I had this written before I posted the last chapter, but one reviewer got it right in their first guess on a certain gift idea. Please enjoy!
Darcy was startled awake by the sound of her bedside table sliding a few inches away from her bed, the wooden legs scraping across the floor abrasively. Confused, she glanced at the clock, a blurry 3:21am, reaching blindly for her glasses. She pressed them over her ears, glancing about the room groggily while she got her bearing. Immediately, she wished she hadn't. Standing at the foot of her bed stood a black shapeless mass that seemed to suck the very light from the room. It coiled in on itself, shifting marginally back and forth while Darcy stared.
The air was thick with cold and her breaths were fanning out in a mist in front of her that seemed to hang before her mouth and fade into nothingness. She screamed, because what else what she going to do? Darcy screamed so loudly that she could hear the echo of it reverberate off her walls. Then, she screamed again just for good measure. The darkness seemed unfazed by her resonant shrieking and it moved forward with purpose. Darcy reared back against the headboard, shoving her sheets and blankets away from her in preparation for flight.
Her preparation was unnecessary, however, because Jane came rushing through the door, flicking the lights on as she went. For whatever reason, the light shoved the mass away and it dissipated so that Darcy and Jane were staring at each other from across the room.
"What was that?" Jane whispered harshly, moving slowly and carefully into the room. "Are you okay?"
Darcy nodded, "I think so. And I have no idea what that was, it just appeared in my room. Like a stalker."
"Jarvis?" Jane questioned to the air.
"I scanned the room when Ms. Lewis screamed, but I could not detect another person present," Jarvis replied, his automated voice seeming almost sorry.
Darcy rose from the bed, shoving her hair away from her face, "Maybe I was dreaming."
Jane scoffed, "We couldn't both be dreaming the same thing, Darcy. There was something here, and it looked like it was going to attack you."
"This is stupid," Darcy uttered more to herself than anything, "Hey, where's Thor? I figured he would be rampaging right along with you, Mieu Mieu at the ready."
Jane sat down of on Darcy's bed, "He and the whole team are out on a mission somewhere in Asia. Stay on subject, though, what was that thing?"
"I don't know," Darcy whispered, "It was just here…and then it wasn't." Then, "Can I sleep in your room tonight?"
Jane smiled, "Absolutely."
They padded out of Darcy's room and down the hall to the room Jane shared with Thor. Darcy slid into the bed next to her friend and pulled the covers up to her chin, praying that whatever it was she had seen was never coming back. Her prayers were unanswered, however, as every time she returned to her room, something was out of place—her blinds were open, her bedside table moved, her clothes strewn about haphazardly. Eventually, Darcy began to refuse to go into her room at night because it was getting just a little too weird. She settled for sleeping in the love nest.
The TV was on and the news was playing idly in the background while Darcy fiddled with her notes on the murder cases. Having made no progress since understanding the correlation between the mark and the symbol, Darcy was on the edge of giving up completely. There was some insane part of her that wondered if the case and the weird shit going down in her room were connected as well. She folded her legs beneath her and sighed deeply, rolling ideas around in her head until she felt dizzy with confusion and frustration. This whole thing was absolutely bonkers, and yet she knew she could solve it. Every day she went to work, sat down at her computer, and went over her notes. Sometimes, Tony would bring her coffee and a scone, sometimes he would leave her to it. Most of the time, though, Bruce was giving her this look that she couldn't quite comprehend. But, when she would look in the mirror later, she would see that same look staring right back out at her from the glass.
Shoving her notes away, Darcy glared up at the TV, feeling unnecessarily annoyed by the bright colors and images it portrayed. The whole world was conspiring to be insanely happy while she sank into her frazzled nerves. It just wasn't fair—very, very unfair.
"Looking sullen doesn't suit you," Came Loki's voice, smooth like chocolate. Speaking of chocolate, he was holding something that resembled the luscious substance in one hand. "Where is my smiling Darcy?"
"She's right here, if one of those chocolate doughnuts is for me," Darcy replied, eyeing the small cardboard box hungrily.
"Oh, this?" He said casually. "I suppose I could relinquish one to you, if you asked nicely." His expression was equal parts naughty and nice, sincere and facetious. Darcy found that this Loki, of the many Loki's she had seen over the last few months, was the one that turned her on the most. The man had some serious magnetism, and right now he was very much in his element in that he was holding on to something she wanted for which he would exact a price she was all too willing to pay.
Standing, Darcy sauntered over to him, accentuating the already apparent swing in her hips with every step. It took some major cajones, but she forced herself to walk right on up to him, putting her body within an inch of his so that she had to look up at him through her lashes. Then, with the softest, breathiest voice she could muster, she allowed 'please' to roll off her tongue in one long syllable. For a second, Darcy wished someone had gotten that on camera, just so she could remember the moment forever.
In lieu of reply, Loki leaned down and kissed her without preamble. It started as a soft glide of lips that shifted sinuously against one another, growing deeper, stronger as one kiss turned into many. When she pulled away, sliding the box of doughnuts through his fingers, Loki's eyes were dark. Darcy reveled in it, hopping down into the pit with her treasure, waving him after her. Then, she opened the box, pulling one of the tasty morsels to her mouth with relish.
Loki settled in next to her, relaxing on one elbow. Darcy smiled widely at him, "You have totally made my day." She took another bite, "You're awesome—a god amongst men."
"Indeed," he said with a smirk, the cogs in his mind turning visibly. Of course, he's a god amongst men. But, he was god who brought her doughnuts and made her toes curl with searing kisses and teasing, taunting touches. There was no mistaking that Darcy was totally falling for the guy, but her natural reserve in dating situations—fuck, were they even dating? She thought about it and came to the conclusion that bringing her doughnuts and cheering her up definitely counted as dating in her book.
Loki's eyes scanned her crumpled and scatter notes, one hand lifting a page absently. "I see you're working hard."
Darcy shrugged, "I wouldn't call it working, exactly. I'm not making any progress at all."
He nodded, flicking the page away and while she watched it waft back down to the pillows, Darcy tried not to think about how much of a failure she was being at that moment. She hated not being able to follow through on this, hated that she was stuck yet again on something that anyone who had watched enough CSI could probably solve.
"Perhaps you need a distraction," Loki suggested with a deceptively soft tone.
Darcy glanced at him with a curious expression, "I don't know, this is pretty serious work and its taking up a lot of my attention. You think you're up to distracting me?"
It was like pulling a tiger's tail, baiting him like this, but Darcy couldn't help herself. She was always the type to see how deep the rabbit hole would go, and delving into Loki was like running through a tunnel that ran straight to China. It was dark, it was cool, and it was limitless. For a moment, it looked like he was going to retort with something sly, but he stopped short, his thin lips curving into a smile that had her almost crawling away in apprehension.
"I think I can handle it," he said, rising. Offering his hands to help her up, Loki pulled her along with him out of the pit towards the main hallway. "I need to get something from my room, and then we'll go."
"Go where?" Darcy asked, irrepressibly happy that he was holding her hand as they walked. It was stupid and girlish and so cool with her that she was tagging along beside him while his long legs took them up a flight of stairs towards a part of the house she hadn't seen yet. It was much like the rest of the mansion in that it was ornate, tech-savvy, and lacking in personal touches. Tony wasn't into the homey décor and they were lucky that there wasn't a huge portrait of himself hanging in all of his hallways, staring at them as they meandered about the house.
When they moved through into Loki's rooms, Darcy had to squeeze her fingers into her palm to keep the excited vibrations from shaking her body, physically. The room was…lush. It was the only way she could describe it. The fabrics, the colors, the woodwork on the four poster bed were all sumptuous in their vibrancy. Darcy couldn't help but to reach out to run her fingers along the bedspread, her nerves tingling as they fired along her skin. So wrapped up was she in indulging her own tactile sensations that she seriously forgot Loki was in the room, watching her.
The blush, when it came, spread over her cheeks in a warm embrace. "Sorry," she said.
"No need to apologize," he replied, stepping up to her. "I have something for you." He held up a small silver chain that rolled over his fingers like water, the links reflected the sunlight from the window in a prism. Held delicately along the chain was a petite pendant of interlocking lines that formed an almost snowflake shape.
Moving around her body to place the charm around her neck, Loki spoke low in her ear, "It is the Helm of Awe, a symbol of protection for my people." He touched her shoulders, leaning down, "I know of the strange happenings around you. The symbol, and the silver, will protect you from magic and those who seek to harm you."
Well, fuck me running. When Darcy thought about the possible scenarios for a time when she and Loki would be in his room for any extended amount of time, this was the last thing she could think of that would happen. In fact, this was a scenario that wasn't even on the table. She cleared her throat, pushing away the huge amounts of sentiment that ran through her brain while she thought of just how freaking sweet this man was.
Turning, she allowed her arms to wrap around his waist in a fierce hug for only a moment. Pulling away, Darcy righted herself and steadied her feet. "Thank you," she croaked, her gaze hitting the floor and staying there.
Loki gazed at her for a few moments, and then took her hand, leading her out into the hall and away from his room. From his pocket, he produced a set of keys that she recognized as property of SHEILD. Darcy took them with a smile, "Where to?"
Sliding into the passenger's seat, Loki replied, "Dinner?"
"Works for me," she said as she turned the engine over. "Craving anything in particular?"
The look she received in return was visceral and made her warm all over. Darcy ducked her head and pulled out of the garage, spinning the wheel to ease out into the street. The sun was low in the sky, hanging over the horizon and casting an orange glow over the buildings and road. About ten minutes into the ride, Darcy made an impulse decision and pulled off onto a familiar street and turned into an almost empty parking lot. Cutting the engine, she glanced at her passenger with a smile, "C'mon."
The place was a dive, but it was one of her favorite places to go when life at the mansion was way too weird. The waitresses were extra friendly and the other customers didn't look at you when you ordered everything off the dessert menu. She could blend here—not become invisible like when she was in a staff meeting at her job—but, blend into the crowd so that she became part of it. They sat in a booth near the back of the room and a waitress dropped a few menus off, leaving them to make their choices.
Darcy already knew what she was going to order, but looked at the menu with a feigned interest. Out of her periphery, she watched Loki's eyes run over the options, a curious squint passing over them. It took a few minutes, but she eventually took pity on him, dropping her menu between them so that she could point out the good stuff.
"You should try the breakfast, it's always good—and if you ever come here without me, don't ever get the fish. Just don't, you'll regret it for days," She offered helpfully, running her hand along the laminated folds.
Loki closed his menu with a flick of his wrist, setting it to the side, "I'll take your word for it."
"You should," Darcy replied, leaning back into the booth and looking around at the bad memorabilia hanging haphazardly on the walls. "This is one of my favorite places. Nobody cares who comes in, just as long as you order something. I don't have to be useful, just eat." And lord knew that was one of her favorite activities.
"I can see that," Loki said, touching his fingers to his lips in thought. Darcy watched the movement, knowing through her own sense memory what that motion felt like. "You're already relaxed," he mentioned off-handedly.
Darcy smiled, "Yeah, I guess I am."
They ordered, talking about odd things while their food was prepared by a cook who looked burly enough that he could have been (and probably was) a bouncer at the bar next door. Loki was seriously funny, she discovered, and not in the usual way. He was dry, sardonic, and could shift the balance of the conversation on a dime that had her on her toes the whole time. She danced over words with him, feeling like her conversation, for once, was something less than aimless chatter and more like sharing memories and feelings. By the time the check came around, Darcy had relayed some of her most embarrassing stories from childhood, and some of the more memorable moments during college. She talked about classes and parties, and nights spend over books that smelled like aged vanilla. And he listened, asking follow up questions and smiling that soft, wry smile of his that made her hide a giggle behind her hand.
After using the company card to pay for their meal, they headed back to the car. Darcy slid into the seat, putting the car into drive and pulling from the parking lot. The trip back to the mansion was slow and comfortable, filled with comments about the meal and follow up ideas sparked from their dinner conversation. She was enjoying herself so much that, when she finally pulled into a parking spot, Darcy actually thought about making up excuses so that they could leave again. The mansion only seemed to remind her of the responsibility she had to the people who kept dying while she tried to figure out what the fuck was going down with those symbols. It only reminded her that she was failing at something she considered incredibly important.
They stepped out into the fluorescents, Darcy taking extra time to make sure the car was locked and secure. She shouldered her purse, stepping into synch with him as they headed towards the elevators. In the rush of a millisecond, the air around her got cold—so cold that her breath puffed out in front of her fast with each exhale. Darcy glanced up at Loki, who returned her confused look with one of his own, his body stilling as he sensed the change in the atmosphere. The lights above them flickered, buzzing as the power surged into their sockets.
Turning, Darcy spied a form across the room, inching towards them in a staggered shuffle that had her backing away step by terrified step. "What is that?"
Loki shook his head, "I don't know." His reaction was graceful, blue magic swimming from his fingertips towards the thing and sliding through it to hit the back wall.
"Okay, that didn't work," Darcy called up to him. "Any other ideas?"
It really didn't matter if they had any other bright ideas because the thing had reached them. Darcy recognized it as the swirling black mass from her bedroom, its form blurred and yet distinct at the same time. She had backed her way into the car, Loki standing in front of her on the balls of his feet in a defensive stance. He held her back with one hand, his shoulders squared against the mass in front of them. It pulsed once or twice, seeming to test the air around them for their resistance. Tense with fear, Darcy waited for its next move, her grip on Loki's jacket strong enough that she could hear the tears in the threads.
The lights flickered again and the mass pressed forward, surrounding them with this wail that pierced through the air until Darcy had to squeeze her eyes shut in pain. Something ripped at her, sending her flying to one side while Loki was dragged to the other. She fell hard, her head slamming against the cement. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Darcy thought about how awesome the night had started, and how pissed off she was that instead of potentially getting laid, she was getting killed—which fucking sucked.
Darcy woke with a blinding headache. She groaned, reaching up to press the heels of her palms into her eyes, which had started a full-on rebellion against the nerves in her brain. The first coherent thought in her mind was that she was naked. Not in her underwear, fully naked and covered with a thin, sterile sheet. Only the weight of the silver necklace Loki had given her remained. Her glasses lay by her head. The second coherent thought was that Loki was lying on a table a few feet from her, also lacking in clothing and covered in a sheet. The third coherent thought was that he was blue. Not the blue that comes with exposure to cold—he was storm cloud blue and there were raised lines crossing his body in an almost tribal pattern.
Rolling to standing, Darcy pulled the sheet around her and tried to get her bearings. She recognized the room as one of SHEILD's medical holding units. They were being held for medical testing, probably because of the thing that happened in the garage…what had happened? Darcy gathered that she had probably been knocked out cold when she was thrown around by the mass of darkness, but what happened after? She tested her limbs, noting that even though she was sore everything seemed to be in working order for the most part.
"Loki," Darcy called, not certain her shaky legs could make the trip over to him. "Loki!" She called again. He didn't stir, and for a moment she thought he might be dead. His chest was rising with breath, but that only made her feel marginally better as he was still very much unconscious. Padding over carefully, Darcy called out to him a final time, surprised at how strong her voice was despite the general pain throughout her body.
Face scrunching against the light, Loki came to consciousness with a hiss, his movement mirroring her waking moments in the press of his hands to his face. Darcy waited a moment for his mind to clear and then she spoke in the calmest voice she could produce despite the most ridiculous words she could use.
"You're blue, dude."
"What?" He said, squinting at her.
Darcy smiled, "Um, your skin. It's blue." She reached out to brush her fingertips against it, more to draw his attention to his body—okay, because she really wanted to know what blue skin felt like. His reaction was more hysterical than it was confusing. He jumped from the table, sliding back until his feet hit the floor as he backed away in a jumble of blue limbs. Obviously, he hadn't noticed his own lack of attire because he failed to drag the sheet along with him. She tried not to look, seriously tried, but there was no stopping the movement of her eyes as they trailed downward at a leisurely pace.
"Nice to know you smurf out everywhere," she said with a smirk.
Flushing this interesting purple color, Loki pulled the sheet from the table and wrapped it around his body. Then, he closed his eyes with an expression of intense concentration, which totally gave her the green light for a second perusal of his exposed skin. Mouth hanging open, Darcy watched as the blue faded away only to be replaced with pale, perfect, porcelain skin that was very much familiar to her. In a weird way, she was disappointed. The blue skin thing was a new aspect of Loki that she fully wanted to explore, and it was not cool that she only got a taste of it before it was being pulled away.
"My sincerest apologies," Loki said, the purple color of his blush morphing into a deep red.
Darcy shrugged, "I'm not complaining." She smiled, feeling the expression reach her eyes, which only made him blush a little more, the color staining even his ears. "So," she said as she hopped back on her respective table. "You turn blue."
He looked away, then moved around his table and sat down slowly, "I do. When my magic is drained, I revert to…that form."
Pulling her hair over her shoulder, Darcy caught the soft expression of shame that crossed his face before he could control it. "Can I see it again?"
The surprise that shot unchecked across his face was deep and unrelenting as it seemed to break something inside him. In the blink of an eye, his skin was changing again, fading into this deep, eerie blue. Darcy watched in abject fascination while he transfigured into someone that looked so different and yet so similar to the man she knew. Wanting a closer look, she slid from the table to cross the space between them.
Loki held up a hand, "Don't."
Darcy ignored him as she observed the transformation from a closer range, "Even your eyes change."
He raised his other hand, "You cannot touch me in this form."
"Why not?" Darcy asked, confused.
"Because my skin will burn you. A frost giant cannot be touched by mortals," he offered in way of explanation.
Darcy ran the moniker through her mind a few times, picturing something along the lines of Frosty the snowman. Loki definitely did not fit that description, though she was sure there was a Popsicle pun she could weasel in somewhere. Too soon, the icy blues sure there was a popscicle pues of Frosty the snowman. as somehow faded back into a soft pinkish hue and Darcy was left staring at him for several long moments. She could tell that he was growing a little uncomfortable beneath her unrelenting eyes, but she couldn't help it. The feeling she got watching him change from form to for was the same she got watching him manipulate the tiny orbs of light.
"That is so cool," she breathed. "You have, like, a carryon Halloween costume." It was a stupid thing to say, so she followed it up with, "Does it hurt?"
Loki looked like he really wasn't sure what to make of her reaction, but he replied in the negative.
Darcy nodded, "Good. Because it would totally suck if it did." Backing up to her table, Darcy continued to speak even though her brain told her that talking was going to make this awkward situation even worse. "I'm guessing that this isn't a regular occurrence for you."
He shrugged, the motion drawing her eyes to the flex of muscle beneath his skin. Loki was lean, defined in a way that was both strong and graceful. She wanted to test the strength in his limbs, wanted to see how much power he held. Focus, Darcy!
"I have, over the last year or so, mastered my control over the monster," Loki assured her, his eyes never quite reaching her face.
Darcy's brows furrowed, "Monster? I'm sorry, were we in the same room a few minutes ago? I didn't see any monster."
He scoffed, "Don't patronize me, Darcy. Frost giants are—I am—a plague upon the human race, bringing nothing but fear and death upon all those around me."
"Shut the fuck up," Darcy shot back before she could stop herself. Way past controlling her anger, she shoved from the table and stomped over to him, one finger pointed dangerously at his sternum. "You listen to me, and you listen good. I don't want to hear the word 'monster' come out of your mouth one more time unless you're referring to the size of your, let's just say, impressive package. 'Monster' in any other context cannot possibly be used as an adjective where you are concerned." She dropped her hand, waving it absently, "Besides, you're the only man I know who can pull of that color without looking limp-wristed."
It was probably a little more forceful than she needed to be, but the fury that built up inside when she saw just how sincere he was when he thought so poorly about himself couldn't be contained in mere platitudes. She refused to back down and she refused to apologize—let him be pissed at her, if he dared. Darcy shoved back the rest of her rant and waited for his reply, whatever it may be. He had gone silent and still the moment she slid aggressively into his space and the trend continued even as she considered whether or not it was a good decision. Her silent retreat was stopped by both his hands on her upper arms, trapping her between his thighs while he seemed to think about her little rant.
He toyed with the ends of her hair, fingers running through them slowly, deliberately. "Not even Thor speaks to me as you just did."
Darcy chuckled, "Well, considering that I used a taser on him the first time we met, it shouldn't come as a surprise."
Loki's smile spread wide across his face, and Darcy counted it as a victory in her book that whatever he was feeling in that moment was infinitely better than whatever he was feeling in the moments before. They were back to equilibrium once again, except for the fact that they weren't wearing clothes and she had just seen him completely naked. There was that to deal with—later, when the only stable surface wasn't sterile and metallic, when there was a bed with pillows and sheets that were sumptuous and lavish and would feel glorious gliding against her skin.
The doors to the room hissed open and Darcy turned to see Jane come striding through with an anxious expression on her face. She issued a sequence of questions that Darcy couldn't follow, pushing her back onto the table to examine her breathing with a stethoscope. Darcy allowed Jane to run a few devices over her, writing frantically on a medical chart while Darcy sent amused glances to Loki, who looked equally as amused.
Jane squared off with Darcy, forcing the younger girl's attention to focus, "Do you remember anything?"
Darcy shook her head, "Not really. I mean, I remember the thing coming at us in the garage…and then waking up here."
Jane seemed to hesitate for a moment, then she tapped on a nearby screen, bringing up a video. "This is the footage we got from the cameras in the garage."
They were standing near the car, staring out into nothing. Darcy watched as she was flung to the side with inhuman strength and Loki was lifted and thrown back into the far wall, the impact cracking the cement. There was no black mass, no strange staggering form to account for their movement. Only empty air and what looked like seriously sophisticated CGI. Darcy blinked at the screen, her eyes flicking to Loki, whose only response was to shrug and gather his sheet further around his body.
"And this is what we just got not half an hour ago," Jane continued, tapping another video screen.
Darcy was laying deathly still with Loki in the room, the only movement coming from either of them was their breathing. The lights flickered several times and small puffs of air formed around their mouths. Then, a form materialized next to Darcy, taking the shape of a woman with a mass of curly, kinky hair haloing and hiding her face. Squinting at the screen, Darcy tried to get a better look, but somehow everything remained blurred. The woman approached her sleeping form, one hand reaching out to brush against her brow. Absently, Darcy rubbed at her forehead, feeling violated in a seriously strange way.
The woman snatched back her hand as if burned, disappearing as quickly and as mysteriously as she had appeared, and Darcy's body began to convulse on the table. Her limbs jerked, slamming against the metallic surface over and over. Medical personnel in white coats flooded the room, holding her form down and turning her so that she lay on her side. They produced from some hidden pocket some kind of syringe and Darcy winced as it was held high above her in preparation to plunge into her skin. However, her body stopped convulsing just as soon as it had started, leaving the staff hovering around her with latent anxiety.
"What the fuck?" Darcy breathed more to herself than to the other people in the room. "What happened?"
Jane gave her a sympathetic look, "I was hoping you could tell me." She glanced down at the chart in her hands, "There doesn't seem to be any residual effects, though it could take weeks for us to determine long-term issues. And you don't have a history of seizures."
"And there is that freaky lady all touching me in my sleep," Darcy complained with a whine. "That's seriously fucked up, Jane."
"I know!" Jane nearly yelled. "Don't you think I know that? We all saw it—Tony and Thor and I—and we couldn't get through the doors. Tony couldn't even override the main controls until… well, until you started seizing. Darcy, I've never felt so helpless."
Her heart hurt, and her head hurt, and generally everything hurt right then. Shit had definitely started getting real in that room, and not even the most well-trained people could get through a single fucking door to help her.
"Well," Darcy sighed. "Well." There was nothing left so say. It had happened, she had survived, and now she had not only one weird mass of icky darkness coming after her but also a deranged and possibly magical woman. Did she ever wish for excitement? Because she totally took that back.
Jane offered them both a change of clothes, and before she could blink, Darcy was ushered onto the main floor where Director Fury was waiting for her. She pulled at her sweater, wishing she had her trusty bag on her shoulder. The thing was old and ragged and smelled like her college dorm, but it held her whole life. She hoped it still existed somewhere and hadn't been obliterated by whatever the hell it was that had attacked them—she was saving that bag of Doritos for a rainy day.
"Ms. Lewis," Fury began, "Glad to see you're still alive."
"Thanks," Darcy shot back dryly, sitting in one of the vacant chairs. Tony materialized beside her, patting her shoulder as he sat. From across the room, she could see Natasha leaning against the wall, her sharp eyes flicking over Darcy in assessment. Jane eased away from her, giving a half-wave while she stepped from the room. Loki had also gone missing. Darcy was fiercely reminded of every time she got sent to the principal's office in school. There would be a counselor sitting next to her to ease her anger, a gym coach to take care of aggression, and the principal would glare at her from across the desk. Fury wasn't glaring, exactly, but who could tell with the eye patch? What mattered was that, with fewer witnesses around anything could happen.
"I haven't been completely honest with you, Darcy," Fury said. "And it has, unfortunately, placed you in more danger than I had originally hoped for this case."
Darcy's eyebrow quirked, "So, potential arrest is okay, but demonic possession isn't?"
From beside her, she heard a strange choking noise from Tony. He didn't say anything, but she had an idea of the myriad of scathing comments that would be running through his mind.
Fury's face seemed to relax, "Something like that." He clasped his hands behind his back, "We knew we were dealing with the demonic from the get-go. We knew there was most likely a human controlling the demon. And we knew the relative location of that human within a few blocks. What we didn't know was their purpose." Darcy had to wait a few long, torturous moments for him to continue.
"When I said we found no interesting similarities between the victims' medical histories, I was lying." Darcy rolled her eyes, but maintained her silence. "One similarity, you have already discovered—the mark on the wrist of each victim occurring right before their deaths. The second similarity," he trailed off, breathing deeply. "Is that each victim experienced a seizure exactly like the one you just experienced in the medical lab."
Darcy rolled the information around, "And…"
"And," Fury continued seeming for the first time to search for the words he needed to say. "And the final similarity was that each of the victims was clean."
"Clean?" Darcy perked up. "Like, they showered every day?"
"No, Lewis," Fury shot back, "Clean, as in," he paused in incredulous realization of the words that were coming out of his mouth. "As in, without the stain of blood."
The words were familiar, eerily familiar, and Darcy's mental rolodex flipped through the pages upon pages of notes to the incantation. The demon would only take the bloodless. It was a requirement for the demon to strike, a seemingly innocuous part of the ritual that hadn't rang a bell until Fury had said anything. So, no murderers. That made sense—not really, but she was going to go with it.
"And?" Darcy said again, not sure where this was going.
Fury gave her a hard look, his mouth pressing into a thin line, "And you are the only agent with security clearance to the Avengers who hasn't taken a life."
Darcy started to nod, she started to agree, and then she started to get mad. "You used me." She stood slowly, her palms pressing into the table, "I was bait this whole time. How many of you knew?"
She looked to Tony first, whose eyes could not seem to rise from his clasped hands, then Natasha whose arms folded tighter across her waist.
"Who else knew?"
"Only the people in this room," Fury stated. "We couldn't risk a breach, and with a mole already in play…"
"Fuck you," Darcy called out, "Fuck all of you and your stupid agendas, your fucking secrets."
Fury held up both hands, palms up in supplication, "I am sorry for how this happened. It was not our intention for you to play this role. But, when the entity focused on you, we were able to track it, and try to stop it."
Darcy's look could have melted stone, "A lot of good that did. The only thing I need now is—oh fuck me." She had pulled her sleeve up, exposing her wrist, only to find the whirl of spots indented into her skin like some kind of dermatological plague. Slumping into her chair, Darcy threw her head onto her folded arms. She pressed her face hard against the surface of her arms, looking through them to the floor. Then, she murmured into her sleeve, "Did you happen to find anything else useful that I should, you know, know about since my life is now basically forfeit."
Tony shifted in his chair, "We may know how to stop it."
Darcy rolled her head to the side, staring up at him, "How? And don't think I'm not pissed at you. See if I help you down off the next ledge you're stuck on."
Tony took it in stride, "I knew you could handle it. Thought maybe you would taser me, though."
"It's a thought."
"I'll keep that in mind. Just don't aim for the goods, Sweet Pea. Pepper's a frisky girl—."
Darcy rolled her eyes, "On with the saving my life part."
"Right," Tony said, rising and tapping the middle of the table. "Look, there's this tablet on auction next week. In it is a ruby the size of a human heart and we think that's how we can get the demon."
Staring at him, Darcy had to blink several times, "I'm gonna need some back story."
He smiled, "The pattern of victims is reminiscent of a ritual that hasn't been used in about a thousand years. It's a lot of dead language and ritualistic sacrifice, but the underlying message is that a lower demon is called to sacrifice fifty humans over the course of six months or so. The demon's symbol traps the souls in some kind of paranormal limbo until the final kill, where that ruby is placed in a circle of the final kill's blood and that unleashes…" he paused, thinking for a moment, "Imagine the horror of Fury in drag."
Darcy's face scrunched, "I'm going to have to bleach my brain."
"The whole world is going to have to bleach their brains," Tony replied, "But, then again, they won't have brains to bleach. Because they'll be dead."
Leaning back in her chair, Darcy glanced at the photo in front of her, "So, no ruby, no problem."
"Exactly," Tony said.
"So, why don't we just take the ruby? We could have superspy over there just pop in for a quick smash and grab, and be done with it."
Fury shrugged, "We want to draw the person who controls the demon out. We'll send a team to the auction for surveillance—see who bids. Of course, until the auction, it will be on lock-down."
"Great," Darcy said, "So, how many people do we have left before they need the ruby?"
The sudden silence in the room should have tipped her off that something was wrong. But, honestly, everything about this conversation was wrong, and what came next shouldn't have surprised her. The three of them looked at her with this expression of utter helplessness, similar to the look Jane had given her in the lab. Something in her stomach dropped like a stone, settling low and burning like fire and hate.
"What?" Darcy asked, her voice cracking.
"There have been forty-nine murders, Darcy," Natasha replied in a voice that was so soft that if she hadn't seen her lips move, she wouldn't have thought the woman capable of it.
Darcy swallowed, "Oh, damn."
"Don't worry, though," Tony piped in, "You're safe as long as we keep the tablet and the ruby out of the hands of the maestro of this whole shebang."
"I'm not exactly reassured. What do I do until this thing ends?"
Fury almost smiled, "As of today you are an official agent of SHEILD, and you will work with Natasha and Dr. Foster that night to see that the tablet doesn't leave our custody."
She tried to comprehend what he just said, she really tried, but something just wouldn't compute. "Why?"
"You wanted more responsibility, you got it," Fury replied in way of explanation, his face expressionless. She thought, however, that she could see a hint of a challenge in the depths of his eye. And damn if she was one who couldn't resist a challenge.
Darcy laughed, "That's screwed up, you know that?"
"It's the government," Fury replied. "Everything is screwed up, one way or another."
She considered her options, thought about how she could sit back and wait for whatever it was that would be after her or she could seek them out, hunt them down, and bash their brains in. Brain bashing seemed like a lot of fun. "Okay, here's what's going to happen," Darcy said, "I'm going to accept your offer, I'm going to stand up, and I'm going to moonwalk out of here while I flip you the bird."
And that's exactly what she did.
Reviews are love, my ducklings, and they urge me to write faster. ;)
