Disclaimer: I clearly don't own any rights to anything, let alone Thor. Or Loki, for that matter. I only own a DVD of Thor. I don't even have a Loki action figure. Sad times.

A/N: This product was brought to you by a teenage girl who spends too much time fangirling and not enough time in the real world. Her preferred time to write is in the wee hours of the morning, loaded with sugar, while listening to music loudly. She hopes you like it.

A/N 2: The first chapter is kinda short; I needed to get the background and the apartment and everything in order, and set the scene a bit. Chapter 2 will be better. I think ^_^

All The Stars Were Falling, One Hit Me In The Head

Darcy hummed to herself as she walked out the bathroom, adjusting her eyes to the dark of the general living space. The apartment was small, but homey and comfortable: a lounge/eating area (containing several poofy chairs, a large wood coffee table and a tv up one end) was dubbed the "general living space" and was where you immediately were when you walked through the front door. To the right side of the apartment lay the kitchen, which was small but sufficed. Two doors were on the left of the general living space, with a final one at the back. The door on the left closest to the entrance was the bathroom, containing a basic toilet, sink and shower. The other door on the left belonged to Darcy's room-mate, Tom, who was very good company, very, very tidy, and very, very, very gay.
This left the back room as Darcy's. In stark contrast to the rest of the apartment, which Tom kept impeccably neat, Darcy's room was a war zone. Every surface was covered in either books or empty food and drink wrappers. The floor was littered with piles of clothes, for she did not own a wardrobe; a sacrifice made in favour of a double bed. Across the back and left walls was an extensive bookshelf, packed to exploding point with every genre of book imaginable. The room also contained a blue table that Darcy's computer sat on, and a cd player/sound system wired into, on, around and behind the bookshelf. And a black and white cat called Speck.
Darcy ruffled her hair absent-mindedly with a corner of her towel as she walked into her room. Fishing a baggy shirt and some trousers (that didn't match) out of the "night-wear" pile of clothes, she dressed quickly before plaiting her hair so as to keep it out of the way. Hair falling in front of her face while she was reading was not something Darcy was cool with.
She scanned her shelves for something she hadn't read yet, and settled on Wicked Lovely – something her friend Isabel had given her for her birthday that she hadn't got around to picking up yet.
Half an hour passed with Darcy snuggled up in bed reading, before the front door to the apartment opened and shut once more with and audible 'bang'.
Two months after Darcy started college, she became friends with Harry, when they were paired together for an assignment. He was sorta cute, and no one had shown any interest in her, romantically, up to that point. So she casually asked him if he'd like to join in on the next movie night. Darcy held these often – she'd ask her friends round her and Tom's place and they'd sit and chill and watch a film and have a laugh. He accepted. What she hadn't planned on (though she was neither surprised nor displeased) was how well Harry would get along with Tom. As usual, that evening the whole lot of them crashed out on the varying sofas and chairs. When Darcy got up the next morning the two had fallen asleep on the same sofa; Tom with his head resting against Harry's shoulder. Inwardly awwrh-ing, because it was sorta perfect, she subtly woke everyone up by noisily making teas and coffees.
Now, 6 months down the line, the pair were undeniably in love. Harry pretty much lived there, too, so it wasn't unusual to hear the laughter and the talking as they vanished into Tom's room, yelling the promise "We'll try to be quiet!". 15 minutes later, she could definitely fucking hear them. Or she could definitely hear them fucking. Both were true.
Sighing, Darcy pulled herself from her quilt. She might have one of the perviest brains since time began, but that didn't mean she could concentrate on a book while two guys had sex in the next room. She was used to it, too. Maybe not routinely, but this did happen a lot.
Pulling jeans and a hoodie over her pjs, Darcy scribbled a note that read "Gone reading, not that you'll miss me ^_~", left it on the lounge table, grabbed her bag and snuck out as quietly as possible. Her car was old and banged up and small and yellow, but she loved it. It also already contained several rolled up blankets and pillows.
Driving as fast as her car and the speed limit would allow, she isolated herself in the flats surrounding the tiny New Mexico village. It was her favourite place to go when she needed to escape and just think or read or… anything. As loud as she was, even Darcy needed quiet-time every so often.

It was 3:30am, and Darcy had long since fallen asleep, curled up in a blanket-nest, book rising and falling with her rhythmical breathing where it rested on her chest. She shivered in her sleep, rolled sideways and curled into a ball; book falling and snapping shut as she did so.
There was a quiet rumble, not enough to wake such a deep sleeper as Darcy was, but audible none the less. And then it grew louder. And then it grew a lot louder. Darcy shot up, hair crumpled from sleep and blowing in the sudden whirlwind.
"Hnnngh, what's going on? Where's the tornado?"
Talking to herself, brilliant, Darce. She didn't really think there was a tornado, of course, but her sleep-addled brain was too stunned to make sense. She look forwards, blinking sleep out of her eyes and…
"Now way… Hell no! Oh, shit, this has to happen to me, doesn't it?"
She'd totally, if unintentionally, been right with her words – tornado apparently was the order of the day. Darcy gathered her nest from the floor, shoving it unceremoniously into the back of her car. Her book fell from the bundle and, as she paused to pick it up, she hesitated for a second.
That tornado, it didn't quite look right. There'd been one a few months back a way outside of town. It calmed down pretty fast, and no damage had occurred, but it was all over the news and it didn't look like this one. Darcy was fairly sure that, in the grand scheme of things, tornados normally moved from a fixed spot, rapidly. And they didn't often have sparks and lightning issuing from them. And they definitely didn't make the sky glow blue. This was weird.
Then, it was gone. Just like that. It didn't even die down or anything. It just stopped. Poof. Vanished. Darcy was seriously freaked now.