Summary: Any day can be a bad day, but you can get through it if you just remember what you really need. This is just one of Darcy's truths. Shuffle30 challenge. Prompt: "Bare Necessities" from The Jungle Book.
Darcy tried to make herself as small as possible on the ultra modern couch in Tony Stark's office. There was a Norse God in the room, and it was not the big, friendly kind. "Don't piss him off. Don't piss him off" she chanted under her breath. Of course Tony Stark, billionaire playboy, philanthropist, and self-absorbed asshole didn't listen to her. Or to common sense. Darcy squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the world to end.
A moment later there was an enormous crash from across the room. She opened her eyes and spun around "Oh my god!" she shouted as Stark went flying backwards out the window. She stumbled up and away from the wreckage, taking refuge in the corner by Tony's workstation. "You threw him out the window!"
Loki, God of Mischief and Lies, turned and moved towards her, a non-plussed look on his face.
Darcy blenched and backed quickly away, keeping the sleek desk between her and the mad god. He smirked at her.
She looked back towards the shattered glass wall, a dazed expression on her soft face, "I've wanted to do that for months" she mused. She then let out a startled little meep and slapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes flicked up to meet Loki's, mortified by her outburst, but he just smirked at her and bent over the workstation, laying one hand on the computer. She stayed quietly in the corner created by the wet bar and fireplace, watching him work, nervously shifting on her feet. "Crap." She muttered to herself, looking at the form on the top of her clipboard.
The god sent her a brief glance from under dark brows. "I needed to get this signed today… Tony was being difficult…" she babbled. The Norse God turned back to what he was doing.
Darcy contemplated her options. She was trapped; with a mad god between her and the door. By her estimation, she had maybe two or three minutes before the Avengers descended on the room and there was no way she was going to survive a battle between them and Loki. If nothing else he'd probably throw her out a window; just as a little distraction. And she still didn't have this stupid form signed. For a man who desperately wanted to be an Avenger, Stark was sure good at avoiding filling out all his paperwork. One more stupid signature and she would have been done with this Sisyphean task.
So, nothing to do; but she had to do something…anything. She really didn't want to die in this ugly, cheap suit. Asshole was always wrecking her good life: first he messed up her sweet internship deal with the scatterbrained scientist, then he wrecked Puente Antigo and got her shipped off to New York where she was invited (invited, my ass) to join S.H.I.E.L.D., and now she was going to die here, in Stark Tower, wearing an ugly black government issued suit. It was so not fair. She shifted again, frustrated, and the god ignored her; obviously he had written her off as any kind of a threat.
Well, that could be useful.
Moving casually, not trying to be secretive as that was always glaringly obvious, she turned to her handbag, which was drooping listlessly on the wet bar, set down her clipboard, and began rummaging about
"What are you doing, mortal?" Darcy looked up to see him regarding her sharply.
She pulled a pen out and held it up for him to see "Signing this stupid form for Stark. If he's dead it might make a difference if he was an Avenger or not."
"Should you be doing that?"
Darcy shot him a disbelieving look "What? Are you going to tell?" She flipped through the papers on her clipboard, examining the signatures for a moment, then went back to the top one, and with a flourish, signed Stark's name.
"I could care less what you do, girl."
"Oh, good. Then you won't mind if I…" Darcy pointed past him to the empty glass on the desk.
Loki gave her a bland look, and then went back to his work, his eyes focusing on Stark's wokstation as it flickered madly through screens of data and schematics. Darcy decided to interpret that as unconcern and slid behind him, carefully keeping a slim distance between her and the slender figure. She casually shifted the clipboard in her arms, grabbed the tumbler, turned, and shot Loki with the taser she had concealed underneath.
The god stiffened, a brief cry breaking through his lips, and collapsed. His forehead impacted the desk on the way to the floor with a solid thud. Darcy stood frozen for a second then stepped back, dropping the clipboard, glass, and taser. Just as she turned to flee, the office exploded.
Darcy crouched down, arms wrapped over her head as debris rained down around her. There was a brief moment of silence that extended outward and Darcy peeked up to see the Captain and Black Widow surveying the room. The hulk had continued onwards and was busily savaging the couch. She stood cautiously, making no sudden moves.
"Where's Loki?" rapped Captain America.
Darcy simply pointed down at the God of Mischief, out cold at her feet.
"Lady Darcy," roared Thor as he and Tony landed amid the wreckage of the room. "you have tased my brother!"
And the world went dark.