So, here's part three of the story. Darcy is delving deeper in the the case, and it just keeps getting weirder.
Darcy slept fitfully that night and she attributed it to the excitement of her little adventure in criminality. It took two cups of coffee to clear the fog of her mind that morning and when she finally sat down to the puzzle of pictures, she had a consolation prize of a meager jolt of caffeinated awareness. Darcy picked at the images for a long time, turning them this was and that to create the full image of the wall. The order of victims was clear, but the connection still eluded her, which pissed her off more than it created confusion.
Scattered among the photos were candid shots of the victims, all in various positions, doing normal tasks, but all were taken in profile from the left of the subject. Usually the photos were from a long way away, and she assumed enlarged with a zoom of some kind. Some were very clear, as if taken with a high powered lens, and some looked blurred enough that they must have been taken with a disposable. All, however, were eerily poignant in that they were most likely taken in the last days of the victim's life.
Sighing, Darcy stirred her coffee absently, knowing it was right in front of her-staring at her and laughing at her struggle. After a moment, her frustration got the best of her and she turned from the photos, digging into her bag for the stolen book, which was buried under a heap of junk and her taser. A little bigger than the palm of her hand, the leather bound parcel open with ease. The front few pages indicated that this was someone's book of spells- though there was no name or return information. Darcy wasn't surprised as most of the spells required some sort of blood oath or sacrifice, and who wanted to be associated with that? Mouth dry, she read about calling an unnamed demon to do one's bidding. For a while, she could pretend that this was another of her boss' assignments. And then she got to the symbol.
The perpendicular lines, scrawled in dark ink, matched perfectly with the symbol carved into the victims' chests. Darcy had to swallow back bile as she came to the realization that she now knew how the victims had died-but not why, not yet. Below the symbol was a strange set of seemingly innocuous dots that, at first looked like splashed ink. Upon further examination, Darcy could see a pattern of whirls that looked distinctly ominous.
Setting the book aside, Darcy considered her options. She could give the book, notes, and her conjectures to the team and let them sort it out in their usual way—with guns blazing and not so subtle threats from the Captain. Or, she could continue working on the case and see it through to the end, even as it got more scary with every new discovery. Glancing up at the ever present science duo across the room, Darcy considered her choices and what those choices made her feel like. Even from her desk, she could see just how tired Tony looked, though he put on a happy go lucky face for Bruce's benefit—or perhaps his own, who knew? Still, it wasn't right to push this off on someone else, especially if she were capable of handling it herself. She was capable, too, capable enough to do a little legwork and prove that she had it in her to be something other than the sidekick who got in the way all the time.
Decision made, Darcy set back to work, scanning the open book and the pictures and racking her brain for some kind of epiphany. She didn't like being stumped, hadn't liked it in math class (when letters and numbers were suddenly allowed to intermingle) and she hadn't liked it in her personal life (when men suddenly were more interested in her breasts than her words.) It didn't make sense for her to have so many pieces of the puzzle and still not be able to see the answer. Picking up one of the candid pictures, Darcy stared at the man it depicted. He was simply sitting at a coffee shop in the outdoor café, cup poised at his lips while he read the paper. There was nothing particularly interesting about him, the setting, or his actions. It was all so…normal. She leaned in closer, staring at the very miniscule details of the photo.
Somewhere along the way, Darcy's eyes unfocused, and when they did, her brain almost melted. There, on the wrist of one of the victims, was the whirl of dots similar to (if not the same as) the whirl detailed in the book. Pulling the book to her, she compared the two, eyes flicking back and forth across the pages to double check her initial guess. She was right, though, it was the same. Sitting back, Darcy allowed herself to feel that little stab of victory at the break-through and, suddenly, she wished Loki were here. He would have been right there with her, smiling that secret smile of his as he urged her to continue looking.
Bruce stepped up to the side of her desk carefully, his feet shifting ever so slightly as he waited for her acknowledgment. "I got the report on that substance you brought back. Its sulfur."
"Sulfur," Darcy repeated thoughtfully, rolling the idea around. "Well, the books all say that sulfur is an indication of a demonic spirit."
His expression was indulgent, but slightly confused, "It could have gotten there any number of ways."
She shrugged, "I know, but it is kind of interesting, don't you think?"
"What's interesting is how SHEILD thinks this is any kind of priority," he shot back, his tone tense. "We can't chase ghosts and protect the world."
"That's why I'm chasing them, Brucie," Darcy replied with a smile, her words lacking any kind of bite, which was a fucking surprise to her. But, then again, Bruce seemed to instill in her a kind of strange need to protect. Again, she was surprise, because, out of the almost the whole team, he was the one who needed the least amount of protecting. "I'll leave all that saving the world stuff to the superheroes."
Looking apologetic, Bruce ducked his head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that what you're doing isn't valid."
Standing, Darcy touched his arm gently, "Hakuna Matata, dude. No worries."
It took the rest of the day, but Darcy was able to pinpoint the markings on all of the victims on the wall, cross-referencing—she was cross-referencing—her notes with the images. She kept a log of her ideas in a file that she connected to her phone, just in case she had any brilliant thoughts while out and about. Then, she powered down her computer and grabbed her bag, shoving the book inside for safekeeping. Waving to Tony and Bruce on the way out, Darcy power walked from the lab and towards the tunnels.
Tired as she was, Darcy couldn't hold back the lightness in her steps and the smile on her face. For the first time since before college, she actually felt like she was doing something that mattered, and that she wasn't screwing it up completely. Shouldering her bag higher on her arm, Darcy traversed the length of hallway to her room, pushing through the door. She set her bag by her bed, reaching inside for the book.
Palming it gently, Darcy flipped through the pages absently. She had already memorized most of the words, or at least knew where to find just about anything inside the worn text. Most of the information was familiar—after reading for as long as Tony asked her to, Darcy was pretty sure everything was going to sound familiar on the subject. Still, Darcy couldn't figure out the why of the situation, what was there to gain from taking all of these lives?
A knock sounded at her door, stirring her from her thoughts. Rising, she placed the book on her bedside table and answered it, somehow unsurprised and totally shocked at Loki standing casually in the hallway.
"Hey," she said, leaning against the jamb.
His smile hinted at something secret and deliciously sly. "We made the news," he said.
Darcy's eyebrows rose against her will, "Really?" Loki nodded. "Already?" He nodded again. "Must be a slow news day."
With a sleek jerk of his head, Loki indicated that she should follow him down the hall towards the living room. Darcy closed the door behind her, trying not to sneak a glimpse of his ass and failing utterly. Like everything else about him, it was shaped perfectly. She would bet her ipod you could bounce a quarter off it.
They settled into the pit 'o' cushions where the TV's DVR was paused. Even before Loki pressed play on the remote, Darcy could see the faint outline of their car parked in the back. Her only consolation was that the tag wouldn't be traced back to her specifically—but that didn't stop her from panicking on the inside. She hugged a pillow to her chest, biting her lip while she concentrated.
The images were from a surveillance camera outside the strip mall and it showed their vehicle pulling up the drive and swinging around the back. Then, the feed went wonky fading in and out so quickly that nothing except the barest outline of the building could be made clear. The video analysts were proclaiming some kind of electromagnetic interference, but Darcy knew better. She glanced at her partner in crime, her smile beginning soft and steadily growing in their shared amusement.
"Way to watch my back."
Loki shrugged, "It was a small bit of magic, nothing more."
Darcy tilted her head to the side, giving him a narrowed look, "You saved our asses from getting locked up in the pokey for an extended amount of time. It's a pretty big deal to me."
His brows furrowed above questioning eyes, "What is a pokey?"
At this, Darcy fell back laughing, her hair haloed around her as she half-lay on a large overstuffed pillow. She rolled to face him, reaching out into the empty space between them, her hand falling short.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she wheezed. "I just… I just thanked you for keeping me out of jail and all you got was 'pokey'."
Loki cleared his throat, "I am not used to others thanking me for using my magic."
"That's probably because you used it to create chaos around them," Darcy replied, "Anyways, its way cool that you can just wave your hand and the world does your bidding."
Again, he shrugged, seeming almost embarrassed that she would happen to praise him for manipulating the laws of physics to keep her from having to manufacture a shiv from a toothbrush. It boggled her mind that he could at one minute smile as if he owned the world and, in the next, fold over into himself like a schoolboy in front of a class. It was a good kind of boggle, though, like the kind you get in a museum when you realize the amount of work that happened to go into creating a sculpture from marble that could show the very folds of skin on a human being. Or an orgasm. Don't blush.
"So," she said, drawing her hand back to her body, "Can you teach me something?"
He looked down at her, his hands flexing on his knees, "Magic is not a toy. It took me many years to learn the basics before I could manifest it properly."
Darcy rolled her eyes, "I'm not asking you to teach me how to make doubles of myself." Just one of her was enough for the world, thank you very much. "Just how you did that door thing-so I can cover my ass for the next B&E."
While he still seemed hesitant, Darcy urged him on, saying that even David Blaine showed a few things to the audience. He didn't get the reference, but she saw him relent with a physical relaxing of his body.
"I cannot teach you how to manipulate the physical world, not yet, but I will show you the basics of harnessing the power." Darcy had to resist the urge to squeal with delight. She settled for sitting up, bouncing lightly in her seat. Loki arranged himself in front of her, pulling up the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows. Then, with the smoothest turn of his wrist, a small, blue ball of light appeared in his palm. It floated there gently, pulsing with power.
Intrigued, Darcy reached out to touch it, but was stopped short. Loki gripped her hand, fingers sliding along the back to turn it over, palm up. He held it steady for a moment, then carefully transferred the orb to her palm, both hands held nearby in case she dropped it. Holding the orb was…different. It tingled along her nerves, setting them on fire and cooling them at the same time. Even so, Darcy could feel that she was holding something alive in her hand, something that could, if she wanted, have its own free will.
Using both hands, Darcy cradled the little ball between them, glancing up at Loki. He was watching her carefully, arms caging hers—for, she guessed, her own protection. They sat for several minutes while Darcy acclimated herself to the tiny bit of magic. It remained in a pulsing orb form, curling into her palms closely as if learning the feel of her skin. She smiled as it tickled her, rubbing like a textured balm of malleable fluff.
"Now," Loki said lowly, "transfer it from hand to hand—careful, mind you, so that it will not drop."
Biting the inside of her cheek, Darcy turned the ball in her hands, jerking when it moved a little too quickly. Loki's hands were there, of course, guiding and protecting as the magic moved around in her palms. While unsteady, Darcy was able to move the magic from palm to palm once or twice, and she was pretty frickin' proud of that. She looked up at Loki, noticing that even though his concentration was on her hands, he looked pleased. It sent a strange, warm feeling zinging across her body.
The magic burst in her hands, flashing so brightly that Darcy had to squeeze her eyes shut and turn her head away from the blast. It shocked her, sending her into fits of giggles. When she was able to open her eyes again, Darcy caught Loki's smirk, which only made her laugh more.
"I think that's enough for today," Darcy said when she could breathe again. "I may accidently blast half the house apart."
Loki leaned back, folding his hands behind his head, "Probably for the best. Can't have you blown to bits." There seemed to be more to the thought, but he didn't seem inclined to share, so Darcy plopped down next to him with a released breath. They laid there for just a moment, then Loki lifted a hand and three small balls of light formed. Darcy watched them circle one another, her smile wide and her expression curious. He manipulated the magic to swirl outwards into a galaxy of tiny stars, spinning around a central orb. It was probably only a parlor trick for him, but it was the coolest she had ever seen anyone do—and she told him so.
His laughter, when it reached her ears, put a blush on her cheeks and sent her heart to pounding.
Darcy couldn't leave the case alone, spending day after day buried in her notes and requesting more and more books for her research. She had worn the spine of the little book of spells thin with millions of reads and she had read so many theories and ideas that everything seemed to run together into a cesspool of demonic happenings. It was started to wear on her, as her dreams were filled with images of her readings and her days were steeped in the paranormal. Darcy could recite the incantation used in the murders by heart and she could trace out the symbols for calling the demon while blindfolded.
When she had exhausted every piece of information and bribed every rare book collector in the country, Darcy was amazed to find herself staring face to face with a dead fucking end. Flinging her body back on her bed, she stared at the ceiling, flicking off the nonexistent entity who barred her path. She hated dead ends, hated them with the burning passion of a thousand suns. It was frustrating to feel so close to something and yet so completely far away that she would never reach the end of all this. And people were still dying. Fury pulled her into a meeting at least once a week to let her know where the new murders were and whether or not they had found a connection—they hadn't, save for the symbol and the modus operandi.
Knowing she wasn't going to get anything else done that day, Darcy slipped from her room and trudged down the hall. From the balcony of the staircase, she could hear Jane's sweet voice speaking on the phone—speaking was an operative term, she was pissed off and demanding to speak with a manager. As she hopped down the stairs, Darcy could see a plethora of wedding stuff spread out across a large table near the back of the room.
Spotting her, Jane smiled waving as she hung up the phone. Then, she really took a look at Darcy's appearance, "You look like shit."
"Gee, thanks. I feel so much better about myself now," Darcy shot back, slumping in one of the chairs.
Jane observed her quietly for a moment, "You look so pale. Have you been out of your room at all this week?"
"I went to work," Darcy replied.
"In an underground lab." Jane sighed, running a hand through her hair and glancing out the window. Then, she stood, "Suit up, we're going swimming."
Darcy's face scrunched in confusion, "What?"
Turning from her path towards the stairs, Jane shot her an uncompromising look, "That pool has been sitting there unused for a month. We're going to use it so you, my former assistant, can get some sun. I can't have you looking like death at my wedding."
"Well, if it's for the wedding," Darcy replied dryly. "Okay, I'll get my suit."
She had to pause when she got back to her room as something was not quite right. Her blinds, which she kept closed at all times due to the unfortunate location of her bedroom facing the rising sun, were open fully and the curtains were pulled back. With quick hands, Darcy closed the blinds and curtains, patting them for assurance. Then, she quickly changed into her bathing suit and grabbed a cover up and towel, flitting back down the stairs to join Jane by the pool.
Her former boss was lounging against the side of the pool, resting her head on her crossed arms. Darcy slipped into the water beside her and mirror Jane's position. They rested for a few minutes, but Darcy had never been one to let a silence go on for too long.
"How is the wedding plan going?"
Jane's smile was soft and sweet, "Well, Thor is certainly excited. We're having a small ceremony here, and then a big one on Asgard with his parents."
"Meeting the parents," Darcy said teasingly, "Bet that's nerve racking."
"Oh, my god, yes," Jane exclaimed, "I can't imagine what it will be like, but I figure Thor will walk me through it beforehand. He's already told me a few things."
Shrugging, Darcy dipped back and wet her hair, relishing the weight of it against her back. "Like what?"
Seeming a tiny bit hesitant, Jane answered slowly, "Because I'm human, there's the—you know—immortality issue. And, I'll be expected to come to Asgard with Thor at some point to rule. So, that will be a huge change."
"No way!" Darcy burst forth, her smile wide across her face. "What about the…human thing?
Jane's face contorted in a way that Darcy recognized as intense thought. She had seen it many times as Jane worked, mulling over one problem or another. "He says that we will take a blood oath at the ceremony, so that my being human won't matter. I don't know, Darcy, it seems a little too good to be true."
Darcy's expression was incredulous, "Are you kidding me? You're literally marrying a god, here, none of this should surprise you."
Jane laughed, "I know, it's just that all my dreams are coming true and…I keep waiting for the other foot to drop."
Rolling her eyes, Darcy replied, "If it does, I'll stomp on it with my stiletto heels."
Pushing off from the side of the pool, Darcy allowed herself to float freely on her back, the water sluicing around her body. Jane stayed near the wall, watching her with thoughtful eyes. The sky was clear that day, not a cloud in the sky, and the sun beat down on them despite the cooling waters. This was perfection for Darcy, relaxation in its prime—perfect.
"I wonder what Asgard is like," she mused aloud.
Jane bubbled up, shaking with the knowledge she was going to impart. "It's a golden city—Thor says, at least. He says there are mountains that frame the skyline, and the water is clean and clear all year long. From what I can gather, they run a lot like any other monarchy. The king, Thor and Loki's father, makes decisions for the realm with the help of a group of counselors."
Darcy hummed lightly, "Sounds like something out of history class." Not that she'd paid too much attention anyways.
"Something like that," Jane replied. "I don't know if they have jobs like we do, though. Thor says that they don't even have a currency."
"Barter system," Darcy laughed, "I like it."
"You would," Jane shot back tauntingly. "The market there is supposed to be amazing."
"Really?" Darcy said with interest, "I guess I'll have to make sure I bring something to barter with."
Jane smiled, pushing off from the edge of the pool towards Darcy, turning to float alongside her friend. "I'm glad you're going with me. It will keep me from thinking it's all a dream."
"That's me," Darcy said sardonically, "Firmly rooted in reality." Having had enough of the water, Darcy slid over to the ladder and stepped up, shaking the water from her limbs. She then padded over to a lawn chair to lie out in the heat of the sun, which always made her just the tiniest bit sleepy. Darcy closed her eyes, wiggling her toes as she delighted in the first feeling of rest she'd felt in a long time. For once, her thoughts weren't filled with symbols, murder, and mayhem.
Speaking of mayhem, there was a very distinctive laugh echoing in the air around her, closing in on her—closing in on her wearing a bathing suit. Eyes flying open, Darcy gauged the situation, wondering if she could get to her cover up before…well, shit. Loki and Thor came strolling through the glass doors of the patio, speaking animatedly about something she could not hear. Darcy, thinking quickly, laid back into the chair and closed her eyes again, forcing her body to relax with several deep, cleansing breaths. She pretended that she was invisible, sinking into the plastic of the chair until the sun melted her away, leaving nothing but Darcy-filled mist.
She should have known it wouldn't work. A shadow passed by her line of sight, settling just outside of her periphery. A small peek revealed Loki's profile across from her, relaxing in a similar position on the next chair. His eyes, like hers, were closed and the sun raced across him to pierce at her vision so that she had to squint.
"You know," she breathed, "If you stay out here too long, you're going to get wicked tan lines."
He smirked, his neck twisting so that he faced her, "I think I'll take my chances."
Darcy felt a little apprehension at her lack of attire, though she wasn't nearly as scantily clad as Jane, who was wearing a two piece string bikini. But, Jane had a body to die for with long thin legs and an ass that didn't jiggle when she walked. With the way in which she caught Loki's eyes traveling over her exposed skin, Darcy thought that maybe an ass that jiggled was appealing. Her breath caught under the heat of his eyes, so much so that she had to look away in order to be able to inhale again.
"So, how's work?" Fucking hell, she sounded like some kind of housewife, but she supposed anything was better than melting into a puddle of goo all over the patio.
Loki folded his hands across his stomach, "Good. After today's scenario run we should have worked out the problems with our previous mission."
"That's great," Darcy replied, "I can't imagine Fury was too happy about the report he got after that whole fiasco."
Chuckling, Loki said, "I wouldn't call it a fiasco. From my vantage point, it was rather amusing to watch Tony fly about haphazardly."
She huffed out a breathy chuckle, "I'm sure everyone was just rolling in the aisles while he blasted random objects across the White House."
"It is an acquired taste in humor, I grant you that," he relented finally, shrugging elegantly.
Darcy rolled her eyes, "Very acquired taste." Glancing off to the side, she spotted Jane and Thor resting near the edge of the pool, Thor's arm wrapped around Jane's middle as they lounged. It occurred to her that this was one of the few normal moments left for Jane. She was destined to run away to Asgard and be a queen. It sucked that Darcy would never get to see her, but she couldn't deny Jane that little bit of happiness she'd found—didn't mean that Darcy had to like the end of the friendship.
Turning her thoughts back to the positive, Darcy looked at Loki, who was observing her in silent contemplation. "What?"
"The color suits you."
She blinked, "What?"
"The color," he reiterated with a smirk, "of your…" he gestured to her bathing suit. "Purple suits you. I like it."
"Oh," Darcy said lamely. "Um, thank you." The blush over her cheeks filtered on down to her chest and across her ears until her skin felt on fire with something like embarrassment, but not quite. She watched with abject fascination as Loki's eyes followed the path of the expanding capillaries beneath her skin, the green startlingly dark as his pupils expanded. His expression only forced the blush deeper, which seemed to amuse him, the curve of his mouth twitching gently.
She wanted to hit him, wanted to reach out for one of those pillows in the 'love nest' and swat him with it. As it was, she only had her towel and her cover up down at the bottom of the chair, and she couldn't bring herself to move from her spot. Darcy was almost literally pinned beneath the expression of his thoughts, her skin warming with something that had nothing to do with the sun. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, but it filled her with adrenaline that raced through her bloodstream at a frantic pace.
From some kind of hidden speaker, Jarvis' voice broke through their…was it a moment? "Ms. Lewis, Mr. Stark is in need of your assistance in the lab."
Darcy sighed, "Of course he does. Tell him I'll be right down."
As she rose, pulling the cover up over her body and the towel over her arm, Loki rose with her. She smiled at him, tucking her hair behind her ears and hoping it wasn't frizzed from the heat, humidity, and pool water. They walked together through the house, Darcy trying not to sprint from anxiety and at the same time wanting to drag out the encounter by slowing her steps. For once, she didn't fill the space with aimless chatter. She couldn't, actually, because whatever tension existed between them remained a constant and assured presence in the back of her skull, pressing against some part of her brain that registered that something had shifted in their relationship, and should couldn't figure out where.
When they reached the automatic doors of the lab, Darcy stopped about an inch inside, her eyes wide with shock. Tony was hanging from what looked like a piece of machinery by the cuff of his sleeve, his legs dangling dangerously below him. He was faced away from her, and didn't seem to have noticed their arrival, probably because he was texting.
"You know, I really shouldn't be surprised by all this. But, damn, when I think I've seen it all," she whispered up to Loki conspiratorially.
Loki smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets as he observed the precarious position of the man who'd built Iron Man. "Nothing surprises me anymore."
Oh, ho, ho, god of mischief! Distracted as he was by the sight of the hanging man, Loki didn't even see it coming. Darcy stood on the tips of her bare toes, reached up to grip him around the neck, and planted a firm kiss on his mouth, her teeth catching his lower lip as she pulled away.
"Surprise," she said, brushing her fingers against the door mechanism and watching in half-amazed wonder as his face registered first shock, then a devious promise of vengeance. Darcy was in a shitload of trouble, but she couldn't have cared less. With the taste of him still rolling around on her tongue, Darcy turned to her boss and assessed the situation.
"How in the holy hell did you get up there anyway?" She called.
Tony turned awkwardly, "Ah, Darcy, you're here. Be a doll and go to the breaker room and press the reset button."
Darcy placed her hands on her hips, "Where is it?"
"It's a big red one, above a big panel of lights along the far wall. By the way, your boobs look great in that. Good color, too."
"Thanks," she called back, resisting the urge to wrap the towel around her body in mortification that her boss probably just got a first-hand glimpse at the goods. She threw her stuff down on her vacant desk and stepped to the far end of the lab. The breaker room was very rarely ever entered unless it were a dire emergency—like this one—or someone had fucked up—like Tony had—or maybe she was curious and she wanted to know what was behind the mysterious door that said 'keep out'. In any case, Darcy headed through the door without any qualms about the warning of electrical fires and disfiguration, twisting this way and that to find the reset button.
It was exactly where Tony had said it would be, sparkling ruby red behind a case that just begged to be opened by nimble fingers. Reaching up, she flipped open the casing and pressed the button. The lights around her flickered as the power of the building surged forth to restart the machinery. Then, Darcy flipped down the casing and turned to leave, nearly tripping over herself as she came face to face with Loki. He looked down at her carefully, gauging her reaction before taking a step forward into her space. Instinctively, Darcy stepped back, pressing her body into the wall behind her.
He framed her, one arm on either side of her shoulders, palms pushing lightly into the drywall. Breath stilling in anticipating, Darcy swallowed back her words, focusing on the intensity of his eyes. They pulled her in, not unwillingly, until she had to dig her nails into her own skin to bring her attention away for even just the tiniest moment. Seeming to realize her coming to awareness, he took action, leaning into her space with an air of aggression that had her hissing in a breath. He slid past her, his skin so close that Darcy could feel her nerves begin to fire in premature anticipation for touch. She could feel his breath fanning across her jaw, her neck, her hair, forcing shivers to roll down her spine. It was an eternity of anticipatory hell, and Darcy's patience was lit up like a roll of TNT.
She snapped, reaching up to pull him closer and grasping only air. For a moment, she stared at a sudden lack of his body with confusion, and then ire, then rage, and then amusement. "Oh, it is so on," she whispered to no one in particular, but somehow she thought she heard a laugh by her ear, tempting her very skillfully.
Traipsing back out to the lab, Darcy caught sight of Tony bent over his work yet again, sharpening something or other that she was sure would end out on his suit at some point. Knowing that he would have no more use of her that day, she grabbed her towel and padded out of the room, leaving Tony to what he did best, immersing himself in something he found interesting to the point of obsession. Not that she could blame him. What he happened to do was save the world on a regular basis, and she was totally cool with that, even though she sometimes worried he wouldn't come back from a mission.
With an uneventful trip back to her room, Darcy lay back on her bed with a sigh and a smile—and a squint. Her curtains were flung open yet again, and though the sun had reached the other side of the building by now, it still reflected harshly into her retinas. Rising, she closed the blinds and curtains, staring at them in consternation. Was Jarvis playing some kind of joke on her? It didn't seem likely as the disembodied butler didn't seem the practical joker type. Shaking her thoughts away, Darcy decided to take a shower, contemplating her plans to get back at the not-so-brooding Mr. Broody-pants in the next few days. When she stepped from her bathroom, running a towel through her hair, her blinds were open again.
"What that actual fuck, dude?" She said to the empty air.
The next chapter will probably be up this weekend, and shit is going to get real. Just sayin'.
Leave me some love, it keeps the chapters rolling out so quickly. ;)