This was originally intended to be an AU oneshot, but it just kept going, and when TaserTricks fanfiction calls, you answer! Anyway, I don't know how many chapters this will have, two or three at the very least I guess, but if you guys like it and I get good feedback, I'd be more than happy to keep going! So read, enjoy, and let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I don't own Thor, Loki or Darcy. Which sucks really, because they're all such wonderful people in their own way. Want.

My Favourite Kind Of Stalker

Darcy assured herself that he was not being creepy. Maybe a little weird, but not creepy. Darcy also assured herself that what she was doing was not considered stalking. Not really. Well... Maybe in some cultures. Probably most.

The college student had been coming to the same coffee shop every day at the same time for two weeks straight. Not because the coffee was good, (she'd certainly tasted better), or because the chairs were comfortable, (they really weren't). No, Darcy came because he was here.

She had spotted him two weeks ago, on her first dismal visit to the little shop. He was sat there, by himself, in a cushiony little nook, a sketch pad on the table, warm beverage in hand. His long, black hair was falling forward, and he had dark pencil smudges on his face, but Darcy was instantly taken wih him.

After that initial sighting, she had declared it her own personal mission of sorts to find out his name, and, at the very least, see if his voice was as pretty as the rest of him. And thus began her little stalking episodes.

"Okay," she said to herself, the people near enough to hear her glancing at her in confusion. "This is it, Darcy. You can do this. Right. I can do this. I can talk to this beautiful specimen of man!" Darcy stood up only to land right back in her chair, as said "beautiful specimen" glanced in her direction. He was wearing a darker shade of green than usual today, she noticed. "Okay. That looked stupid. But you've got this!" Darcy stood from her seat once again, (a little too quickly perhaps, as the chair clattered to the floor behind her), flipping her hair over her shoulder as she strode towards him in what she hoped was a confident manner.

"Hi, is this seat taken?" she asked. The man looked at her briefly, a sparkle in his emerald eyes, before turning to the next page in his sketchbook.

"No, go ahead." Goal one accomplished. His voice was definitely as pretty as the rest of him. And very British.

"Great, seat's not taken. Are you?" Darcy quickly clamped her mouth shut, grinning sheepishly at the man. "Oh, um, yeah, so that was like totally forward an improper or whatever. Sorry. Word-vomit, y'know? Yeah. I just thought, uh, y'know. I mean, you're drawing, and your drawings are pretty and you're not bad yourself." The man raised an elegant eyebrow at her as she babbled on. "Yep, clearly this was a bad idea. Yeah, I'm just gonna take my coffee and like, leave, or whatever. Yeah, sorry." Darcy all but scurried off, scolding herself as she went. Jane was going to love hearing about this latest mishap.

Loki was being stalked. He was sure of it. It had been three weeks since he'd moved there from England, hoping to be closer to his brother, and two weeks since the stalking had begun. It wasn't so odd at first. The pretty brunette girl had come into his coffee shop of choice and she had flashed him a grin. He hadn't thought much of it; with pencil and charcoals all over his face, strangers grinning at him was a common occurrence. But stalking him afterwards? Not exactly the expected reaction.

She had sat in he same seat every day and stared at him until he was finished drawing. One time, he swore he saw her pay a guy to get out of her seat. That had been a particularly weird one.

Still, despite her creepy tendencies, Loki found himself intrigued. He wanted to know her name, to hear if she spoke with one of those stereotypical American accents. Then, finally, just as he was about to get up and speak to her, she came to him.

"Is this seat taken?" An accent she certainly had. Loki decided he was rather partial to it, coming from her at least. She was beaming at him, pushing her thick framed glasses back with a forefinger.

"No, go ahead," Loki answered.

"Great, seat's not taken. Are you?" Loki was notorious for his silver tongue, everyone always said it, but in that moment, he swore it had turned to lead. This girl was crazy and he loved it. And just as he raised a refined brow, gathering his extensive vocabulary, she was gone, as quick as she'd arrived, before he could even summon the breath to protest.

"Blast," he muttered, gathering up his art supplies in a hurry. The sketch pad that he usually took such pride in was unceremoniously shoved into his leather satchel as he rushed to catch up with his spontaneous almost-stalker.

Loki paused at the door of the coffee shop, eyes searching the crowded street. Had he lost her already? No. There she was. Loki grinned. His own personal brand of stalker was just down the street, talking to a petite, dark-haired girl. Jane. Loki had been staying with his brother and his girlfriend long enough to recognise her, even from a distance. Loki mildly wondered if passersby could hear the cogs turning in his mind as a plan began to form. Perhaps he didn't need to rush after the girl at all.

To Be Continued...