I could probably make you sleep. [A low murmur, something for just between them. Could make Loki warm and safe and comfortable, or could distract him and exhaust him. Both.] But. If you're sure.

[The hand slides down to Loki's bicep, giving a squeeze, before finally dropping away entirely. He motions to the reports, details, files, information. The tools of his particular trade, and the first line of defense, every time.]

For the record, I still don't like it. [Unsurprising!] But let's find a place to nail this guy with the least possible chance of this turning around and screwing us all over. Before I start regretting letting you get in on this.