Disclaimer: I don't own Thor.

Summary: Twenty six drabbles and oneshots for the pairing of Loki Laufeyson and Darcy Lewis, a prompt for each letter of the alphabet. LokiDarcy, possible AU and spoilers

And, 200th fic! This is a rather amazing milestone, and it feels weird that I've gotten here but I'm super excited about it! I kinda wanted to do something special for my 200th fic, and this is the result. I've been wanting to do a oneshot collection like this for a while, and I thought what better opportunity than now? Especially with such a fun pairing. Inspiration and Thor and plenty of time to write will do that to a person. Anyway, I hope that y'all enjoy this little fic! I know I will have fun writing it! Thanks so much for checking this out!


Alphabet Soup
001. A for Argyle


"This is dreadful."

"Aw, come on, it's cute."

"Of all the words in existence, that would be the last one I would use to describe this."

Darcy grinned at the god in front of her. She was unabashed in her amusement, unconcerned that the dark-haired male might just decide to trick his way out of this, but she didn't think he would. Or, well, she hoped he wouldn't. This was way too awesome to have that happen.

"That's the first one I'd use to describe it," she replied cheekily, nudging him with her elbow. He looked awkward and tried to edge away from her, giving her a scowling look as he did so.

Loki stared at her for a moment before moving his hands to take off the offending item. He was halfway there when Darcy grasped the hem of the shirt and tugged downward, effectively pulling the item of clothing back down as well as choking the Trickster at the same time. He gave a garbled yelp of displeasure and tried to wiggle away from her.

"Aw, can't you keep it on for at least a few minutes."

"Hasn't it been an hour already?"

"More like three minutes, I believe."

Loki growled.

Darcy smirked.

"I cannot believe you are making me wear this." He fidgeted around it.

"Hey, I was surprised you consented."

"Only because you threatened me with that…taser of yours."

Darcy's grin widened. "Oh, Criss Angel Mindfreak couldn't handle a little electric current? Couldn't you magic yourself away from it?"

"I have no idea of what you speak."

"Remind me to introduce you to that later on. It's a magnificent show."

"If it's anything like that shore with the orange people, I do not want to know."

Darcy laughed outright. "There is nothing wrong with watching idiots be idiots."

"There is everything wrong with those people, Darcy."

This only caused Darcy to laugh louder, placing a hand on her stomach and squeezing her eyes shut in mirth. "You can't deny their appeal."

"What appeal do they have?" Loki started in on them. "They drink, they fornicate, they pass out, they wake up the next evening to do it all again."

"But you said you liked JWoww."

"I must have been intoxicated myself at the time," he replied, avoiding contact with Darcy's prying, curious, puppy-like eyes which seemed to gleam with oncoming victory.

"It's like watching a train wreck," she offered. "You can't look away, not even when Snooki decides the bathroom is on the dance floor."

Loki shuddered, and then tried to get rid of the mental image with no substantial success. He then wrapped his fingers around the edge of the sweater - blue with an eye-spasm-inducing pattern - and pulled upward.

"Loki!" Darcy complained as she wrapped her fingers around his own and pulled the sweater down gently. "C'mon." She pouted at him.

Loki's nose wrinkled. Oh, that was not fair. That pout…no one with a soul could resist that. And, even if his is more damaged than most, he still can succumb to the patented and infamous Darcy Lewis Pout.

"Fine," he relented, crossing his arms across the pattern displayed across his thin chest.

"No, no, no," she said, pressing her fingers around his thin forearms. "Let's see that glorious pattern."

"Glorious?" Loki questioned skeptically, but he drew his arms away from his chest anyway. "You, my dear, are delusional."

Darcy gave a laugh and then pressed his arms against his sides, as if making sure they would not move from that position.

Loki looked particularly uncomfortable, even more uncomfortable than he was when he was first presented with the ridiculous shirt. He shifted from one foot to the other, his eyes wary. Darcy stared at him for a moment, her large eyes plotting something. But what exactly, he was not certain. Loki opened his mouth to ask, but was then cut off by a phone, stuck directly in his face. And then a flash.

Spots danced around in his vision and he lifted a hand to place against his eyes. "What…was that, Darcy?"

"Nothing," Darcy chimed, scrolling through the contacts on her phone and selecting the names Jane Foster and Erik Selvig - the two that would really get the humor in this - and placing the picture file in a text to each. Too bad Thor had yet to acquire a cell. "Nothing at all."

"I hardly believe that."

She snickered. "You shouldn't."

With a grin, she pressed send.


End 001.