Title: I Love Rocky Road
Author: E.A. Week
E-mail: E. at gmail dot com; also on LiveJournal as eaweek.
Summary: An alien invasion is thwarted by the mighty power of frozen dessert.
Category: Marvel Comics Universe Movies (Thor/ Thor 2/ Avengers)
Distribution: Feel free to link or rec this story anywhere, but please drop me at least a brief e-mail and let me know you've done this.
Feedback: Letters of comment are always welcome! Loved it? Hated it? Post a review; send me a PM or an email, and let me know why!
Disclaimer 1: Copyrights to all characters in this story belong to their respective creators, production companies, and studios. I'm just playing in their sandbox.
Disclaimer 2: The story title is shamelessly stolen from 'Weird Al' Yankovic, by way of Joan Jett and the Blackhearts.
Disclaimer 3: This story is rated T (suggestions of violence and sexual activity).
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Darcy quavered. Her gaze flicked in quick, nervous hummingbird darts around the large kitchen. The area had been completely trashed: pots and pans and utensils everywhere, china broken, food splattered about, drying or congealing, and already beginning to smell, which Darcy tried to ignore. Harder to ignore were the bodies—she could see two of them—bloodstains drying on their white cooks' uniforms. One of the men appeared to be holding a butcher knife. Darcy averted her gaze before she saw more than she wanted.
From far overhead came the muffled thumps of military helicopters, and from elsewhere in the hotel, the shouts of rough, mostly male voices—police, army personnel, National Guardsmen, SHIELD operatives. They all knew better than to approach the kitchen, however. They would keep their distance, Darcy supposed, until Jane or Thor gave the all-clear.
"He has to be here somewhere," Jane responded, her gaze focused on the small computer in her hands. She stepped over the detritus on the floor in her high-heeled boots, oblivious to the chaos, the smell, even the corpses. "These readings indicate a non-terrestrial life form." Glancing back at Thor, she added, "Another one besides you, obviously. But the readings are a little… fuzzy, like something's shielding it."
"But… you said he can make himself look like other people… or even turn invisible," Darcy said. She kept whipping around to look over her shoulder. "He could be right behind us."
"No, the energy signature would be more clear." If the idea of proximity to an angry, homicidal demi-god gave Jane any kind of pause, she didn't show it.
Thor was examining the damage and the two bodies with a curious expression—a kind of compassionate dispassion. If that makes any sense, Darcy thought.
"If I wanted stuff that makes sense, I wouldn't be hanging out with you two," she mumbled, half to herself.
Thor straightened up, tightening his grip on Mjolnir. "These men tried to defend themselves against the Veles using only primitive blades. They were courageous, but foolhardy."
"Kitchen knives against aliens?" said Darcy. "Maybe not the best idea."
Jane sidestepped a large puddle of something that looked—and smelled—like two-day-old fish chowder. "Yeah, well, you ignore an evacuation order…" Jane didn't show much sympathy for the dead cooks. Her gaze was focused straight ahead, at a large steel door. Keeping her voice very quiet, she said, "I think he's in there."
"The freezer?" said Darcy.
"It's as good a place to hide as any," Jane shrugged. "And it would explain the shielding." She glanced back at Thor. "You're up," she said. "This is a little beyond my pay grade."
"Mine, too," said Darcy. "Except I don't actually get paid. And I bet we totally blew that grant deadline because of this whole invasion thing—"
"Darcy!" Jane hissed. "Priorities!"
"Stand behind me," the Asgardian commanded, stepping forward. "Both of you."
"No arguments on that one," Darcy said, and the two women hastened behind his vast frame.
Thor slowly depressed the large handle, and with a soft, chilly swoosh, the freezer door opened a couple of inches. Darcy peered around one edge of Thor's red cloak, but he was blocking most of her view.
"Loki," said Thor, "I know you're in there—!" He seemed about to say more, but broke off, and a moment later mumbled, "I do not understand."
Jane, bolder than Darcy—or maybe more reckless—craned her head while keeping her body behind Thor's shoulder. "Oh, my God!" she said. "Is he dead?"
"This may be some trickery of his," Thor cautioned. The two women hung back while he stepped into the walk-in freezer, the giant hammer poised to swing at any moment, his gaze making a quick reconnaissance of the frigid compartment. With the toe of one boot he nudged the motionless, supine figure. "It is him. I thought this must be one of his illusions…" Thor scooted down for a closer look, his right hand still clenching Mjolnir.
Jane was tapping her hand-held computer, ever the scientist, taking readings, and regarding the man on the floor with clinical interest.
"His body temperature is close to zero Celsius," she said. "I'm barely registering a heartbeat, and his breathing's practically nil." She asked Thor, "Is that why he's so blue?"
"This is… this is…" Thor's brow furrowed as he groped for an explanation the human women would understand. "Loki is a Frost Giant. I suspect his true nature has become more apparent in the intense cold of this box. But I do not understand these… odd parchments."
Darcy by now had mustered enough courage to inch closer. When Thor had said Giant, she had expected a huge and formidable being, but Loki was as thin as a peppermint stick. He wore armor similar in design to Thor's, though green instead of red. His hair, a wild tangle of black curls, fanned out around his head. His eyes were closed, and there were tiny white specks of frost on his lashes and brows. The most striking thing about him was the rich, cobalt blue of his skin. His lips and fingers were almost purple. Some white and brown substance smeared his cheeks and chin. "Is he dead?"
"Not dead," said Jane. "Unconscious. Actually, I'd say he's in a state of torpor. It's more like hibernation than sleep."
"Oh," said Darcy, the one syllable rising up on a high-pitched shrill. She cleared her throat and tried to find her normal speaking voice. "Well, that's nice. It means he won't kill us, right? I mean, look at his face. He's almost smiling."
Jane leaned down and picked up a scary-looking metallic object. Darcy had seen some of the other aliens (—creatures? —things? —monsters? She wasn't sure exactly what to call bearded, horned lizards from space) bearing similar armaments. This rifle was bigger and more elaborate, though, and coated now with a delicate layer of frost. How long had Loki been in the freezer? Eight hours? Twelve?
"We should get rid of this," said Jane, handing the weapon to Darcy, who held onto it by a handle-y looking aperture that she hoped would not cause the gun to discharge or otherwise explode. "He must've holed up in here when the battle went south for him." She snorted. "Coward. His lizard-men were losing, so he ran and hid."
"Why didn't he just… take off, or something?" Darcy asked. "You know, to someplace that's not Earth?"
"Maybe he got distracted," Jane suggested.
"By what?"
For the first time Darcy focused on the scraps of paper lying all about the bottom of the freezer. Some of the papers were white, some brightly colored and patterned. Loki appeared to be lying not only on them, but in them. The fingers of his right hand were curled around a pulpy mass, something cream-colored, soft, and lumpy. Both hands were covered with the same gooey-looking white-brown substance that was streaked on his face. Jane reached down and teased one of the scraps from the pile. The paper was white on one side, patterned on the reverse with something familiar-looking—a logo, Darcy realized, round-ish letters and a picture of… a cow?
Darcy looked around the freezer and saw that many of the metal shelves were empty—quite bare—while others held bundled, plastic-wrapped cardboard flats of pint-sized containers, all printed with that same happy-making logo.
Jane had been following her friend's gaze, and she let out a funny little gusty exhalation, a noise half-gasp, half-chuckle. As if they were reading each other's thoughts, Darcy burst into a trill of hysterical giggles. Jane's chuckle expanded into an open-throated wail of mirth, and the two nearly collapsed, almost weeping from a combination of uncontrollable laughter and giddy relief.
Thor by now was examining the scraps of paper, and he frowned up at the women.
"I do not recognize these names," he said. "Who are these men, 'Ben' and 'Jerry?' Are they human alchemists or sorcerers? And what is…?" His brow creased into deeper furrows. "What is a 'Coffee Caramel Buzz?'" Is it some substance that produces a euphoric state and then unconsciousness?"
By now Jane and Darcy were laughing so hard they couldn't breathe.
When Jane could form words, she managed, "It's ice cream—it's a kind of human… sweet food. It's made from frozen milk and sugar—and—and—" Whatever she'd planned to say next got lost in another gale of shrieking giggles.
"He locked himself in here and started eating the ice cream." Darcy had begun to hiccup. "He ate—he must've eaten like a hundred gallons. Until he passed out."
"I always knew ice cream had the power to save the world," Jane grinned. She hunkered down and tapped Loki's slightly distended abdomen. "Actually, he does look a little less scrawny than usual."
"Okay." Darcy shifted the large alien gun with great care. The cold metal was beginning to make her hands go numb. "Uh, so what do we do now… like, before he wakes up?"
"Return him to Asgard," said Thor. "After he sleeps off this stupor, he will face the Allfather's justice." With a heavy sigh, he added, "Again."
"Aw, c'mon," Darcy said, surprised to feel a certain amount of distress for the devious trickster. She watched as Thor lifted his brother and slung the inert blue body over one massive shoulder. "He can't be all that bad."
"Darcy, this is the second time he's tried to attack Earth with an army of aliens," Jane said. "Okay, the thing with the Ben & Jerry's is kind of endearing, I'll give you that, but still."
"He was ruling Asgard in disguise as Odin," Thor said. "That is a very grave crime."
Darcy tugged on Thor's cloak as they maneuvered back out into the kitchen. "Don't be too hard on him, okay? You know, he's actually kind of cute from the right angle."
"Darcy," Jane hissed, giving her friend a none-too-gentle whack on the arm.
"Ow," Darcy complained. "You hit hard."
Thor promised Jane, "I will return."
"You damn well better," she growled, her brown eyes devouring him with a smoldering look that could have melted all the ice cream in Manhattan. Growing plaintive, she said, "I even got us tickets to see the Nutcracker."
Thor blinked. "You would watch someone crack nuts? I do not under—"
Loki moaned and stirred slightly.
"Yikes," said Darcy. "Somebody's waking up. Uh, looks like you two better run… or fly… or whatever."
"Step away," Thor cautioned. The women complied with alacrity. "Heimdall!" Thor called out. "When you're ready." A moment later, a flash of light almost blinded Jane and Darcy, and the Asgardians vanished in a whirling, rainbow-hued vortex.
(ii)
"So, now what?" asked Darcy.
"Cherry Garcia?" Jane suggested. "Coffee Heath Bar Crunch?"
Phil Coulson from SHIELD had shown up to retrieve the alien weapon. ("Look at you," Darcy had remarked. "I thought you were all dead and stuff.") The black-suited agents and military commandos had taken off, the bodies had been removed from the kitchen, and now the two women had the hotel's lower level more or less to themselves. They meandered back in the direction of the kitchen, where the door to the walk-in freezer still stood ajar.
Darcy asked, "Will we get busted for stealing ice cream? Cos technically, we would be. Or is it looting? Ohmigod, that is so completely looting."
"It's just going to get tossed anyway," said Jane. "They'll probably throw away all the food before they repair the kitchen. I'll bet there's something in the sanitation code. Though maybe not about alien invasions."
"You know, I'm kinda hungry," Darcy said. "Maybe a little horny, too. Is that weird?"
"We haven't eaten since yesterday," Jane told her. "Adrenaline acts as an appetite suppressant. Though it does stimulate reproductive urges." With a smirk, she added, "Well, adrenaline and Thor."
"And Loki," Darcy added, feeling oddly loyal. After a beat, she asked, "So, we should totally help ourselves?"
"I'd say we've earned it."
They exchanged another wordless look, and with a squeal of anticipation, raced each other to the freezer.
The End