It was only after a serious steam session, a thorough scrubbing of her curls, and a few moments of inspecting her stubbly knees from an inch away and wishing she had thought to bring a razor that she turned the shower off.

And heard a distinct thumping that was not a part of the bass line of Portishead.

Adrenaline kicked in. Darcy grabbed her glasses, wrapped her hair in a turban and shoved her still damp t-shirt and jeans on, sans bra or undies. Her glasses were fogged so her approach toward the door, where the now furious thuds were becoming more rapid, was slow. She hit the pause button on her music, which made the pounding stop for a moment before it resumed at a harder pace. The whole cabin seemed to shake, and Darcy dug in her bag for the only thing she could think of: mama's little helper.

Otherwise known as her taser.

A string of profanities that followed the latest volley of pounding made her blush and clutch her taser tighter. Shivering ridiculously as the cool air in the main room made her damp clothes even more uncomfortable, Darcy tentatively approached the door.

"THOR! I know you're in there! OPEN UP!"

Always go for the cheap surprise, Darcy sternly told herself, and yanked the door open abruptly.

She caught the man with his hand raised in the air, about to launch into another volley. Steam was coming out in clouds from his mouth and nose, and if the angry look on his face could materialize itself, steam would be coming out his ears as well. Jane told her she may expect him but Darcy still thought he was most unexpected. The initial fury on his face made him seem like a predator but her sudden appearance dissolved the pale hardness into the surprise of a young boy. Snow clung to his wool cap that spiky strands of long black hair poked out from under. His dark green parka made him impressively broad. His towering height came from legs that went on forever in well-worn denim, and Darcy would lay five to one odds that half the pounding came from kicks from his mountain boots on the door. So...stranger had a temper problem.

"Lay off, wouldya?" she gasped as the freezing air outside hit her, making the cabin seem like a sauna. Her teeth chattered, her hair was a thick lump of rapidly forming ice on the top of her head, and her toes were going to turn blue if this guy did not immediately turn around and leave.

The surprise was leaking out of his face and his composure was regained. He raked his jade-colored eyes from the top of her turban to her cherry-colored toes. It lingered long enough around the twins to make Darcy both blush and scowl as she remembered she was without underthings, and in a damp t-shirt. In the cold. He lowered his arm slowly and cocked his head to the side. The sincerity of surprise was replaced fully with shrewd calculation. He glanced back at the massive 4x4 he had driven, and turned his face up to observe the heavily falling snow.

She crossed one arm over her chest, blocking him from entering and keeping the taser out of sight.

"So," he said, his accent so posh she could almost feel it against her skin, "You must be Jane." He finally turned back to her and this time there was a leer on his face. "The latest conquest."

Oh fuck. Right. She was supposed to be Jane. Which meant this long, tall, drink of British water must be-

"You must be Loki."

Score one for Darcy/Jane! The look of shock on his face was double from her initial door scare. Oooo, and now those elegant eyebrows that had gone up were now coming back down in his own scowl. So he was expecting Jane...and someone named...Thor...weird...but he was definitely not expecting that he would be called out.

For how big a tantrum he had thrown, he was disturbingly formal. "May I come in?"

"No." Darcy shifted her hip against the door, recalling every trick in the diplomatic book about body language to shut this dude down and send him away. He looked...slick. And sharp. And dangerous. That, with the accent, was not a good combo for Darcy and she was not Darcy, she was Jane now. So...let the games begin. First goal: see how far she could go without actually telling a lie.

"I need to speak with Thor."

"Thor's not here." Not a lie.

Loki threw her a look that called her stupid without moving his lips. "I need to speak with him."

"I'm telling you, he's not here." Still not a lie.

"Jane-"

"Loki-" she intoned, trying to be both mature and firm while her hair dripped down her back and her teeth chattered.

"Please?" His face was lowered but his eyes were raised to meet hers; it was halfway between puppy dog eyes and the cat who shit out a canary two hours after the bird cage was found empty. This guy was good and he knew it. So very not good.

"No. Go away." She started to close the door and that's when his composure broke.

"I don't have time for this," he muttered. All six and almost a half feet of rage pushed past her into the cabin. Darcy stumbled back, watching him in amazement as he strode the length of the cabin, throwing doors open and calling the name 'Thor'. He stalked past her a couple of times, deliberately ignoring her. Well screw that!

On his next pace around the room, she stomped directly in front of him. "Hey!"

"Where's Thor?" he demanded, his accent distorted in frustration. Darcy backed away from him on instinct. Only a minute with him and she saw him be two different people: the diplomat and the spoiled brat. The latter was scaring her with his temper.

"I don't know."

"Will he be back?"

"I don't know!"

"Liar-" he hissed, and grabbed her free wrist.

Okay, enough was enough. Darcy jerked herself free and whipped her other hand from behind her back, the one holding the taser. "I said go away! She drew herself up to her full five and a half feet and pointed it at Loki.

The man actually had the temerity to laugh. "You can't be serious," he drawled, and took a step forward.

Darcy fired and two electrodes followed by night night juice hit him right in the chest. The man's spine went stiff, he did a quick jittery dance, and fell forward over the back of the couch, hitting his head on the end table in the process.

Darcy stood in the center of the room breathing heavily, shocked beyond belief no pun intended thank you very much. Every gasp in was followed by a 'whoa' muttered on exhalation. Finally her brain caught up with her itchy trigger finger and she scrambled around the couch.

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit."

She stood above him and gaped at what she had just done.

He lay face down, his body still giving tiny jerks and twinges every few moments. The wires connecting him to the taser were buried beneath him but leaving them on couldn't be that good, could it? What if he was bleeding? Maybe she should turn him so he could breathe better.

No Darcy No! Do NOT feel bad for the random dude that tried to break into the cabin while she showered. No! Bad girl!

That thought spurred her to action. Darcy grabbed her phone and her backpack and locked herself in the bedroom. She punched in Jane's phone number at the same time as digging through her clothes for some clean unmentionables and something warmer to wear.

Un-fucking-believable. It was ringing through to voicemail.

"Hi you've reached Dr. Foster. Please leave a message at the beep."

Beeeeeeeep.

"Hey Jane," Darcy drawled while trying to pull up her panties. "So yeah thing is...Loki showed up. Aaaaaand I may have killed him. I don't know. I definitely tased him, I know that much. So...any info on whether I need to call an ambulance...or the police...or a young priest and an old priest...would be really helpful." She dripped as much sarcasm as she could into that last bit. "Oh yeah, and call soon because, you know, approaching blizzard and everything." She paused. "God, where the fuck are you? What am I supposed to do now?"

Darcy hit End Call and stood forlornly for a moment in the chilly bedroom in her panties.

What was she supposed to do now?