Chapter Text
She woke from a knock on the door. A quick glance at her phone told her that Jane was having another one of her six AM anxiety attacks. Either that, or she’d had a breakthrough in the lab. Possibly both. When she opened the door, the first thought that went through her head was that she was lucky that Tony Stark’s air conditioned villa required wearing at least a t-shirt to bed. The second one was Damn, he still looks good.
“So,” she said to Loki. “Only six months on Earth and you’ve already learned how to knock. Perhaps there is hope for you after all.”
She had only seen him once after Sweden, once he was released from whatever quarantine-like prison they kept him in for the first month. Without a word, he had restored her eyes to their vaguely blurry old selves. She had gone straight from Thor’s apartment to the eye clinic to have laser surgery, and it had been the best five grand she’d ever spent.
He had gone to Alaska after that, she knew. Some two hundred frost giants had decided that the sweltering heat of life above the Arctic circle was preferable to the leaderless chaos of Angerboda’s old halls, and Jane had helped negotiate a contract between S.H.I.E.L.D. and that one Jotun who she tentatively called ‘friend’. Darcy had no idea what they were doing up there, and once she understood that Loki was involved, she did her best to zone out whenever Jane mentioned it.
Most days, she could almost pretend it had all been a dream, pushing it out of mind as she went about her business in the lab. The actual dreams were worse - or better, depending on how you saw things. She had considered sleeping pills.
And here she was, face to face with him again. After all this time of only somewhat unsuccessfully ignoring what had almost happened, he had chosen today to knock on her door.
“Well, what do you want?” she asked. He’d cut his hair a little, she noticed as her gaze flitted across his lean frame. Was it absolutely necessary that he wore a suit?
“Thor is missing after last night,” said Loki.
Darcy’s eyes snapped back to his, and she was temporarily lost for words. “What do you mean missing?” she managed. “How can he be missing? He’s a god and a superhero and he’s getting married tomorrow. Are you sure he’s not just... I don't know. Taking a morning walk? Flight?” An awful thought struck her. Did Norse gods get cold feet? “Has he gone off-realm?”
“No,” said Loki. “From what I understand, Volstagg supplied the bachelor party with ale from Alfheim and things got rather…”
“Alright,” interrupted Darcy. “All I know is that Tony was in charge, and honestly, that’s all anyone ever needs to know. Is he back?”
“Mr. Stark is at home but indisposed,” came JARVIS’s calm voice from the intercom.
“Eavesdropping is rude, Jeeves,” said Darcy. “I don’t care how indisposed he is, if Jane finds out Thor has gone walkabout she’s going to have a breakdown.” She turned to Loki. “I need to get dressed.”
“I could…” he said, raising his hand, then caught her eye, nodded and closed the door again.
Ten minutes later, they were in Stark’s lab, surveying the damage. It was mostly neurological, judging by the state of Thor’s friends. Tony was in his suit, sprawled on the sofa and moaning quietly. Steve Rogers was asleep on a beanbag, nursing a bucket with questionable contents. Clint Barton was snoring in a corner. Someone had drawn a mustache on him in sharpie, and he was wearing nothing but underpants. Neither Bruce Banner nor the Asgardian warriors were anywhere to be seen.
“Where are the three musketeers?” asked Darcy.
“They rode out not long ago to look for my brother.”
“They rode out?”
“Asgardians as a rule don’t drive,” said Loki. He looked around, a patronizing smile on his lips. “At least they were better off than this lot. The best part is through here, though,” he said, and motioned towards Tony’s private lab. As soon as they approached the doors, an alarm sounded.
“Turn it off!” shouted Tony, while Steve jerked awake.
“Sir, Loki does not have clearance. I strongly discourage-,”
“I don’t care, turn it off!”
The alarm went silent just in time for them to hear Captain America noisily heaving stars and stripes into his bucket.
“Charming,” said Loki, then stood aside to let Darcy pass through the door.
Inside, a steady, humming noise could be heard. It was coming from a strange contraption in the middle of the room; a large sphere made from some see-through material where something was whirring around at such high speed that it was barely visible.
“What is that?” asked Darcy.
“Mjölnir,” said Loki.
“You’re joking.”
A clunking noise behind them announced the arrival of Tony Stark. “Technically, it started as a joke,” he said tiredly. “We thought it’d be unfair if Thor had his hammer and his superhuman ability to hold his drink so Banner and I put together this little baby.”
“A Mjölnir centrifuge?”
Tony managed to almost look his normal unimpressed self. “It’s plastech coated with a hyper-repellant film,” he explained. “Essentially, it’s unbreakable from the inside, because nothing ever touches it.”
“How do you even make something like that? Wouldn’t the solutions just repel… Everything?”
Tony drew a breath as if to launch into a lecture on surface tension, then pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted. “It’s complicated.”
“I’ll bet.” Darcy frowned. “It’s trying to get back to him, isn’t it?”
“It certainly looks like it,” said Loki.
“Why don’t you just release it?” asked Darcy, taking a step forward.
“That’s probably not a good idea,” said Loki warningly.
“Edward Cullen is right,” said Tony. “Mjölnir isn’t known for shying away from short cuts, and the straightest route to Vegas happens to go through things like furniture, walls, buildings, and Hollywood in general. Not to mention this lab and my personal bedroom in particular. Pepper already had it redecorated twice this year. She’d skin me alive.”
Darcy held up a hand. “Wait, Vegas? You left Thor in Vegas?”
“No one said anything about leaving anyone anywhere,” said Tony defensively. “But yes, that’s the last place anyone actually saw him as such… To be honest, I don’t even remember how we got back here. I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s Thor. He’ll be back.”
Darcy crossed her arms and glared at him. “Are you aware that we’re supposed to be leaving for New York tonight? And that Jane is wound tighter than a goddamn Tesla coil?”
“Sir, there are reports of massive thunderstorms gathering near Valley-Fire State Park in Nevada.”
With her temples pounding in anger, she advanced, raising a finger warningly. “If she finds out you left her fiancé drunk and disoriented in the middle of the desert…”
“All right, all right,” said Tony, backing away from Darcy. “We’ll take a helicopter. Or a plane. Your pick.” He leaned against a table to steady himself. “As long as I don’t have to fly it.”
“Into a thunderstorm?” said Loki.
“No,” said Darcy, pushing past Tony. “He’s not going anywhere. He’s making sure Jane’s busy in the lab and doesn’t hear a word about this. We, on the other hand, are taking the Veyron.”
An hour later, they were firmly stuck in traffic on the I-10.
“I knew I should have taken the 210,” grumbled Darcy.
“What exactly is the point of a car like this in a city like L.A?” asked Loki.
Darcy pulled a face, then turned on the radio.
“…And for commuters heading east, police in Pomona are still working on redirecting traffic to clear the way for what appears to be intoxicated renaissance fair visitors causing a major disruption. They are all on horseback and one of them is reportedly armed with an axe…”
“Goddammit, Volstagg,” she swore and switched it off again.
They were crawling for another half hour, but once they turned onto the Mojave Freeway and left the city behind, the traffic cleared a little.
“Finally,” muttered Darcy and eased down the accelerator. The engine purred responsively, and the car shot forward. Loki gripped the edge of his seat and threw her a wary glance. “What’s the matter?” she asked as she sped across two lanes to avoid getting stuck behind a truck. “You’re practically immortal. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.” He flinched a little as she criss-crossed between the cars.
“Aw, I’m touched.”
“Don’t be. I’m merely concerned that the California state police would disagree that the speed limit had been unexpectedly raised to double the usual.”
“JARVIS owed me one,” she said as the needle on the speedometer sailed smoothly towards 120. “No troopers on the I-15 today, and he’s monitoring the police radio just in case. This car has seven gears. I intend to use all of them.”
“Miss Lewis?”
“What up Jeeves?”
“If it would be any help, I could arrange for a designated lane from Barstow onwards.”
“JARVIS, you’re a star.”
Knowing that they would be able to make up time later, Darcy relaxed her right foot a little, letting the Bugatti slow down to a modest 80. Loki looked visibly relieved, sinking down into his seat. Eyes on the road, Darcy, and not on the annoyingly attractive alien. She looked mournfully at her manicured nails and wished she had something to chew.
“Why me?” she asked instead, voicing what had been on her mind for the past two hours.
“There are plenty of answers to that question, Darcy, but if you want one from me, you’ll have to be more precise.”
She grit her teeth. He knew what she meant. “Why did you come to me this morning?”
“You were the logical choice. You know Thor, and Jane. And you trust me.”
She snorted something between a cough and a laugh. “Really? No. Just no.”
“And yet here you are.”
Darcy let her gaze flicker to him for a second. “You weren’t lying though. Your story checked out with Tony.”
“You never doubted it in the first place.”
“You’re deluded. I do not, have never, will never trust you.”
“Then let me rephrase. You’re reasonable. You draw your own conclusions. Captain America, Iron Man… Do you think they would even as much as listen to me?”
“Your actions haven’t exactly inspired confidence in the past.”
“There’s mistrust, and then there’s pure stupidity,” said Loki. “I came to you because you’re smarter than they are.”
“Flattery will get you anywhere,” said Darcy drily, but she felt a blush threatening to creep up her neck.
“Anywhere? I’ll remember that. For now, Las Vegas will do.”
Her blush deepened, this time from flustered embarrassment. Of course. The main reason he had come to her was to get a chauffeur. She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just do that shadow-stepping thing?”
“I could do it. My brother could not. Besides, my use of magic has been severely restricted.”
“Restricted how?”
“I gave Thor my word.” She turned to stare at him. “Car,” he said, pointing ahead, and with an inch to spare, she overtook it on the hard shoulder.
“Your word?” she said. “Just how stupid is he?”
“A question I have asked myself for longer than I can remember.”
But Thor wasn’t stupid, she knew. And if she knew, Loki did as well. She smiled wryly. “And yet here you are.”
They looked at each other for a couple of seconds, and just as Loki’s mouth started pulling into a grin, JARVIS’S calm voice made her tear her gaze away and to the road again. “We’re approaching Barstow, Miss Lewis. I shall require another twenty minutes to clear a lane for you. May I suggest a coffee while you wait?”
“JARVIS, have I ever told you you’re an absolute treasure?”
“Often and loudly, Miss Lewis. Take the next exit and follow my directions.”
The bakery was small, quaint and mostly empty. Darcy excused herself and went to the restroom, and when she returned, Loki had ordered. She sat down opposite him to coffee and a slice of strawberry tart, picked up the fork, and then paused. Strawberry tart. Carefully, she scooped a piece into her mouth and couldn’t help but think about the last time she’d had strawberry tart. In a forest. On Asgard. With Loki. And they had… She chewed vigorously, then sipped at her coffee.
“Good?” he asked.
“Thanks,” she mumbled. “It’s great.”
“I’m sure it’s adequate. Hardly Asgardian standard, but…”
Oh God, he remembers as well. “So,” she said loudly. “What have you been up to?”
He seemed to hesitate slightly before answering. “You still work with Jane Foster, do you not?”
“Yes?” Loki was watching her intently, his jaw set and tense. “What?” she said. “I’m not trying to pry any secrets from you, I’m just making conversation.”
He looked down at his coffee. “Of course. You know, then, that she is working with Heimdall on setting up a Bifrost mechanism.”
“Sure, yeah.” It made her tired, just thinking about it. “So much data,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Loki smiled briefly. “I’ll try to keep it to a minimum in the future.”
Darcy went cold. Jane hadn’t told her she was actually working with Loki. Then she went hot. Why hadn’t she told her? Because I didn’t want her to talk about Loki, did I? Did I? Everything was suddenly very confusing. “Don’t worry about it,” she managed. “It pays the bills.”
“Other than that, I’ve been cleaning up after Thor,” said Loki lightly. “A Sisyphean task, as you would call it here on Earth.”
“What’s he done now?”
“You know Thor. He likes to leave loose ends, and this time it fell to me to round up ten black does from the forests of Alfheim, all because he made some rash promises back on Jotunheim.”
“Technically, anything Thor did on Jotunheim is your fault,” Darcy reminded him.
“Perhaps,” said Loki. “However, one might argue that he owes me much and more for numerous rash promises made in the past. Remind me sometime to tell you of the day when the walls of Asgard were built.”
“Why, what happened?”
“It’s too early in the morning for that sort of tale,” he said darkly. “Besides, we should be on our way.”
They both got their wallets out at the same time, and after a short but intense staring contest, Loki pocketed his while Darcy tucked a bill under her saucer. As they got up to leave, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket.
“Shit,” she said, looking at the preview of the text message. “Jane’s up.”
“Keys,” said Loki, holding a hand out.
“What?”
“Keys. Texting while driving is dangerous, not to mention illegal. I’ll drive and you can deal with Jane.”
The desert heat hit her like a wall as they stepped outside, and Darcy fumbled for words. “But... But you said you didn't drive!”
“I said no such thing.”
“You did. You clearly said ‘Asgardians don’t drive’.”
“Asgardians as a rule. Keys.” He extended his hand again just as they reached the car.
“I want to see your license,” said Darcy, crossing her arms.
Loki raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed, but fished his wallet out once more, flipped it open and held it out. She narrowed her eyes. It was a good fake. With a good picture.
“It says your name is Luke,” she said. “Also, it was issued two years ago.”
“It also says I’m thirty-three years old,” said Loki, snapping the wallet shut. “Trust me, I can drive.”
He could, as it turned out, which once again begged the question of ‘why her?’. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. While she frantically exercised some damage control via short message service, Loki steered them onto the road again, and once outside the city, they had an entire lane and a dead straight stretch of highway at their disposal. After a few minutes of nervous glancing at his lazy one-handed grip on the wheel, Darcy put her phone down and turned the stereo on.
“What is this?” said Loki in a disgusted voice after a couple of seconds.
Darcy leered at him. “It's Kanye West,” she said. “Good, isn’t it?”
“It is not good. It’s a bastardization of the fine work of Curtis Mayfield. It’s nothing short of a crime.”
She gave an incredulous laugh. “Okay then. I think they’re both good songs. What do you know about Curtis Mayfield anyway?”
“Alaska has nothing but ice, mountains and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s high speed internet,” said Loki. “Music makes for a pleasant distraction.”
“If last.fm was the best thing you found to keep you busy online, you haven’t been looking very hard.”
“Oh please. Tabs, Darcy, tabs.”
“Remind me not to look at your search history,” she muttered.
“I’m no stranger to the incognito window.”
“Loki, no.”
“You know, it’s often said that 37 percent of the internet is pornography, but that estimate seems exaggerated. I would put the number closer to 25.”
“Ew, gross!”
“It’s a lonely life above the arctic circle…”
“I don’t want to know!”
“...and disproving statistics has become a favorite pastime of mine.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. Loki snorted as well, then sighed and shook his head.
“What?” she asked.
He flashed her a lopsided smile. “Perhaps I should ask Jane for your services as an assistant. You’re better company than Jotuns. Not to mention Heimdall.”
“Did you miss me that much?” she said jokingly. But Loki didn't reply, and her own smile died on her lips as he looked away, focusing intently on the road ahead.
“I should apologize,” he said after a while.
“For what?”
“For a great many things. Holding you captive. Bringing you from Asgard against your will. Assuming I knew your heart.”
She nodded slowly. “All right,” she said. “Go ahead.”
“What do you mean?”
“Go ahead and apologize.”
He frowned. “I just did.”
“No you didn’t. You said you should. If you’re sorry, say you’re sorry.”
Loki threw her a weird look, drew a breath as if to say something, then hmmed, drumming his thumb on the steering wheel. “I'm sorry,” he said at length.
Darcy gave a mocking little gasp. “Do my ears deceive me?” she said, then reached out to lightly punch his shoulder. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Was it not? I think I can feel a rash developing.”
The thunderclouds were looming on the horizon several miles before they reached Las Vegas, and as the sky darkened, their moods turned sombre. Darcy looked out the window with mild interest as they passed Sin City, slowed down once again by other cars. She’d never been to Vegas, and whether it was the daylight, the lack of the filter of the silver screen, or that she could only see the back of the hotels, it looked tackier, older and more run down than she’d ever imagined it to be. As they drove on, the traffic thinned until they were the only car going north. The ones they met going south flashed their headlights in an attempt to get them to turn around, all of them grimy and brown, covered in some sort of dust.
“Sand,” said Darcy.
“Please tell me you didn’t only just notice that we’re in the desert.”
“No, the cars. They’re all covered in sand.”
“Then I suppose those aren’t just low clouds.”
A few miles down the road, the sandstorm hit them, and the visibility became so bad they nearly collided with an abandoned car that had been left in the middle of the road. Loki pulled them over, and for a while they sat watching the raging brown dust outside. There were flashes as well, flickering indistinctly ahead of them. Thor.
“Well, I had better get to it,” said Loki with a sigh and reached for the handle.
“Aren’t we going to wait it out?” Just then, her phone began bleeping.
“We don’t have the time. His tantrums can last for weeks.”
She peered out at the howling storm. “I don’t know if I’ll survive out there.”
“Let’s not attempt to find out,” said Loki and stepped outside, quickly slamming the door behind him. Seconds later, he was gone from view.
Darcy get her phone out and scrolled through the messages. “God damn it, Stark,” she muttered. “You had one job…”
Jane was in hysterics. As far as Darcy could tell, she had pried at least half the truth from Tony, and it wasn’t the half she’d preferred. Her thumbs hovering over the touch screen, she tried to think of a good lie. The phone bleeped again. A really good lie. Then the phone rang, and Darcy panicked and clicked it away.
And then, the storm died down. Slowly, the dust settled and the clouds dispersed. In the distance, she could see two figures, walking towards the car. Her phone rang again, and this time she picked it up and told Jane they were coming back.
The wedding was adorable. Of course it was. It was held in the Swedish consulate in Manhattan with a select few attending. According to the United States of America, Thor was still an alien, and technically not eligible for marriage. According to all five Nordic countries, Thor was most definitely human, even if he came with a ‘super’ affixed to him. That he had chosen the Swedish passport for this particular occasion had led to a diplomatic crisis between Stockholm and Oslo that had required a phone call from Hr. Odinson himself to resolve.
Now, it was Midsummer’s Eve, the commissioner had a terrible accent, and Thor was winning her over by speaking some kind of Old Norse. In the chair next to Darcy sat the one person who could translate.
“What did he say?” she whispered to Loki.
“Hmm?”
“Thor. What did he say to the Swede?”
He sat up a little straighter. “Oh. I wasn’t paying attention. Judging from the smug look on his face it was something pompous and utterly unimportant.”
“I don’t think so,” mused Darcy quietly, looking at Thor. He in turn only had eyes for Jane. “I think it was something sweet.”
Loki snorted, and in the front row, Natasha Romanov turned around to glare at them.
The ceremony itself was over in minutes. Darcy signed her name neatly next to Tony Stark’s rockstar autograph on the documents, the commissioner read a poem in Swedish, and rings were exchanged. When Jane more or less climbed Thor like a tree in order to kiss him, Darcy had to dab at her eyes with a napkin that she had wisely tucked away up the sleeve of her jacket. She half expected Loki to make faces behind his brother’s back, but when she looked his way she found him watching her pensively, and something in her stomach did a strange little flip.
If the wedding had been modest, the party that followed was anything but. Apparently, what had come to pass two days ago was now long forgotten, and as the grand finale of the banquet, Thor happily smashed the tap off an enormous keg of mead, then proceeded to drink straight from the gushing jet that sprayed across the floor. As he wiped the foam from his beard, music struck up, and he swept Jane into his arms and spun her around before launching into a fast-paced, intricate dance which he seemed to be highly proficient in, and Jane less so. To the clapping and cheering of the rest of the party, they whirled round and round until Jane slipped over on the mead-soaked floor and collapsed in a fit of laughter. While she went to wash up, the party was served what remained of the mead, and when the band began playing a waltz, the floor gradually filled up with guests and their plus-ones. Thor came to stand next to Darcy.
“Would you kindly do me a favor, Darcy?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said and downed the last of the mead in her glass. It was strong stuff, and she already felt a pleasant buzz. She was ready to take on anything.
“Dance with my brother.”
Okay, almost anything. “…Loki?” she said after a moment’s hesitation.
“Have I any other brothers that you are aware of?”
She glanced over at him where he stood, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, eyes flitting alertly over the crowd. “I don't think he wants to,” she said.
“It pains me to see the only family I have here not enjoying himself at my wedding.”
“He doesn't strike me as the dancing type.”
“On the contrary. He’s an excellent dancer. Please, Darcy. For my sake?”
“Why me?” she whined.
“Who else? You sat with him at the ceremony, and at the table…”
“Whoever put the placement cards out was clearly new, I personally helped you with that part of the planning, and I did not…” She trailed off as she realized it might not have been a mistake after all.
“He has taken a liking to you,” said Thor. “He speaks well of you.”
“Bullshit.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “As well as Loki would,” he said.
She chewed her lip. “All right,” she said. “For you.”
Darcy made her way towards him, skirting around the dance floor. She still couldn’t get over his suit. Even here, in a sea of black, white and grey, he looked out of place somehow.
“Hey,” she said, coming to stand next to him. There was plenty of space along this particular stretch of wall, and the reason was six foot three inches of Norse mythology of the less savory kind.
“Do you not dance?” he asked.
“You normally start by dancing with your date,” she said. She wasn’t sure whether she meant it to be an excuse or an invitation.
Loki raised an eyebrow and looked very much like he was about to fire off some snide remark, but then his gaze drifted aside for a second. “Come then,” he said suddenly, and set his hand in the small of her back to urge her onto the dance floor.
Glancing behind her, she could see Fandral, smoothing his jacket down and looking delightfully disappointed. Then Loki took a firm hold of her hand and hip and pulled her close until her body was flush against his. He began moving, and she almost tripped backwards over her own feet trying not to get trampled.
“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.
“Relax and follow,” he said, taking another step that made her shuffle back desperately.
“When you’re trying to walk through me?”
He sighed, then spread his fingers across her back, pressing her close again. “Do you feel my hip against yours? Good. Keep it that way. When I push, follow. When I step aside, follow. Imagine your hip is glued to mine. Stand on my feet if you must.”
“Do I look five years old?”
He ignored that, and Darcy was seething, but when he next moved, she followed. For the first minute or so she kept trying to preempt his movements, but after a sharp reminder from Loki she did nothing but concentrate on her hip, and all of a sudden, they were dancing. He gave the slightest of nods in approval, and she beamed back at him.
“I’m a quick learner,” she said loftily.
“And even quicker to congratulate yourself for even the smallest success.”
“Is your middle name Destroyer Of All Fun? Because it totally should be.”
“Names.”
“What?”
“Names. Destroyer Of All Fun is four words.”
“It could be a double barreled name. A quadruple barreled name.”
Bickering with him was too much fun. Before long, Darcy was grinning openly, and even the corner of Loki’s mouth was pulling a little. For a while, they danced in silence, and without the banter to keep her occupied, she started noticing things. Like the way others stared at them, and the way Loki ignored them. The way he still smelled like a crisp fall morning with a hint of snow on the wind, and the way she really didn’t mind being squashed against him for several minutes.
When the music died down, he stepped away and bowed his head politely before disappearing to his spot by the wall again. Darcy, however, was far from done with this evening. She danced, and danced, and then danced some more. She waltzed again, this time with Volstagg, whose hip was virtually nonexistent, and then with Thor, who laughed more than he led. She took a tour of the floor in some strange Midsummer conga with Sif and Natasha, and spent a considerable amount of time dancing smoothly away from Fandral.
It was well past midnight when her feet had finally decided that she either needed to drink a whole lot more, or have a sit down in order to make it through the night. In a fit of good character, she slumped down at an abandoned table with a glass of water and fanned herself with a silvery party hat. When Loki joined her a few moments later with a glass of wine, she was somehow not surprised.
“You’re still here,” she remarked.
“A show of goodwill,” he said in his most insincere voice.
“No,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “You’re here because you think you might benefit somehow.”
“Why does everyone always assume that I’m scheming?”
“Because you are always scheming.”
“I simply plan ahead,” he said, then fished out a smartphone and quickly snapped a shot of Tony Stark, asleep in a chair in a highly unflattering position.
“What are you going to do with that?” she asked. “Sell it to the tabloids?”
“Like I said, I plan ahead.”
His mere presence made her peevish, and some urge made her reach out and grab at his leg, just as she had done that time in Asgard, invisible in Odin’s council room. Just like that time, Loki stiffened and shifted in his seat, and Darcy suppressed a snort.
“Was there something you wanted?” he asked.
“Not really,” she said happily.
“Very well,” said Loki. He adjusted his position a little, slipping down into a comfortable slouch, legs spread in a way that seemed strangely inappropriate for a half-god at a wedding reception. He sat close enough for their legs to touch, and when he tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his knee, she couldn’t help but think about how they were just a few inches and three layers of satin away from her bare skin.
“Was there something you wanted?” she asked.
Loki gave a shrug, took a sip of wine, and grimaced. “My brother is married and looking revoltingly happy about it. I would be glad for a distraction.”
“So you came to me.”
“I enjoy your company,” he said.
She huffed. “Are you drunk?”
“On this?” he asked, motioning at the glass in front of him. “Not before I die from water poisoning. It was an honest compliment, Darcy.”
For a while, she sat in stunned silence, trying to process that information. It felt as though the past two days had led up to this point; the strawberry tart, the bantering, the dance… Heart pounding hard in her chest, she leaned forward, casually resting one arm on the table in front of them. She let her other hand drop down to her knee, and brushed her fingers against his. He went tense, and for a second she felt herself panicking before he moved his hand to gently stroke the inside of her wrist. Darcy swallowed hard and looked around the room. No one seemed aware that there was anything out of the ordinary going on under the tablecloth. Clint Barton was drunk and dancing less than gracefully on his own. She let her fingers slide over his, hooking them briefly and then releasing them again. Over at the bar, Bruce Banner and Steve Rogers were engrossed in conversation while Pepper Potts and Banner's date - Bessie? Beth? Something like that - had taken up store behind the bar, and were mixing drinks for off-duty S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Loki carefully intertwined their hands, then let his fingers slide slowly back and forth between hers. For some reason, it felt insanely erotic, and Darcy realized her mouth had fallen open, and quickly snapped it shut. Her eyes wandered on to Jane and Thor, and she froze. Jane was looking right at her with a slight frown. Just as she was about to pull her hand away, Loki began gently rubbing the soft skin between her fingers, and she had to bite her lip not to gasp out loud. Masking her reaction with a slight cough, she raised her other hand and waved uncertainly at Jane who waved back slowly before shrugging and turning back to Thor. Darcy risked a glance at Loki. He looked perfectly calm, bordering on bored, but under the table, his hand was splayed across hers, fingers digging softly into her leg through the dress.
An utterly ridiculous idea struck her, and for some reason, she acted on it. “I’m going to leave now,” she said. “If you want to, wait a few minutes and then…”
“Go.”
Darcy stood up and made for a pair of double doors, avoiding Jane’s eyes and trying her best to look like someone on her way to powder her nose. Luck had it that there was a bathroom in the hallway beyond, and she slipped inside. She looked in the mirror and tucked away a stray lock of hair, then pulled the bodice of her dress up a little before drawing a deep breath and heading out into the corridor again. Not far away, there was a door in an alcove, half-hidden in the shadows. She hurried over to it and leaned against the cool, smooth wood, trying to still her frantic heart. She glanced over to the entrance to the banquet hall, and moments later he appeared, so she stepped out into the dim light of the hallway. His eyes flashed darkly when he saw her, and before she knew it, he had her pinned against the door, kissing her roughly. The small, shivering flame that she’d tried so hard to suffocate suddenly flared hot in her belly. Almost instinctively, she reached down, dragging her fingers across his hip and down, letting them glide over the smooth fabric of his pants. She could feel his lips pull into a smile, felt him take her hand to press it against his erection. He moaned into her mouth, then ran his hands over the silky fabric of her dress, down the small of her back and further to grab at her asscheeks.
“What’s in here?” she said and fumbled behind her for the handle, which rattled unyieldingly. “Never mind, it’s locked.”
Loki reached for it, whispered a strange word and smiled. “Try now.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to use magic,” said Darcy as they stumbled through into the dark room beyond, still tangled together.
“I’ll take my chances,” said Loki and kicked the door shut.
It was some sort of storage room. Unused folding chairs lined the walls, and a few of the tables used at the banquet had been hastily put aside here. Darcy backed into one of them, and Loki reached around her to sweep a bundle of tangled streamers and a couple of empty plastic cups to the floor, then lifted her with ease, perched her on the edge of the table and kissed her again. She hooked her leg around his to pull him closer, but instead he grabbed it and raised it to his lips, then half kissed, half bit into her calf, all while running his hand down her thigh, pushing the skirts aside. She arched herself off the table to let him pull her panties off, then reached forward to grapple with his belt and zipper.
“Wait,” he breathed.
“What.” Pushing down the waistband of his boxers, she spared a brief, bewildered thought for the impossibly ridiculous fact that Loki had, at some point, been shopping for normal underwear, and freed his cock. She edged forward until she could nudge it against her clit, making herself jump from the sensation.
“Are you sure?” he said.
“Shut up and get in me, will you,” she said, pressing against his hardness until he finally obliged.
She let out an undignified moan as he pushed inside her, and from then on, any pretense of finesse went out the window. Loki fumbled with her breasts like a horny teen while she pulled ineffectually at his shirt, trying to yank him closer. She had a feeling he was trying to be careful, and worried fleetingly about superhuman thrust power until he distracted her by moving his hand between them. With desperate, erratic motions he worked her clit, the occasional buzz of magic that seemed to slip through by accident making her jerk under his fingers.
“Don't worry about it,” she said, pushing his hand away. She sank down on her elbows, raised her knees to his sides and drove her hips up hard, drawing a strangled grunt from him.
“Darcy,” he said, an almost pleading look in his eyes.
“I said don’t worry about it.”
He cursed and grabbed a hold of her legs, and for the best part of two minutes, he fucked her like a god before shuddering inside her with a drawn-out groan.
“Wow,” said Darcy as he slumped over her. “That was intense.”
Loki shook his head, forehead resting on her shoulder. “No,” he said, breathing hard. “That was pitiful.”
She couldn’t help but snort a giggle. Loki snapped his head up and gave her a look so hurt that she bit her lip. Still, that didn’t stop her shoulders from shaking with the laughter that was bubbling up inside her. In the dim light she thought she could make out a faint flush on his cheeks, but then the corner of his mouth twitched, and suddenly they were both laughing.
“You’ll just have to owe me,” said Darcy as he pulled her up and onto the floor. She straightened her skirts, then looked around for her panties.
Loki handed her a fresh pair that weren’t the same she’d been wearing before. They looked distinctly Asgardian. She stared at them for a couple of seconds, then shrugged and yanked them on to stop the sticky trickle down the inside of her thighs.
“I’m not overly fond of debts,” he said, picking at some invisible speck of dust on his shirt sleeve, “and this one I’d prefer to settle sooner rather than later.
“It was a joke,” she said, pulling her fingers through her tangled hair. How was he already looking practically impeccable again?
“Yes it was,” he said. “I believe the appropriate question is ‘my place or yours?’”
Loki wasn’t there when she woke. She knew as soon as she drifted into consciousness. It wasn’t just the lack of his bodyweight pulling her towards the middle of the mattress, but a distinct feeling of emptiness in her entire flat. Well, what had she expected? She would have done the same, and really, she could count herself lucky that she hadn’t had to do the sneaking out this time. Besides, the night had been… awkward. No debts paid as such. There had been wine, and talking, and eventually sleeping. Oddly enough, it felt like the best sleep she’d had in years. After a long glance out the window, she sighed at herself for being silly, grabbed her favorite towel where it hung from the back of her desk chair, then headed for the bathroom.
Some ten minutes into her well-deserved shower she started wondering at what point someone (likely Tony Stark) had replaced her lily-of-the-valley creme soap with bacon-scented body wash, then realized that she could actually smell something cooking. She rinsed off quickly, wrapped the towel around her hair and pulled on panties and a tank top, then ventured into the kitchen. Against all reason, Loki was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Against all reason, he was frying bacon. It was quite possibly the first time that pan had seen food. Loki glanced over at her.
“There was a distinct lack of breakfast meats in your fridge,” he said, as if it would explain things.
Then she suddenly remembered a morning in New Mexico - one those first days of the rest of her life. It seemed like ages ago now, but yes, she definitely recalled that somewhere between parading his abs around the kitchen, eating a week’s supply of pop tarts and stealing Jane’s heart, Thor had made them all breakfast. Perhaps it was an Asgardian thing. She sat down at the table, unwrapped the towel to shake out her damp hair, and watched him work. The strangely comfortable silence was broken by the buzzing of her mobile phone on the sideboard. Darcy went to snatch it up, not in the slightest surprised at the name on the screen.
“How many times, Thor?” she said. “It’s texts only before 11 on a weekend.”
“It's half past noon.”
She glanced at the microwave and mentally adjusted the time four hours (and once again told herself to set it properly before another power cut confused things even further). “So it is,” she conceded.
“I have to ask…” Thor hesitated, and Darcy could tell what was coming from a mile away.
"Yes, he’s here,” she said. “Do you want to talk to him?”
“No,” said Thor, managing to sound both relieved and concerned at the same time. “We have business to attend to, but it’s not urgent.”
“I’m sure he’ll be along soon. After he finishes his breakfast meats.”
“I need two hours,” said Loki without turning around.
“Two hours, apparently.”
“I heard him. Darcy, are you well?”
She thought about it. “All things considering, I’m great. Thanks for asking.”
As she clicked away the call, Loki set two plates down on the table. Crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, toast with apricot jam and fried tomatoes crowded them, and for a second she felt as though she was back in London, around the corner from their house at the greasy spoon café that served breakfast from dawn til dusk. They ate in silence, and he wore an amused half-smile on his lips that was equally unnerving and devastatingly attractive.
“Thank you for making me breakfast,” she said as they stood side by side, she washing the dishes and he rinsing them off and placing them in the draining tray.
“I made me breakfast,” he said. “Chance had it that you woke, and even a prince must share when he is guest in another house.”
Darcy rolled her eyes at him, and he grinned. “What are you doing before meeting Thor for intergalactic adventure time?” she asked.
He stepped close and slipped his arms around her, grabbed a hold of her ass and lifted her on to the countertop. “Resolving an outstanding debt.”
Using magic was cheating, Darcy decided as he bent down to bury his face between her thighs and drag his teeth over her panties. A shock of energy shot through her, wickedly pleasant and powerful. It was also overwhelming and unexpected, and it made her grab a fistful of his hair and jerk him away.
“What?” he said and looked up at her with a frown.
“I just… I wasn’t prepared for that.” She untangled her fingers from his dark tresses, and he stood again.
“Prepared for what?”
“Bzzz,” she said, motioning with her hand. “Do you even have sex without the special effects? Ever?”
“It’s who I am,” said Loki. “Why would I?”
“You should try it,” said Darcy. “Hard mode. No cheat codes.”
“Then you should show me,” he said.
She could feel the pulse in her temples, felt her hand shake slightly as she reached up to push his hair aside, then leaned in and kissed him. Here, in her messy kitchen, in the stark light of day, he was so real. Too real. When she parted her lips, he followed suit, and his tongue brushed lightly against hers. He tasted of salt and orange juice and guilty pleasure, but by now, reason was being shoved into a deep and dark corner of her brain by choice parts of the limbic system. She dug her fingers in his hair and deepened the kiss, and although Loki was responsive enough, he felt strangely passive, his hands resting on her thighs.
“It’s okay to touch,” she said.
For a moment he looked annoyed, but then he began moving his hands, tracing circles on her legs with his thumbs. He bent down to bury his face in her hair and mumbled something she couldn't quite catch, but the way his lips brushed against her neck made her skin prickle. She leaned into him, turning the light touch into something more, something that drew a shuddering sigh from her. As if a dam had broken, his hands suddenly found their way under her top, dancing over her back, swiping trails along her ribs, cupping her breasts, fingers fluttering over her nipples until they stiffened. She grabbed his hands and shoved them against her chest, making him squeeze her breasts gently, pushing and massaging until she moaned out loud.
He let his hands travel down to her panties to tug and tease and grab at her asscheeks while he kissed her again. Then he pulled away, raised a hand and trailed two fingers along her bottom lip. Almost instinctively, she opened her mouth and caught them between her lips. Loki paused and gave a short laugh. She bit down at his fingers lightly and smiled, then sucked the tips further into her mouth. He gasped quietly and watched, lips slightly parted, as she slowly took the full length of them into her mouth. She let her tongue swirl lazily around them, and his hips jerked forward slightly. Edging her leg between his, she rubbed her shin against his hardon, all while sucking at his fingers. Loki closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly, for a few moments indulging in her ministrations. Then he grinned, shook his head and looked at her again.
“Now, now,” he said. “This was supposed to be about you.”
He pulled his hand away from her mouth, and swiftly eased his fingers down her panties. Still wet, they found her clit and began tracing gentle circles around it. This time, there were no sparks, and his touch was so light that she almost felt like pressing her hand down on his to get the friction she longed for, but she bit her lip and resisted. She was used to guys rubbing just about any part down there as vigorously as possible, and this was a– She whimpered and dug her nails into his arm as his fingers flitted over her clit once more. This was a pleasant change.
Looking into his eyes was still a little bit too freaky, so she closed hers and imagined them instead. Slowly, a pressure began building inside her. Sighs and gasps of pleasure came closer and closer until she was breathing them without pause, and his touch was still infuriatingly light, and it seemed that instead of meeting her mounting need, he began slowing down. She wanted to press against him, but when she moved her hips, his hand drew back, the other one moving to clamp down on her thigh. Then she opened her eyes to look at him. He was smiling. With a frustrated moan, she jerked towards him again, but he held her firmly down. God, she was close. If only… She reached down, but a stern look from Loki stopped her from actually following through.
“You're killing me,” she groaned.
“Don't exaggerate,” said Loki calmly.
“You know what I mean. Just... Just…”
He tutted, keeping up that same relentless, featherlight stroke with his fingers. They brushed over her clit again and she cried out. She felt her thighs tense up involuntarily, and knew she had reached that sudden point of no return. That touch was all she needed now; any touch, no matter how fleeting or light.
And then he stopped. Just like that, his fingers were gone.
“No, don’t,” she said, fumbling for his arm, but he distracted her with a kiss, then pulled her closer and lifted her up. He carried her towards the bedroom, and when she ground against his belt buckle with every step, it was almost enough to push her over the edge.
“Was that sufficient evidence that I can hold my own without magic?” he asked as he put her down on the bed.
“Does it look like it?” she said, scrambling backwards to make space. Furiously, she wrestled with her top to get it over her head. “I’ve never been left more not satisfied.”
“Damn,” said Loki, knelt between her legs, and started pulling her panties down. “I guess I shall have to try harder.”
“Why are you even still dressed? I would have thought– Holy shit.”
Instead of replying, Loki had simply bent down and put his mouth on her, his tongue cool and soft against her hot folds and tender pearl as he kissed her there. He hmmed contentedly, then he raised his head to look at her.
“I owe you,” he said. “What I wear is of little consequence.”
“Yeah, but I really wouldn't mind actually…”
“There’ll be time for that, too.”
She sighed as he bent down again, then winced as he swirled his tongue over that sensitive bundle of nerves. Seconds later, she was already grabbing at the sheets. Fuck, he was good. He licked her with slow, firm, purposeful strokes, and while she now had the pressure she wanted, she was soon going crazy at his leisurely pace. Each time his tongue reached the top of her lips and dragged over her clit, she felt her blood surge. Each time, she prayed he would just stay there, maybe suck a little, maybe flick the tip of his tongue just so. And yet, with every deliberate stroke, she came closer and closer to coming undone, until she arched her hips towards him and, and… The feeling of disappointment and frustration as he sat back and wiped his chin on the back of his hand was devastating.
“Why?” she yowled, slapping her hands down on the mattress.
“Was that better?” he asked.
Darcy’s cheeks were burning up, and she wasn’t sure whether she was more angry or horny. “Either you stop teasing, or I’ll take care of myself,” she said.
“I just feel so inadequate, not using my full array of tricks,” said Loki innocently.
“You could magic away those clothes,” she suggested.
“No, because that would be cheating, wouldn’t it?”
He stood back and casually pulled his t-shirt off, revealing a more muscular torso than she had expected, but still lean and angular, and without an inch of fat on it. With a growl, she sat up and tugged at his belt until it unbuckled, then pulled at the buttons until they came apart, but before she could do anything else, he swept her hands away. Like hot, white lightning, a burst of anger shot through her chest and down her arms.
“Fine,” she said, shoving at him to push him away. He barely shifted an inch. She shoved again, with all her might. No result, other than the grin on his face widening. “Ugh!” she said, then turned her back to him, arms crossed and trembling with rage and stupid, pent-up desire.
“This would be so much simpler if you just let me do it my way,” he said, and brushed a finger along her shoulder. The touch was humming with magic.
“You were doing great. Until you stopped. Twice.”
She felt him kneel behind her, felt his hands on her hips. When one of them came up to cup at a breast, and the other traveled down her belly, she felt sparks across her skin, and couldn’t help but tip her head back against his chest. He edged closer, and when she felt something hard brush against her back, she realized he had magicked away his jeans after all. Instinctively, she pressed her ass up against his cock.
“Can I–,” he started as he brushed his fingers over her clit.
“Yes,” she said empathically, and he laughed quietly into the crook of her neck.
“Will you let me do this my way?”
“I don’t care, just do something.”
He shifted underneath her, and then pushed into her.
“Jesus Christ,” she gasped, fumbling behind her until she could grab at his hair.
“Wrong pantheon,” said Loki.
She slammed her other hand down on his, forcing him to rub rather than tease. “Oh my god,” she said as he finally, finally gave her what she wanted.
“Yes, that I can live with,” said Loki, and let loose his magic.
An hour or so later, she was drifting off to sleep. She would come to regret this. That much was for sure. She’d always been demanding in bed, and Loki had just raised the bar for everyone else by miles. The bed sagged suddenly, and she opened her eyes to look up at him. He was fiddling with something, and curiosity drove her to sit up and peer over his shoulder. It was the bracelet he had made in Asgard. It was still eerily beautiful, the black and brown strands of hair once again shimmering with that particular luster that marked it as magical, almost alive.
“You left this in the Gullviðr,” he said.
She frowned. “I don't remember leaving it. I must have dropped it.”
He seemed about to say something, then turned away for a moment, giving an exasperated sigh. “You do know this is a virtually invaluable gift?”
“Yeah, you keep telling me. It was creepy as hell, though. I couldn't take it off.”
“It won’t do that anymore.” He held it out. “Wear it and I will know. Should you ever wish to…” He raised a suggestive eyebrow.
“Oh my God, Loki,” she said. “Can't you just give me your number like a normal person?”
“You can have that, too.”
Darcy threw her head down on the pillow and groaned, then spent a few seconds staring at the ceiling, seriously contemplating it. She glanced back at him. His face was unreadable now, but she remembered damn well what he’d looked like half an hour earlier, bucking underneath her. She sat back up again. “All right.”
“Very well.” He grabbed her dream diary from the bedside table, turned to the last page and magicked forth a pen. A leftie, she noted, watching as he scribbled down a cell phone number in a fluid, effortlessly elegant hand.
“Leifr was right-handed,” she said, remembering that afternoon in Asgard with acute clarity. His handwriting had been different, too.
“Observant as ever,” he said and closed the book. “I am a shapeshifter. I am who I choose to be.”
“Aren’t we all?” said Darcy.
He looked at her levelly for a second or two, then rose from the bed. “I’ll leave this for you to do with what you will,” he said and placed the bracelet on the diary.
“Thanks, I suppose. Maybe I’ll try and sell it, what with it being invaluable and all.” Loki froze, a horrified look on his face, causing Darcy to laugh out loud. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll keep the black magic bond bangle safe. Although it could do with a bit of functionality. Like Google maps, SnapChat, some sort of basic text messaging service at least. A Skype app maybe. A pop-up keyboard would be nice…”
Loki smiled. “Old-fashioned though it may be, it outperforms all Midgardian gadgets in one area.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Five-bar reception from the fires of Muspelheim to Tokyo, Japan,” he said and grinned.
For once, he had the decency to leave by the door.