeling of being confused -- and took a couple of seconds to bask in it. "You're really, truly welcome," he said, only a tiny bit ironic as he echoed her phrasing, but in the kindest way possible.

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