A/N - Just a little one-shot that popped into my head and begged for release. As it stands, I have material for another chapter, but I'm not sure that I want to post it. I am torn between leaving this at its angsty logical end, or pushing it further. So, when in doubt, ask for some opinions. The feedback would be greatly appreciated!

Disclaimer - I do not own any of the characters portrayed in this story. They are the property of Marvel Studios.

Murky and unsettled, glimpses of the passing cityscape through the dirty bus' windowpane were like a reflection of her own conflicted, jumbled feelings. Space and time, she repeated to herself, a pathetic mantra she was using to try and convince herself that she had made the right choice. It had been almost too easy, to creep away like the defeated coward that she was. No intricate planning on her part, just a simple excuse, a lunch errand that Darcy would not return from. Somehow, she knew if she had attempted something more intricate, he would have found it out. There was no pulling the wool over those piercing blue eyes.

Not that she intended to stay away forever, but things here, as they were right now, were just too much. Two years, and still New York was recovering in the wake of an invasion that had nearly destroyed the world. It was wonderful that the reconstruction effort was going well, and the recent addition of a remorseful and "redeemed" catalyst had even sped up the rebuild. Really, that had been a whole new problem—not for the planet, or even the citizens of the Empire State; but rather, a personal one, for her and her alone.

A complication. That was what he had referred to her as when his not-so-subtle not-so-brother had put his princely nose in business that really did not concern him. Surprisingly, she had not felt contempt or anger at the description. It was accurate, even if it was not flattering, and she was impressed that the truth could come from his lips. She had initially chosen to steer very much clear of the "gods" when they had returned to her planet bearing news of penance and peace offerings. Jane, however, had not, and so she had become somewhat begrudgingly stuck. Over time, being in their company had become less forced and more her choice, and though Thor swore that his brother's powers were limited, she really wanted to blame magical mind control for her lack of distance.

He was right, through and through. What they were doing, teetering along some dangerous edge, it was complicated, and beautiful, and terrifying. In her alone moments, she had often tried to reconcile what they were doing with what she was feeling, and it never made any sense. In a way, she could finally understand, could recognize the reason behind Jane's reluctance to refer to Thor as anything other than her "friend." A title made things too real, especially when you were dealing with supposedly mythical creatures. Aesir were magnetic, dynamic—they were kindred spirits of the stars that they fell from. You were pulled to them, in a slowly magnificent, careening orbit that ultimately led to your oblivion. But, Darcy, she knew. She saw herself drifting towards him haplessly, aware that he was dangerous. It was well past time to break free of his gravity.

Her eyes focused out of the window, realizing that the scenery was no longer moving. Startled, she looked to her right, and noticed that her fellow passengers were frozen—not iced over, but unmoving. Jumping to her feet, she cleared the empty seat, rushing towards the front of the bus. A flash of green moved in her periphery and she sighed. Nothing for Darcy was ever easy, and she did not know why she had thought her escape would be.

That voice, smooth and deadly, one that simultaneously made her stomach lurch and heart race, came from behind her. "You go to great lengths to eat."

"There are a lot of nice lunch spots in Queens."

"The place and its name are an ill-fit match."

The condescending sarcasm in his voice could not be missed, and she turned to look at him as he glanced disdainfully around the vehicle. His eyes finally rested on her, "What are you doing, Darcy?"

She refused to meet his gaze, her eyes focusing on the increasingly interesting advertisement behind him. "Taking the bus, obviously."

His lips pursed in a thin line. "The bus to where?"

"LaGuardia."

The sneer was prominent on his face and totally unexpected. Dismissal, mirth, laughter...she would have expected any and all of those. Anger? That was a surprise.

"You would leave without saying goodbye?" he growled.

He really was pissed, and she had no idea why he thought he had any right to be. It aggravated her, and she was going to make sure he knew it. "Last time I checked, a grown woman could come and go as she pleases."

"And what of Jane and Thor? Or do you wish to make them sick with worry?"

Appealing on her friend's behalf was both a low blow and a red herring, so she brushed it off quickly. "I would have gotten a hold of her eventually."

Now, he looked livid, his fingers digging into his palms as he spastically clenched his hands. "And you can think of no one else that would have suffered in your absence?"

There, he had said it. The worm-in-the-words, the bait that he sought to hook her with; but, she was not biting today. Cold, she let her voice fill with the ice in her heart, "No."

A lurch, both mechanical and cosmic, and she stumbled, her eyes closing in fear of the collision with the dirty floor. Suddenly, she was back in her seat, and when she looked out the window, they were pulling onto the airport roadway. Snapping her head, she rose slightly in the chair, looking around for any sign that the encounter had been real, but he was nowhere to be seen. Being in her thoughts was one thing, but now, it seemed she was having lucid hallucinations about the infuriating bastard. She really did need to get away.

The bus slowed to a stop, and people began getting up, milling towards the exit. She waited, still not quite believing she had managed a getaway, as the last passenger filed past her. She heard the bus driver cough as his eyes fell on her in the rear-view mirror, an action she recognized as the international motion for "hurry the hell up." She glanced over her shoulder briefly while scurrying down the aisle, practically throwing herself through the open bus door.

The moment her shoes hit the pavement, she knew it was wrong. So very wrong. Somehow, she was back in Manhattan, and she had the sneaking suspicion that the "how" involved one manipulative, malcontent Aesir. She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and hanging her head in frustration, as her ears barely registered the childish snicker above the din of the bustling city. To her left, the asshole leaned against a lightpost as he mocked her, passersby strolling right by him, magically oblivious to his overbearing presence.

She snapped, sheer irritation and fury fueling her forward to strike at him. Her hand longed to connect with his smug cheekbone, but it passed right through him. "Of course, you wouldn't bother to actually annoy me in person."

The air crackled with heat and mystic electricity, and she tried to run, thinking better of having opened her mouth, but her feet wouldn't budge. It seemed that hundreds of lanky, dark-haired spectres appeared from all directions, converging into one in a spot directly in front of her. Why had she taunted him?

He looked at her from head to toe, fondling her with icy eyes in a way that made her burn and blush in the same instant. He brushed his fingers along her cheek, as she stood paralyzed by magic and lust, tinged with fear. "Sending out my projections was the quickest way to search for a misplaced possession, and I found her quite easily."

Her lips moved at least. "I am not yours."

He hesitated for just a moment, before commanding her. "Then take your pathetic life and walk away, but you need not run from New York. I will not have Thor blaming me for your disappearance. You will never have to see me again."

Maybe it was the sound of defeat in his voice when he spoke, or the sigh that seemed to escape with the words, but they made her pause, even as she felt her feet begin to respond. "This wasn't what I wanted, Loki."

His eyes met hers then, and somehow she managed to hold his gaze without turning away. "What did you want, Darcy?"

She started to speak, but he cut her off, running his fingers along her forearm. "There was no other way but for this to meet its inevitable end. There were only two eventual outcomes: the tardy arrival of your self-preservation instincts or my boredom with a mortal dalliance."

There was the truth again, and for once, she did not like it. She seethed in disgust, speaking through gritted teeth. "Right. Stupid or unworthy, either way."

The smile, full and almost believably genuine, arranged itself on his handsome face, and she could feel herself crumbling. "The truth is often more brutal than hundreds of falsehoods. Would you prefer for me to lie to you?"

She shook her head, pleading silently for him to cease. But, he continued, his voice growing harsh, "I could deceive you; your kind believe so easily. Weave you stories of how I would carry you to Asgard and make you my wife. Pluck down for you one of Idun's apples, and let you chew upon immortality. That I would devour your body every night and give you many children. How I would worship you as a goddess and fill your days with happiness and love."

She gasped as his breath tickled her temple, his arms circling her waist, constricting slowly like the snake he was. Seductively, he purred, "But, you deserve honesty, my dearest Darcy. And all that I had ever wanted from you...I have already gotten."

Tears, that she had banished and swore she would never shed for him again, ran down her cheeks in defiance of her own wishes. Now, she was ready to go. She put her hands behind her on his wrists, pulling him off of her waist. He looked at their connection impassively, as if he understood. She stepped back, narrowing her eyes and lifting her chin, "Then, there is no need for this to continue. I am done."

"You are only done because I allow it to be so."

"No. It ends on my terms. I refuse to give so much, and get nothing in return."

"So, there has been no enjoyment on your part?"

He sounded incredulous, and the blood that rushed to her cheeks exposed her in a way that she could not recover from. "Sexual satisfaction is great but it is not enough...not once..." she swallowed, choosing her words carefully, "Not now."

"But it is all I can give you, Darcy. No more and no less."

His face crumpled then, his eyes turning downward. "Only a true monster would speak otherwise, and even I cannot bring myself to tell that particular lie."

Her lip trembled and she felt her resolve diminish. These were the times when she hated herself, loathed the part of her that collected and coveted wounded things. She had not come such a long way from the little girl who brought home limping dogs and birds with broken wings. Some things never changed.

"I know," she whispered, and her arm crossed the space between them, her hand resting on his face. "And there have been times when I wished I could settle for what you are offering."

His eyes were wide, startled by her admission. His fingers found her elbow, ghosting up her arm to caress her hand as it laid on his cheek. "Never settle, Darcy. For anyone."

She nodded as her voice cracked. "Goodbye, Loki."

"Goodbye, Darcy."

She pulled away, walking instinctively towards her apartment, her eyes blinded with fat tears that rolled down her face. She did not have the strength or the nerve to look over her shoulder to see if he was behind her still. In all things, behind her was where he belonged.