A/N: So I told myself that I was going to start a fanfic before the Avengers comes out and I did and I'm so proud of myself. This is my first fanfic, I hope I did ok. Sorry if there are some spelling errors that's all me I don't have a beta yet so! Working on the next chapter and another fanfic in the works!

Disclaimer: If I owned Thor I would so own Marvel and Kat Dennings would be in The Avengers, but she is not so I cry myself to sleep and read Loki/Darcy fanfics to help with the depression. LET'S TALK ABOUT MERRDER! YAYYYYY!

Ghosts

Darcy ever so slightly opened her eyes to adjust to the morning light. "Fuck" she whispered. The pounding of her head caused her to curl in on herself, wincing at every shot of pain convulsing through her head. (A hang-over, that's some bull-shit. Motherfucking Darcy Lewis does not get hang-overs! Pssh, it's not like I'm an alcoholic, maybe I have potential of being an alcoholic, but there's a difference between potential and official.) She frowned. (That's right I tried to drink away my problems. What a great plan, dragging Jane out clubbing, getting some weird-ass mother fucker with a porn star mustache to buy our drinks.) It's slowly began to come back to her. She was broke, unemployed, student loans to be paid, and about to be evicted from her apartment. (Maybe I am an alcoholic! Hmm…?)

(Wait! What?) She thought. (This is not my bed, its way to comfortable to be my bed!) Slowly she peered through her mascara clumped eyelashes. A man sat hunched over the edge of the bed. Darcy began to internally panic. (Holy shit, did I just have a one-night-stand with...?) The man did not move at all from where he sat. In the way he was hunched over himself hands clutching the back of his neck, something was disturbing about him. To Darcy it felt like hours before the man finally made a move, her heart jumped when he did. She forced herself to stay still as humanly possible.

He felt numb, stiff. He hoped the woman would wake soon; he felt sick and disturbed knowing she was there, absolute regret. He brought his hands to his face and rubbed the skin under his eyes and smoothed out his raven hair. He looked over at his night stand, at the hollow imagery of the family portrait. He grabbed the picture frame and placed it on its face. He didn't want them to see him...not like this.

Darcy watched as the man moved some thing around on the night stand. She couldn't see what it was; the 'damn' pillow was in the way. As soon as his hand left the object he turned to look at her. (Holy shit he sees me.) Her eyes grew wide. The man was gorgeous, (fucking awesome jaw line, thin lips, and the most amazing green eyes; they were thoughtful, sad, almost lost.)

The man looked upset almost mad. He got up from his place on the bed, grabbed his boxers and quickly walked out of the room. Darcy could hear some things being moving around, and the faint rustling of paper. She sat up in the bed and quickly tried to figure a way out. Before she could figure out that the window was not the best option (probably on the 20th floor of a huge-ass expensive as shit pint house, probably would not be a fun seen seeing a butt naked woman face down on the rich people sidewalk.* Classic case of girl on the ground*), the man walked back in to the room with something in his hand. "You never told me what your price was so hears $3,000 that should be enough." He tossed a wad of cash to Darcy. (HOLY-FUCK-BALLS!) Surprisingly she caught it. "You should leave soon, I'm meeting a friend for breakfast" he glanced over to the digital clock on the night stand "damn I'm late! Shit she's going to call!" He franticly moved about the room gathering his clothes.

Darcy watched him with shock and death eyes (hooker?) just as fowl profanity riddled words built up on Darcy's lips a phone went off. "Damn!" the man grabbed his phone off the floor and spotted Darcy's black dress, quickly grabbed it and through it to Darcy "you really need to go!" He answered the phone and dashed towards the bathroom.

Darcy was boiling with anger, she was speechless. She looked at the wad of cash in her hand "$3,000…hooker? Who the fuck does he think he is?" (I mean there's nothing wrong with being a hooker, pssh, I mean $3,000 huh…but it's sheer as hell not my first career choice) Darcy stared even harder at the money "no!" she dropped it on to the sheets and quickly moved off the bed. She slipped in to her black dress from the previous night, popped on her high heels and grabbed her bag. The sound of running water came about from the bathroom. She quickly made her way to the front door but stopped, she turned around and walked wright back in to the bedroom, "I really need this money, it's just this one time it's not like I'm gone a start working on the streets, wright?" she took a deep breath "Ok, think about it first… pride or money" she chewed on her bottom lip. "Well I already hate myself so..." Darcy grabbed the cash and stuffed it into her bag, and hurried out of the apartment.

As Darcy rode the elevator down and stepped out into the loud morning streets of New York, she thought of the man that rocked her lady parts and who dropped her self-esteem down quite a few bars. She couldn't stop thinking about his eye; green, gorgeous, and lost "I regret nothing!"

I HAVE NOTHIN AGENST HOOKERS! Oops I left the caps lock on sorry!