I own nada. The madness on tumblr is fantastic about Lokane and Thor 2: The Dark World. Cheers, yeah?
It's late. In fact, it's so late that Darcy has even reminded Jane that it's late. The last time Darcy reminded her, it had been two-thirty in the morning. Now she's not completely sure what time it is, but she doesn't really care. What she's doing is so much more important thank keeping up with what time it is, though.
Jane is sitting on the hood of the van, with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Well, Darcy observes that she's not really sitting. She's more or less lying across the windshield with her head nearly hanging off the side of the hood. Her eyes are trained on the night sky. She's been lying-slash-sitting on the hood since ten, since all the stars came out.
Sometimes Darcy thinks that the stars are a pain in the ass now, more than something beautiful that awaits them in the freezing wilderness of Canada, even though it's only September. She's been freezing her ass off, and she's wondering how Jane hasn't died of being out in the cold for too long.
They're going back to nice, warm - well, wherever the hell they were going to once Jane was done staring up at the stars through sad eyes.
Darcy doesn't like the fact that Jane had been coming up here for almost three years now, every year - at the same time each year. Darcy doesn't think the asshat with the black hair and honey-smooth voice that seemed to hypnotize everyone who heard it - except Jane and her, of course.
For some reason, though, after Loki had left, Jane hadn't been the same. She was just a little bit quieter than normal - and for that, Darcy wanted to taser him instead of his baboon of a brother. She remembers clearly when the two Asgardian superfreaks had landed themselves on Earth. She remembers that she tased that guy Thor.
And for some reason, the non-trickster, non-asshat, and honorable of the two brothers hadn't caught her eye.
The trickster had.
The asshat had.
The untrustworthy one had.
Darcy had almost tased him for smirking at Jane before Thor had taken him back to Asgard, because apparently he'd done some bad things way back home, and she remembers seeing the way Jane pretended not to look at the god of mischief (the guy probably still needs his ego deflated to about the size of a walnut, but she's not going to think about that right now) seconds before they'd been zapped away to Asgard. Or wherever it is that bad gods of mischief go after doing something they shouldn't have.
And Darcy remembers, glancing over her shoulder, up from her work, to see that Jane hadn't moved since she'd last checked, what Loki had murmured to her, when he'd thought no one had been listening.
Darcy had been listening. Jane had definitely been listening, too.
And ever since then, the yearly routine was that Jane found an open spot, away from civilization, and looked up at the stars and waited for a crater to suddenly form out of nowhere nearby.
After all, he'd told her that he'd come back. And Jane had believed him, and Darcy knew why.
Darcy doubts that they will ever see him one exact same day that he'd left, because she suspects (or at least, she hopes) that he's locked up somewhere for her own good - and everything and everyone else's good.
But, for Jane, she hopes he makes an appearance. Even if it's only for a couple of minutes, it would light up Jane's world to see that asshat. Jane would light up brighter than a Christmas tree.
Darcy hadn't seen Jane light up like a Christmas tree in a long time.
The trickster dude better keep his word. Or I'll tase him. When I see him. If that ever happens.
Darcy sighs.
It's past four in the morning, and he hasn't shown. And Jane has rolled over on her side now, and is curled up into a ball.
I'm so gonna tase him when I see him again.
He deserves it for making Jane so miserable.
Darcy yawns, and glares down at her work.
It's past the day. She knows he's not going to show, but, she thinks bitterly, there's always next year.
Darcy twists her body around, planning to go through the driver's door to tell Jane that they're leaving.
But there's a nagging thought, as she decides to slam on the horn. The squeak Jane makes doesn't make Darcy grin as it would have on any other day, and she yells through the window, "We're going back to America! The Canadians didn't give me enough cocoa to last any longer."
Jane grumbles something back, but Darcy's mind was already somewhere else.
He hasn't shown up yet. He should have. I don't care if he's a god of mischief or not.
The bastard Loki promised, though.
Loki promised Jane he'd come back. Again. Yesterday. But she's going to be waiting again.
Darcy's jaw clenched as she moved over as Jane slid into the driver's seat and started the van, yawning - letting her know that she needed caffeine, as of immediately. She was so going to tase the asshat when she saw him again, because he was making her wait, and wait, and wait.
Always waiting, huh?
