Author's Note: A key component of my take on Loki is the trickster archetype. So, without further ado...

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IV. Unexpected Guests (Xenodochy)

Darcy gets a mysterious 'guest'. They play a game. Also, a tea party happens.

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The following days proceeded at a more sedate pace.

For Darcy, this translates as normal-people's working hours, because Thor would not let his lady love run herself down, not when he had Darcy as a reliable alarm on all things Jane. Come the end of the working day and if there was no Avengers' meeting he had to go to, Thor would be hanging out at the lab. The astrophysicist might grumble a bit for all the interference, but Darcy wasn't blind to the way her whole being light up whenever Thor came around, so Darcy's efforts were all for a good cause.

Today, it was quiet at their labs, not another soul in sight but her, and Darcy considered it a welcome respite. She and Thor had finally worn Jane down with their pleading after more than ten days, and the scientist finally agreed to take a few days off.

Now, she was relaxing on her desk and downloading a lot of movies into her external hard drive. Who knows when Jane was going to drag her to the middle of nowhere again, chasing anomalies? It was best if she stockpiled her entertainment now. Besides, the internet speed in the lab was divine. Waiting while browsing and listening to her iPod wasn't such a bad pastime.

Then, she went off to their mini-kitchen to make some coffee.

She should've noticed that something was not quite right the moment she pulled both mugs out, but she had gotten into a nice groove humming and dancing to Katy Perry. Why should she pay attention to the boring mugs? She had carefully measured the coffee, turned the machine on, made sure that the settings are correct, and settled down to wait. She felt bored and a little bit restless not long after that, so Darcy stood up and started rummaging the cupboards to find where the other pot was. It was one that she had bought just in case the people from the labs next door visited and wanted tea.

You know, just to make sure she didn't misplace it.

It didn't take long for the coffee to be done, the aroma of roasted beans filling the air. She took a nice, deep breath at that. Darcy poured some for herself, and added some sugar and cream.

She glimpsed something in the direction of the couch, and stared back for a few more seconds just to make sure she wasn't mistaken.

There was someone else there, a stranger. She was damn sure she didn't open the door for anyone. She didn't even hear it open!

She still wasn't sure it wasn't an illusion of some sort, though. He was pale, with long musician's fingers and cheekbones that was patently unfair for a guy to have. There was a certain grace in his pose, even if he was just sitting down, reading a book on one hand and what looked like a child's toy ball in his other. His clothes, with his green tunic and leather boots, seemed to be something straight out of Lord of the Rings, and she still had to convince herself she wasn't imagining him.

"No, I am not your imagination."

She gasped. He closed the leather bound book he had been reading and raised his head. Green eyes met hers, and she could see the light of curiosity and a spark of playfulness in them.

"No, I don't bother reading people's minds, either. The skill is overrated. Your face, however, is woefully transparent."

"Hey! Who are you to pass judgement on people?!" Though he says it with a very nice voice, Darcy noted, personally. His accent was close to British and his voice could probably hypnotise her if he cared enough to put the effort. He threw the book in the air and it was swallowed by a thin green line. Must've been nice to have a portable pocket dimension like that, she thought idly.

He smirked. "Would you rather I lied?"

"You could actually introduce yourself to people instead of stalk them. It makes for a friendlier greeting," she answered.

"I wasn't stalking you."

"You could've been staring at me without me knowing, I say that counts as stalking. Not to mention the whole issue of a stranger entering without knocking. I'm also pretty sure the door is locked for most people" She sighed, and stared back at the two mugs she had taken out without realising, one filled with coffee, and the other one empty. Her grandmother had once told her to always trust her instincts, and apparently, her subconscious knew he was nearby before she herself did.

"I am not most people," he answered carelessly. Power and privilege rolled into one in his answer. Even if it was just as annoying as the entitled jocks trying to pick her up, he certainly had more dramatic intensity than them.

She rolled her eyes at that. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Hold your horses, Macbeth."

She didn't know who he was and didn't know what he could do. Oh, he could juggle, apparently, she thought, with a tinge of hysteria, let's call Cirque du Soleil! At one point, five toy balls had appeared and he was idly tossing them between one hand and the other, appearing not to pay her that much attention. Well, of course he didn't. Since when are you such a great threat to him, Darce?

The only upside for her was his apparent politeness.

Oh, what the fuck. Why not? Any port in a storm, right? Any angle you can work with.

"So, what would you like to have? Tea or coffee?" She asked. To herself, her voice was rather uncanny in its calmness.

He gave her an odd look. Four of the balls disappeared and he caught the last one. She ignored it. She'd gotten worse stares for her weirdness in high school.

"I also have hot chocolate, if you'd rather drink that."

"You're offering me beverages?"

"Yep. My mother raised me properly and that includes being a good host. Wait, you know what coffee and tea tastes like, right? Or hot chocolate? Do they have all of that in Middle Earth?"

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. Huh, lookit that. Whaddya know, they have eye rolling where he came from too.

"I'm not from Midgard."

She blew a strand of hair from her face. "Like I didn't figure it out before. It's a figure of speech, Legolas. Well? Do you want me to make all three of them?"

She pulled more mugs down from the cupboard. He looked intrigued. The words he had just said had only registered with her then. Midgard. He said Midgard. There's a good chance he's an Asgardian. His tone was milder now and not as pointed as it initially had been.

"I'm familiar with tea."

She snorted. There was no way that she didn't take his words as a challenge. She might not become a die-hard tea drinker from her run in England, but she grew familiar enough with the various tastes. She had her own favourites too, even if they didn't beat coffee.

"There's a lot of tea. In fact, I've got a lot of tea too, here. My favourite is English Breakfast, but many people fancier than me seem to enjoy Earl Grey—I could never understand that, but we have some of it all the same. Chamomile is nice to relax with any time of the day. Got a favourite?"

She was babbling. She only hoped he didn't notice it much.

"I am not sure any of my favourites would be available."

"Shame on that, eh?" Her reply was sarcastic.

He didn't notice. There was a dash of intrigue in his eyes as he watched her move, the curiosity of a lone wolf approaching a bustling human campfire. She didn't know if it was better than his careless disregard, or more dangerous.

"It is bearable," he replied with a shrug.

You know who's the other Asgardian known to be in Stark Tower, right? Thor's little brother? The spare heir that went spare?

She gripped the pot and turned around to fill it with water from the sink. If she kept moving, the barely noticeable tremors her hands are developing wouldn't be visible (and maybe she would forget it too). She placed it on the stove. It shouldn't take too long to boil that.

When she turned around again, he was much closer than the couch, on the other end of the countertop, idly picking up Bunsen burners and observing them.

"Shit! You could've given me a heart attack! Warn a girl when you move around, will you? I might crash into you the next time you apparate around."

He only looked amused. "I am adept at dodging. You may continue to treat your kitchen as if I am not in it."

Even with all her efforts not to, she couldn't help rolling her eyes. With an ego that big, it's surprising that both of us fit in this room.

"Don't say I didn't tell you," she murmured.

He was curating an assortment of kitchen and lab utensils with uncommon care, rolling them curiously in his hands. The direct sunlight by the windows painted him as sublime as a Vermeer portrait. She had flashbacks of that one semester art history course she'd taken. He must've felt her staring because he looked up and grinned, balancing the same tension between compelling gaze and ambiguous smile captured in many timeless paintings. Darcy wanted very much to slap her forehead several times to regain sanity. No crushing on the crazy, Darcy! Not until you know more of his motives.

She poured him some coffee and added one and a half sugars. It was better to err on the side of less sweet than too sweet.

"Here's the simplest way to make coffee. It's Sumatran, so it should be good unadulterated."

He picked it up from the countertop, sniffing it a little before drinking. He didn't even need to sip it carefully.

"It is… passable coffee."

Her voice rose in pitch. "What? Passable? Only passable?"

His eyes were bright with silent laughter. She should be offended that she was apparently his source of entertainment, but she had that Oscar Wilde quote as a bookmark and knew she should actually count her blessings in this case. Make people laugh when you're telling the truth, or they'll kill you.

He corrected himself. "My apologies. It is delicious for a home brewed coffee."

It was kinda sad how that mollified her. Sure, it was petty, but she didn't care. She picked the pot up from the stove. "Oh. Jeez, thanks. So, what do you want to try now, tea or hot chocolate?"

"Why not both?"

She sighed. Of course he wanted both.

"Of course Your Highness, let me get that done for you," she replied, sarcastically. Still, she moved anyway. This time, he was staring at her more openly. She avoided meeting his intense gaze.

"You know who I am."

"What? No. I don't know who the hell you are. There's that matter of the introduction you keep skipping, remember?" No one had actually told her who he was, and that was true. There were some doubt on his face, but she ignored it. "It doesn't mean you don't have that annoying high and mighty attitude."

He looked offended at that, but she ignored it. She hadn't said anything wasn't that wasn't true.

Darcy was quickly steeping tea and making hot chocolate at the same time they were talking. Whoever said that part time work doesn't leave you with relevant life skills is an idiot.

This also helped her from having to face him directly.

"Do you always treat all strangers like this?" He asked, his curiosity was blatant.

"Do you always break into people's houses?"

"Have you thought of asking for my name outright?"

"Why should I want a name not freely given?" She snapped.

Hells yeah, she knew her fairy tales. That's gotta be relevant here, right? When she's trying to outfox a Trickster God? Bitch please. He seemed to take issue with her answer until some internal realisation occurred. His grin grew wider, and she could feel a tremor of something at the base of her spine. So much for not antagonising the Renfair roleplayer, Darce, she thought with an inward groan. Great job there.

"Wouldn't you want to know why I'm here?" He asked instead.

She shrugged. "Why should I even care?"

"Aren't you concerned for your safety?" He took another step towards her. Two more steps would take him right in front of her face. He was tall, at least as tall as Thor and moved with the grace of a fencer. The most frightening thing, in Darcy's opinion, was how not scared she was. This was a game. She didn't know how she did it, but she had pulled him into a game and he was all too eager to play.

In her heart of hearts, she knew could do this.

"Want to try the tea now?" Darcy asked.

She gave him a saccharine smile, and savoured the confused look he gave her. It was cute. Well, she was allowed to call him cute, wasn't she? People could look all sort of things, regardless of personality.

Before he could say anything, she pushed the tea she had been making to him.

His gaze fell to the mug in his hands and she could see his fine eyelashes. He took his time in savouring the drink, and she couldn't help but be touched by the appreciation. Her tea wasn't world class, but one wouldn't know it from the way he was drinking. There was something precious in how he gazed at her from over his mug, as if she had just presented him with a treasure.

Darcy took an unconscious step back and tried to keep the distance between them.

"No thanks for the lady?" she kept her tone teasing. A different part of her just went ballistic over it, as in, why the hell am I flirting with the unknown alien?

"But it wouldn't be fair, would it, when to reply is to admit losing?"

"Losing what, Your Highness?" She snarked, a hand on her waist, hips cocked to one side to display her curves at their best. On a saner assessment, maybe she shouldn't have done that. She could see him swallow very slowly at the movement, his eyes growing black. Yet she couldn't deny that she enjoyed feeling the thrill of being able to affect him.

Whoo, power trip.

"Wouldn't you want to know?" He asked.

He took another step towards her, his voice low and dangerous and made her feel deliciously warm.

"Should I?" She asked.

His answering grin was all teeth and no give.

For all his words, he did not cut off her escape. He was not trying to intimidate; he was just there, standing, present and waiting. His scent reminded her of the older heart of a hyperborean forest and something unabashedly male. She could almost feel his curiosity about what she was going to do about it. That was what scared her most; what would she do about it?

"Was the tea good?" She asked. She pretended she didn't hear her question turn breathy at the end.

"What's your name?" He set the tea aside, on the counter.

If she thought he had been staring at her before, she was wrong. Those were only interested glances. This was staring. This was currently making her heart catch in her throat and wish to twist his dark hair in her hand and pull. Bad, bad Darcy.

"What's your name?" she countered.

"Why not give me your name?"

"Why should I go first?" She was not going to think on the increased risk she kept taking on because she can't. Stop. Poking. Him. Nope. Not thinking.

"What would you do, if you find out your guest was Loki of Asgard?"

Darcy tried not to show any reaction at that. Shit! I was right! I hate it when I'm right. Too many questions ran through her head, Starting with 'why was he here?' and ending up with 'I thought he was locked up in the basement? She could have a break down there and then, but that would certainly be not fun.

"Were you regretting ever offering your hospitality?" He asked.

She shrugged, even if she knew he'd read what little tension was in her body. If asked what she was doing, she had no idea, but fortunately her body knew what to do already. Darcy retrieved the cup of hot chocolate for him and Loki accepted it with the same grace as he had before, complete with deep nod when he raised the mug in his hands. He drank it with the same reverence and stared at her as if she was the cupbearer of the gods. When he returned the mug to her, his hands slid against hers, eloquent in their touch.

She could feel her throat drying up and her objections evaporating one by one. It was only then that she realised she had actually answered him through her deeds. No, she had no regret.

"What do you think of Darcy Lewis of Earth?" She said.

"Would you allow me to intrude upon your hearth again?" He replied. She could almost hear the weight of ages in the ritualistic choice of words. Their game had turned serious from who knows what point.

Well, it's not as if you even cared, isn't it? An inner voice snarked at her.

"Can't I hear your answer first?" Darcy said.

"May I kiss you?" He asked.

Her cheeks heated up. Darcy was pretty sure that her answer was too damned obvious, but it would seem that he was a gentleman. He hadn't reacted except for the smallest tilt of his lips, and she scrambled to find something that would slow her from gravitating towards him.

"Can you tell me that you're not here to hurt me or my friends?"

His hand paused halfway from touching her face. His expression was an odd combination of vexed and impressed. "Was there ever any question, whose answer was so obvious?"

She huffed in annoyance. Well, it wasn't obvious to her. Plus, that wasn't exactly an answer.

"Why else would you be caught, then?" Darcy blurted out. His eyes narrowed, yet she stood her ground. If she reached out, she'd be able to touch his tunic, and those delectable looking collarbones.

"And here you claimed not to know who I am?"

"Is a wild guess as good as an answer?" she shot back. She received a slow nod of acceptance for her not-quite reply.

"What is your final answer, Darcy Lewis?"

The way he said her name made it seemed she always held his attention when he said it. Long fingers hovered gently, oh-so gently over her lips; the ghost of a caress had her parting her lips before she knew.

"Would you harm me or any of mine?" She asked again. Words she wasn't even aware she knew fell from deep within her. They were answers gained from the treasure box of precious tales, read a long time ago, by a storytelling father long dead.

Darcy took a deep breath and realised it was a mistake. He smelled too interesting, certainly something she wanted to sink in.

"Would any civilised man discard so callously the debts of hospitality?"

His tone was rhetorical.

This wasn't love, she wasn't a naïve teenager anymore to think that, but it was something. They certainly weren't going to be mere strangers and acquaintances with this. She wasn't going to lose to him first if she could help it, though. She grinned.

"Can I kiss you? Like, now, and not next year? Because seriously, what's holding you up?"

He laughed. It was a gorgeous sound even if rusty around the edges. He sounded he hadn't had much practice with laughing recently. It lightened her and saddened her at once. Perhaps that was the best way to describe him, as a beautiful tragedy.

That was what she was going to say if anyone asked why she stepped forward, reached for his collar and placed her lips over his. (Why the hell did he have to be so damned tall?)

His left hand found her waist and anchored her solidly in the here and now, fingers trailing delicate sparks around her neck and she lost sight of anything else but them. He pulled her deeper into the kiss, breasts pressed against solid chest. She exhaled with a full body shudder, warmed already from the teasing wanderings to her backside, and hadn't even done anything really raunchy yet. That, she thought, needed to be remedied.

Darcy sucked his bottom lip and used the opportunity to open her mouth and swallow his sighs. The layers of clothes grew too staid for the heat under her skin as his hands roved everywhere. She paid that back by squeezing his ass with appreciation, pulling their cores together and their kisses turned wet and filthy. Now there was an edge to the thirst that had her clutching him for support. Her fingers were frustrated that there was no easy way to remove his tunic and yanked it to the side instead, so she could taste his shoulders. It drew a sharp gasp from him. Her ass finally bumped to a countertop and she had nothing to complain about, her legs opening wider to accommodate him.

Something clanked to her side. It was a really inconvenient moment to remember all the mugs she left behind her, but remember it she did. And she was kissing the daylights out of a space alien in her office, at daylight. Even if no one could fire her but Jane (and she had her doubts on that), she wasn't going to screw her professional image that badly.

Darcy cursed, and forced herself to pull away from his very capable hands.

"Is there any way we can take this up to my room?" She asked between pants.

"Why? Is that an invitation, Miss Lewis? Why not stay here?" His voice was like honey to her ears. It felt good to know that he was as breathless as she was. Focus! Don't let the pretty man distract you!

"Darcy," she corrected him. There was a flash of glee in his eyes, but she put a stop on that quickly. "And that game we're playing is over the moment we start to make out. I'm so not losing or anything."

"My, aren't you a sore loser."

"Whatevs. I'm not keeping count of that. What I do keep count of, is the clothes we still have on, for some reason." For a moment, she was sure that her clothes would burn on the spot from the heat he was staring at her with. She could count this as a date, right? She offered him coffee and he took it, along with two other drinks she also made. They had even had more conversation with each other than she did on some of her college one-night-stands.

She never knew what he was about to say, because in the next second he had taken her arm, there was a swirl of colours and major disorientation for her and suddenly she was on the couch. Loki was sitting on the other end, not too distant, but none too close either.

The lab doors slid open and four of the Avengers came rushing in fully armed and loaded. The looks they received ranged from disbelief to wonder, from Hawkeye to Thor. Loki drank his hot chocolate as if he had been doing that all along. Even his long hair was smoothed back perfectly once more, she thought with envy. She probably looked like she had a bed head.

Darcy gulped. The Black Widow had one killer stone cold look. She wouldn't wish to face Natasha Romanova anywhere, not even for the last dessert in a buffet. The brunette waved at them awkwardly. They couldn't hear her heartbeat, right? It was still thumping like a racehorse and she could feel it pounding in her ribcage.

"Errr, hi? What would you guys be having?" She asked.

"The hot chocolate is exceptional," Loki quipped. "I'd recommend that."

"Brother! How… have you inconvenienced Lady Darcy?" Thor was the first to step forward. Hawkeye still had his arrow nocked, and it was giving Darcy the heebie-jeebies.

Loki rolled his eyes. "Does she look inconvenienced to you, Thor?"

Darcy could see the minute disappointment that Thor felt when his brother pointedly did not acknowledge their familial connection. So… godly family dramas, I almost forgot. She sighed.

"Loki, step away from her," the Black Widow ordered.

He grinned and moved closer to Darcy instead. "Why should I?"

Darcy was damned if she'd voluntarily stay in the middle of a Mexican standoff, as the fucking hostage chick. That was just too insulting.

"Could you guys put the weapons away? The harmless assistant is feeling so threatened here, in her own office."

"Darcy…" Thor looked uncertain of what to say.

"We're fine, don't worry. He hasn't been doing anything other than trying out all the stuffs I made and being the occasional smartass." Darcy answered, staring all of them firmly in the eyes, hoping to convince them that no, she wasn't in any immediate danger.

Tony Stark was giving her a weird look, as if he wasn't sure how to go about suggesting a drug test. The assistant huffed. "Was it so hard to believe?"

"The coffee's quite good too," Loki continued, as if nothing worrying had happened.

"Ha! I drank her coffee first." Tony cut in with almost childish glee. He expertly ignored the looks his teammates were giving him. "What? It's true. She makes a mean coffee."

Stark stepped forward and the tension melted away as he did that. His suit folded away from him. With only his bracers on now, he wasn't as intimidating.

"Anyway, why are you having a tea party here without inviting us? It's my tower. I reserve the right to be invited to all parties here." Tony declared.

"I wasn't even aware I was about to hold one," Darcy sighed and picked up her mug. It was a good thing that Loki had moved her coffee to the table as well, and wow, how did he managed to keep it warm all this time? It must be nice to have magic. "Not until Mr. Tall, Dark and Snarky here ambushed me."

Some people tensed, and Darcy smacked her own forehead. Wrong choice of words. Did you or did you not forget that they'd been enemies not so long ago?

Loki seemed unaffected. "I was merely reading."

The book he had been reading before was on the table. She hadn't noticed.

Darcy snorted. "Yeah, and I bet you were invisible before that. Of course I was surprised."

The Widow placed her hand on the Hawk's forearms and he relaxed his draw. "He can't leave the building with his powers suppressed by the cuffs. Strange had said he'd specifically warded the place for such contingency."

Darcy followed the redhead's glance, and she noticed that the discreet dun metal bracelets a little higher from Loki's wrists were probably handcuffs, or something. She hadn't seen it properly before because of his long sleeves. She suspected he also hid them from her on purpose.

Thor was the first to take a seat in front of her. Tony took his right and everyone else soon followed suit, all of them sitting counter-clockwise from Thor. Natasha Romanova sat between Clint Barton and Tony Stark.

"We were concerned when the alarm rang from the lower levels and the security system detected increased levels of magic here," the Black Widow said.

Darcy's eyebrows rose. "You can detect magic?"

"Sure can," Tony's grin was fifty percent smug and a hundred percent insufferable.

"Yeah, after Strange gave you pointers how," Barton blandly informed her. The scowl that slipped into the billionaire's face was amusing.

"I had the blueprints for it already since I've got enough data from several magical attacks. He only made adjustments."

Hawkeye shrugged. "Whatever makes you sleep easier at night, Tony."

"Jane was worried for you," Thor said, as Stark and the archer got caught up in their own argument. Darcy was hit with an uncomfortable amount of embarrassment—yeah, because she had so been thinking of Jane when she was playing tonsil hockey.

"I appreciate that. Tell her she had nothing to worry about, though, your brother's okay."

"Miss Lewis," the dark-haired Norse god next to her raised his voice slightly. She could see Thor tensing his fists. She had to hold back the urge to roll her eyes again.

"Well, tell her that Loki's pretty okay," she said. Darcy stood up to pre-empt the two brothers' opinions colliding in full. She also wanted to avoid putting herself in the spotlight again, because she could see that Natasha was eyeing her speculatively.

"Soooo, what do you guys want to drink? I know Tony's but I don't think I know any of yours? Thor? Clint? Ms. Romanova?"

"You can call me Natasha, Darcy," The Black Widow added.

"Err, o…kay? Uh, cool, I mean. Cool."

Darcy cringed inwardly at having to ever call her Natasha. That felt a bit like the cat trying to be bros with a tiger.

In the end, this was how Darcy Lewis held the first tea party for Loki and the Avengers.

'-

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Author's Note:

Hospitality traditions is a pretty ancient thing that go waay back in many cultures. If there's one thing I regret disappearing from urbanised and modern societies, it's that sacred bond between host and guest. No credit goes to me on the game as it's certainly not my invention. I half-forgot where I got it from.

If all goes well, see you on the same channel, next week.

'-

The Weird and Random Glossary strikes again:

The full Oscar Wilde quote Darcy refers goes like this: "If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you."