Loki picks up his fork. Pokes the food on his plate. Scowls.
"What is this?" he asks, scowling again.
Darcy takes a sip of wine - okay, she drinks half of her glass in one go. She didn't think that this was going to be smooth sailing, but neither did she expect things to get difficult as soon as the appetisers were served. Loki pokes his food again, hard enough that the tines of his fork squeak against his plate. The woman sitting at the next table shoots him a narrow look, but thankfully says nothing.
Darcy fights the urge to tell Loki that he looks like a three-year-old as he slides the fork in between the layers of his food, lifts them up to inspect the filling. "It's cannelloni," she says. She forks up some from her own plate, chews and swallows. "Pasta filled with spinach and ricotta cheese."
Because you made me order, she adds silently. Because you decided that tonight, conveniently, you knew nothing about Midgardian food. And you also said that you wouldn't complain, that you would eat anything.
Loki finally picks up his knife, cuts a small piece. "It's green."
"I thought that would actually be a good thing," she says, nodding to the green silk scarf he wears with his three-piece suit. Naturally, he never conveniently forgets the intricacies of Midgardian fashion. God forbid he be seen in anything non-tailored. Or that he actually didn't wear green and black. Even now, he can't let go of that habit.
He curls his lip, but he pops the food into his mouth. Chews slowly. "There's no meat."
"That would be why the menu didn't mention any. And why I didn't when you asked me. You said it would be okay, remember?" Darcy is aware that her voice is beginning to rise above the general hubbub of the restaurant. Aware also that she doesn't care. She takes another healthy swallow of wine. Why had she thought this would be a good idea?
"In Asgard, we feast as the warriors we are." Loki sets down his cutlery, neatly lining up his knife and fork. He folds his hands on the table, and she catches a glimpse of the silver cuffs around his wrists. Engraved with runes, they are supposed to lock his magic away, render him harmless. Almost human. "We do not starve ourselves."
"Well, gee, I'm sorry the menu didn't include a roast beast on a spit. And before you think about it, don't even start on the wine, okay?" Darcy sets down her own glass so hard that the red wine spills over the edge, stains blooming on the white tablecloth.
"But we always-"
That's enough. Darcy grabs her bag and stalks back through the restaurant, ignoring the people staring at her. She's tempted to leave Loki to pay, but she just knows that he'll pull his confused-about-Midgardian-currency bit. Or manage to get arrested. And then she'll just get called in to collect him anyway, with the bonus of having to deal with a pissed-off Tony Stark. Again.
She swipes her Stark credit card, signs her name so hard that the pen bites through the paper. Cringes as she sees the amount on the receipt for all the food they haven't even eaten. It's more than she used to spend on groceries for the span of two weeks.
"Bad night, honey?" the maitre'd asks as she pulls on her coat.
"Bad life, more like."
She can't help looking back across the restaurant. Loki is still sitting where she left him, just staring at her empty chair, his eyebrows doing a wounded puppy dog thing. She makes herself turn away. Stomps out of the restaurant as best as she can in high heels.
In the time they've been inside, it's started to rain. When the car had dropped them off, the golden light of the sunset had bathed the restaurant, giving her the hope of actually having a nice evening. Even a vague hope that maybe this was going to work.
"Maybe you're just stupid, Darce," she says.
In the time is takes for her to cross the road to where the bodyguards wait in their car, she is soaked through. She knocks on the tinted window, getting a good glimpse of her once-carefully curled hair now limp and bedraggled before the guard lowers the window.
"I'm out for the night," she says. "You guys okay to get him back?"
The guard nods once, and raises the window again. She turns away before she can see her reflection again.
Across the road, the restaurant door opens. She hurries away before she can see if it's Loki coming out onto the street. She flags down the first cab she sees, crawls into the back seat. She gives the driver her address, breathes out slowly as the car accelerates into traffic.
They're crossing the bridge before she remembers that she no longer lives in Brooklyn.
She taps on the barrier. "Sorry, I gave you the wrong address. I…moved recently. Like today."
The driver says nothing, just waits for her to give him the new address.
"Stark Tower," she says. "I live at Stark Tower now."
#
When she enters the common living space the two apartments share, she is so tense that her muscles are shaking. Or maybe that's the cold, she thinks, as water puddles on the carpet beneath her feet. She plucks at the skirt of her dress. Silk, of course, and utterly ruined now.
The living space is empty, the lights out. That's a relief, at least. She'd half expected to find him there waiting.
She kicks off her shoes, picks them up by the straps. Pads across to the closed door leading to the right-hand apartment. There's no light beneath it. He could be home, and sitting in the dark or sleeping. He could still be out.
Maybe he's still in the restaurant, surrounded by a gaggle of beautiful women, laughing and being as charming as she knows he can, when he wants to.
Something twists in her at that thought. It takes her a moment to recognise it as jealousy.
"God, like I even care what he does," she says, turning away from the door. "It's not like I have to be with him every hour of the day."
She goes to the door leading to her own side of the apartment. Locks it behind her, turns on every light she can find. Grabs a beer from the well-stocked fridge, fills the bath.
All the time, she can't shake the feeling that he was standing on the other side of his door, that wounded puppy dog look still on his face.
#
"I'm guessing from the fact that you've been staring at that page all morning that last night wasn't great?" Jane asks.
Darcy looks up from the pages spread over her desk. This, too, is part of the assignment. Loki goes to work with Banner or Stark when they require his services (whatever that might actually mean), and she works with whoever needs her in the meantime.
There are dark circles beneath Jane's eyes, and Darcy just bets that she was up all night working. Again.
Jane hooks a chair, pulls it over. "And you haven't even touched your coffee. Things were that bad?"
Darcy takes off her glasses, rubs her eyes. They feel gritty, and she knows that she looks like hell. She barely slept, despite the bath and beer and a couple of sleeping pills tossed atop. And when she'd woken, the apartment had been flooded by light. Knowing that Loki was scheduled to work with Banner that day, she'd intended on being up and out of the apartment as early as possible in order to avoid him.
The shared area had been as empty as the night before, his door still closed. Somehow, not even knowing if he was home - or if he had been home - made things even worse.
"It wasn't that bad, I guess. If you define not bad as having dinner with a genocidal maniac. Is it even genocide when someone wants to kill the whole human race?" She rubs her eyes again. "Besides, I spent two and a half hours getting ready. I went out and bought a cute dress, some shiny shoes. Well, I put them on credit, anyway. So now I owe money on cute clothes that I can't even wear."
"If you send the receipts to Pepper, she'll probably cover it. Job-related expense."
Darcy raises an eyebrow. "Really?"
"You should have seen the stuff she made them cover for me the first time I went to Asgard. Just email her, and she'll take care of it. Hell, she'll probably set up an account for you somewhere. She's pushed pretty hard for this."
"I guess anyone who can love Tony Stark must have a pretty big heart." Darcy glances up at the security cameras, decides that if Stark can't handle hearing bad things about himself, then he can just deal with it.
"You don't have to do this, Darce," Jane says.
"I did volunteer."
"Because you needed the money. And the apartment." Jane hesitates, then places a hand on Darcy's shoulder. "You didn't ask to get caught up in all of this. I have some money saved up. If you need it, it's yours. Consider it a long-term loan."
Darcy has to blink away sudden tears. "You'd do that?"
"Of course. And you wouldn't even need to pay for a plane ticket. Thor could take you anywhere you want. Paris, London. You could just start over. Get away from everything."
Darcy peels off her knitted cap. Static crackles through her hair, which probably really adds to the general attractiveness she's got going on this morning. "I don't know. I figured if I could deal with-" She breaks off. Swallows. "I figured I could handle Loki. A muzzled Loki, anyway. Without his magic and strength, he's just a guy, you know?"
"I suspect you could strip everything away from Loki, and he still wouldn't be just a guy."
Darcy shakes her head. "I don't really give up on things once I've decided to do them."
"I noticed." Jane smiles. "You see something in him, don't you? In Loki?"
Darcy shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe."
"No, but I see the look in your eyes when you talk about him. It's the same kind of look Thor gets when he talks about his brother. Like he sees a different person to the rest of us." Jane goes to the coffee machine, pours two cups. She adds copious amounts of sugar and cream to Darcy's. "After New York, I spent a lot of time imagining Loki being drawn and quartered. Or electrocuted, but in a thousand little tiny shocks, each one drawn out for as long as possible. Eaten by sharks, feet first."
"Remind me never to cross you?" Darcy takes a sip of her coffee. "God, do you think I'm in shock or something? This much sugar will give me diabetes."
"You don't get diabetes from eating sugar," Jane says absently. "I do know that Thor still sees good in Loki. Enough to petition his father for one last chance for Loki. To be brought to Midgard, stripped of his powers, live as a human." She sips her own coffee. "Even for all of that hope, Thor was still worried about you last night. So much so that I practically had to tie him down to stop him coming out and checking on you."
Oh. So Jane wasn't exactly working all night, then. "Practically?" Darcy takes another mouthful of the coffee. Damn Jane, the sugar is actually helping.
Jane flushes, buries her face in her mug.
Darcy punches her lightly in the arm. "Hey, what happens in your bedroom stays in your bedroom. Except for any graphic descriptions of rippling muscles you feel like sharing. Or photos. Videos, too."
Jane punches her back, laughing. "Seriously, though, Darce, you don't have to be the one to do this."
"Hey, I'm the one who tased a god, remember?" Darcy says. "Besides, someone has to do it. And it's not like there were people lining up to volunteer." Darcy turns her mug around, rubs her thumb over the Stark logo. "You want to know the stupid thing? Even though he tried to enslave the world, even though he tried to kill us, even though besides all that, he can be a total ass, I kind of want to. I think he deserves a chance. Does that make me crazy?"
"Probably. Definitely."
"I thought so."