Skel: Total cluster-cuss is imminent.
Chapter Six
The group stood up swiftly from the table – Loki leaving another ridiculous tip despite Darcy and Jane's protests. Darcy was slightly put out that she hadn't gotten a chance to dunk her chips in her ice-cream-in-a-lid. As they climbed into the taxi, she pouted.
"What is the matter?" Loki asked kind-heartedly as he slipped in beside her. Thor and Jane were catching a different cab.
"I didn't get my feast," she replied simply. Loki chuckled.
"You mean your ice-cream? We have plenty at home—"
"No… I mean I didn't get to dip my chips in the ice-cream," she gestured with her hands, "it's what I was waiting for."
Loki blinked, "That's gross," he said, and Darcy just giggled.
"You saying words like 'gross' is gross," she smiled at him and he smiled back. How nice it was to have a good laugh with him. She didn't think him capable of laughing, unless it was an evil villainous laugh or something similar involving cackles and creepy background music. He seemed genuinely happy now.
She wondered what had happened – between the two of them. How had they met? And why was he so fiercely protective of her? Even as they'd walked down the street, he'd shifted her across so that he was standing on the road-side, and she was shielded from the traffic.
And the way he watched her every move, like he was making sure she didn't do herself any harm. It was disconcerting, yes, and in most cases the feminist in her would have puked. But there was something strangely endearing about it, coming from him.
What had happened, which caused such a change? How had he evolved from what she knew him to be, into what he was now? All the stories she'd heard on Asgard painted him out to be such a dick. And the whole Jötun genocide thing was way out of line, even for someone with a severe case of sibling/daddy complexes.
Yet here he was, gentle and cunning and mischievous and kind-hearted and ridiculously dominant and completely wayward and totally gorgeous and pathetically conflicted… yeah. She really needed to sort out her sanity before she started deciding she actually liked the guy.
She was staring at him. Awkward. Hopefully he hadn't noticed.
Geez, what's up with me? Darcy wondered. She was squirming around, biting her bottom lip and fidgeting with her t-shirt…
She thought about how they'd met, in that alternate reality which she was supposed to remember. What had it been like?
"Um… Loki," Darcy said hesitantly. He looked down at her warmly.
"Yes?"
"How…" she furrowed her brow, "how did we meet?"
She tried to decipher his expression but she could not. It was somewhere in between casual indifference and the deepest of sorrows.
He watched the window for a moment, then said without looking at her: "I'll let you decide that," he breathed.
"Huh?"
Suddenly the cab came to a stop. "Seventy quid, mate" the driver said. Loki paid him the fare – and some – then opened the door, leaving Darcy a bit more than confused, and a little annoyed again.
But then he bent down to look at her through the open door. His eyes were full of a strange indulgence – like the look a grandfather might give their infant grandchild when they'd attempted to make sense of the adult world. He held his hand out to her and she blinked.
"I am stooping to your mortal level, Miss. Lewis. I suggest you take my hand," he said softly.
She scowled, but couldn't resist. His hand was very soft and smooth to the touch, and it gently coaxed her out of the cab. He gave her a little squeeze then let go.
"There is a lot of peril to be found in the course of this next meeting," he said cryptically, watching her. "So I shall return once it is over. The cupboards are filled, and you will find your clothes hanging in your new closet…" all of a sudden he drew her awkwardly to him, embracing her lightly. She was too stumped to hug him back, and so just stared wide-eyed over his shoulder.
He drew away and gripped he. She was so bewildered by his intense green gaze that she suddenly felt overwhelmed with some strange sadness. He said softly: "the memories you lost… are of no consequence. You are alive, and free to reinvent a past which you should be happy you've forgotten…" He kissed her forehead. "Reinvent it with me."
And with that he vanished. Just vanished! Darcy choked on a breath in shock, but then calmed herself down. The emotional whirlwind she was feeling rooted her to the spot, and she watched on as the cab drove off and the London bustle continued. Even when she got bitterly cold and her teeth started chattering inside her mouth, she remained. Trying to make sense of things.
After a while, she decided it was best not to mull it all over. He'd be back – she could gruel him with questions then.
"Oh fuck, so I don't get to come along?" she suddenly said angrily. Ugh. How annoying.
She wished she possessed his talent for magic so she could zap herself around like he did. She'd love to see the look on his face when she suddenly appeared in the middle of the super-important S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting. Put out, she opened the security door and wandered up to the apartment. Maybe she should just pig out on some ice cream and rent out a movie while she waited. She smiled. Escapism in food and film was her favourite Saturday night.
Loki wafted into view in the middle of the S.H.I.E.L.D. conference room. It was several stories below sea-level, super-high tech security boxing it in from the outside world. Loki entered with ease.
Although he'd seen photographs before, and knew their faces, it was the first time Loki had seen the members of this new team in the flesh. Prior to the Jotunheim fiasco, Loki had done some mild research on Midgard, half out of boredom, half out of a villainous desire to take it over. He'd looked into Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, and the other superior mortals who seemed to pose a threat.
They didn't.
Tony Stark was the first to notice him from across the room. Not only did he show no surprise on his chiselled features, but he also smiled and raised his scotch-glass to him in a gesture of greeting. Loki deduced he was either perpetually drunk, or perpetually apathetic towards all of his environment.
Steve Rogers turned and jumped slightly. Loki inclined his head towards the man – he knew he was slightly more refined than the rest, being born out of a different era. Loki appreciated Midguardian history – it had a certain charm in its infantile squabbles.
The one they called "The Black Widow" – Natasha - was reclining languorously on a couch, martini in hand. She too, showed a little more surprise, but seemed more intent on eye-raping him – as Darcy used to put it - than greeting him properly. Loki internally decided she was very handsome and amply formed for a mortal woman, but her charm was completely lost on him. She clearly had no other weapon apart from the physical. That was not attractive to him in the slightest – as he was the most intelligent being in the nine-realms.
Banner was standing somewhat apart from the rest. Figures. The poor man was a complete outcast, even in the "Superhero" circle. He had no control over his powers, which was a shame, as they were diabolical. Loki gave him a small smile. If he were to raise an army of minions, he would certainly require aid from him.
Clinton Barton, the one they called "Hawkeye" was leaning against a pool-table. He shot a warning glance at Loki, which he deflected with ease, choosing to offer him a playful smirk. Slowly he wandered into the middle of the group.
"Do not be alarmed. I seek peace and safety for all mortals just as you do," his voice was dripping with sarcasm. Barton clenched his jaw – the guy really didn't like Loki. The rest of the group moved to the balls of their feet, poised for attack. Loki found it utterly amusing.
The room was tense, all save Stark who simply watched the scene from beneath his sunglasses.
"At ease, super-spandex-club," he drawled. "This villain is batting for the right team," he took another swig of his drink then threw the glass onto the pool table. He sauntered over to Loki and stood up tall and straight, meeting his gaze. Loki blinked slowly.
"Mr. Odinson, I believe?" Tony said levelly, offering his hand. There was a hint of amusement in the way he set his mouth which Loki found strangely likeable.
"Mr. Stark," Loki reached for it and shook it stiffly, smirking back at him. This was a man who saw business and pleasure as one sport. Brilliant.
Stark grinned, "Please excuse the children, they're not used to company. In fact, they don't play well with others."
"I'm sure…" Loki rubbed his chin, "and I'll wager you don't either."
Stark laughed, "You're a perceptive one. Come, a drink for the new member of the gang!" he proceeded to pour a shot glass of whiskey. Loki groaned internally – he detested the stuff.
"Yes…a toast," Loki said softly, "to killing infants and stealing women's' undergarments and of course – to mischief and mayhem, "Loki raised his glass and downed the drink in one go, screwing his eyes shut as the disgusting taste rolled down his throat. To his delight the whole group was horrified.
Tony laughed again, "This should be a lot of fun."
"Everyone," Loki began, "My brother and Fury will be here shortly. I have other pressing matters to attend to, so I will be prompt in my explanation." Loki placed his glass carefully on the coffee table, sitting down on a spare chair.
He pressed his fingertips together, "I do not expect you to understand what I am about to tell you, but at this point I do not really care."
The group was silent.
"Nick Fury has called you all here because S.H.I.E.L.D. is putting together a team of… better than average mortals. I am of course referring to you all…"
Everyone scowled except for Stark, who simply smiled smugly. He probably thought himself better than Loki – yes, Mr. Stark was a highly intriguing mortal. Stupid and arrogant – but intriguing.
"The reason for this sudden collection is because Mr. Fury believes the planet to be in danger. I can assure you it is not, and all is fine," Loki continued.
Natasha frowned, "That's all well and good, but how can we know this isn't one of your ploys? You come in here all high and mighty and expect us to believe you? What if you're the threat?" Natasha said bitterly.
Loki gave her an indulgent smile. "My dear, that is the reason Fury has called you. He has only just been informed of my arrival – and knows nothing of the reasoning behind it. He suspects me of being up to no good…" at this Loki grinned lop-sidedly, staring at the young "Black Widow" with intensity. "Now why he would suspect a thing like that… is beyond me."
Everyone became very tense all of a sudden.
"So… why are you here?" Stark asked levelly. He was now walking closer to the group, scotch glass in hand.
Loki's expression sobered. "The real reason is because… there is someone here I am bound to protect." Everyone exchanged confused glances, but Tony Stark's brows shot up.
"Oh…" he said softly. Loki narrowed his eyes. Maybe he was more intelligent than he'd given him credit for.
"Anyway," Loki stood, "Fury will attempt to explain to you my mentality. He wishes to … confine me. After learning of my arrival, he told me thus. His reasoning is not only to protect Midgard from my apparent ulterior motives, but also to learn as much as he can from my abilities with magic… which is of course ridiculous as no mortal chains could prevent me from escape…" he clicked his tongue.
"But I can assure you, Avengers," he said with particular relish, "I mean this planet no harm. The only way I would again defy my father and give into childish ambition were if it posed a threat to the one I seek to protect…" he looked gravely at each of the members in turn. "I promise you that if any harm befalls her by your hands, I will not hesitate to kill every one of you in an instant."
The tension was palpable. Loki cheered internally – he loved being able to command the atmosphere of a discussion. And he especially loved frightening mortals.
"Fury wished to speak with me himself about the matter, but what he wants to discuss is quite undesirable. I would not be locked up in a compound to be experimented on and watched like some animal."
Banner cleared his throat, "I … understand your distaste," was all he said. Loki nodded at him.
"I take my leave of you, Fury is about to arrive" and with that he vanished, to be replaced by Nick himself and Thor, who strode in through the huge metal doors.
Fury scanned the room with his one piercing eye then scowled, "Where is that damned Loki. He's late."
Darcy had her hand elbow deep in a tub of hokey pokey ice cream, scooping around with a spoon for the dregs of glorious frozen cream which had now melted to the floor of the tub. She had her mouth covered in sticky sweetness, and her eyes were puffy and red as even more tears spilled out onto her cheeks. She made a strangled sound as Claire Danes woke up and found Leo all beautiful and dead beside her.
"Oh God!" Darcy cried out, sobbing without shame. Fuck, I hate this movie so much. Die in a hole, Shakespeare!
She was now trying to place pitiful lumps of ice cream in her mouth with her bare hands, getting it all over her chin and fingers and baggy t-shirt. Blubbering as she did so, there was a sudden noise behind her, and she spun around quickly.
"Loki!" she cried, squinting in the darkness of the room. She'd turned out all the lights and was huddled on the couch with a smattering of junk food and dvd's everywhere. Loki looked very, very frightened.
She hurriedly wiped her eyes and tried to scramble out of the blanket she'd cocooned herself in. Reaching for the remote she paused the movie, and leapt up to flick the lights on.
"Eugh…" she said through a blocked nose. The place was a mess.
"Um…" was all Loki said. She felt like she'd been caught in the act of doing something wrong.
"I'm sorry okay? I have a weakness for depressing movies…" she rubbed at her face, feeling the smudges of ice cream on her mouth and cheeks.
Loki was still frozen to the spot, unsure of what to do. "Did… did something happen? Are you f—feeling ill?" he breathed, watching her warily.
"No… and yes, something did happen," she sniffed, "Leo just died! But Juliet died too… but she wasn't actually dead, but he thought she was, so he died, and now she's going to die and everyone's fucking dying all over the place and it's just…" she broke down again, snorting a little as she tried to sniff.
"Wh—who is Leo?" Loki's eyes flickered to the television, where DeCaprio's glorious face was all dead and beautiful… "Is it this man on the Television Box?"
Darcy pouted, "Uh huh," she blubbered.
Realisation dawned. A small, amused grin spread over his perfect features, "So … you were crying because a fictional character has perished tragically in a film along with his lover… and not for any other reason? Like pain or emotional grievances?" Loki's eyes darted around as he watched her every feature.
Darcy scrunched her nose up. Was he genuinely concerned she'd been crying about something else? Why would he care about that? Why didn't he just do the same awkward thing guys do when chicks start weeping uncontrollably and either leave or blame it on PMS?
"Um… yeah, that's it…" she said, gaining control of herself.
And then before she could even blink he had his arms around her, squeezing her to him tightly. "Oh Darcy, you had me very worried there," his voice was full of laughter. His hand was on the back of her head, pressing her face into his wonderful smelling shirt. She could feel the thud of his heartbeat on her ear. His other hand was rubbing her back and she felt very, very happy all of a sudden.
Giving in, she melted into his embrace and curved her arms up to grip onto his shirt. Nuzzling her nose into his chest, she inhaled deeply. Oh that fuck-awesome smell… it's heaven. She almost felt intoxicated by it.
But then he pulled away – no! you bastard, come back with your smell! - and looked into her face.
"You should do that more often," Darcy said suddenly.
His eyebrow arched, "do what?"
"This," she gestured to him, "the whole awesome hugging thing. It's much better than the whole molesting thing."
Loki stiffened. "Right," he said softly, averting his eyes.
Still without looking at her, he said very seriously, "Darcy… how's your head?"
She blinked, "My head?"
"Yes… does it hurt?"
"Um…" she thought for a moment, "No… it's fine. Apart from the few brain-freezes I got from all the ice-cream… it's fine now. I mean, there was also the crying, that doesn't always help. Wh—"
Suddenly his lips were on her. All she could understand were his lips, softly planting the sweetest kiss on hers – gentle and disarming and subtle. She closed her eyes and allowed him to kiss her – his soft tongue dancing on her lips, then pressing them open slightly. She smiled against it and moaned as he pressed her against the wall and kissed her deeper and more intensely…
Her knees were turning to jelly; her hands - trying to find purchase in his soft black hair – were slick with sweat. His fingers were behind her neck, pressing into it gently so that she bent into him more. He was so tall! She couldn't feel anything except for him – he completely encased her like a beautiful smelling, black blanket of intensity.
Then he stopped, watching her from above his long nose, his lips inches from her skin.
"How was that, Miss. Lewis?" he asked tenderly, but with a hint of dark mischief in the way his voice reverberated through his chest deeply. She whimpered.
"F—fine…" she breathed, trying to gain control of herself. She was never one for swooning, but this was ridiculous. Her entire body was melting.
He smirked naughtily, suddenly sliding his hands from her face down her neck. She shivered.
"Good…" and he suddenly lifted her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. His bedroom. Very different from her own – with a four-poster bed and seriously nice mood lighting. She wondered how he'd found the time to light candles…
"What the hell?" she asked. "Where did the candles come from?"
Loki didn't reply, but she looked up and saw him grinning. He threw her onto the bed and she bounced backwards, letting out a little yelp of surprise. He swirled his left hand and the candles seemed to dim so that she could only just see properly.
"And you're quite sure this is not hurting you?" he hummed at her as he leant onto the bed with his arms. She felt all liquid inside as he stared at her darkly.
"You haven't even done anything yet!" she said impatiently. He chuckled.
And then he was on top of her, kissing her, holding her, stroking her, tonguing her and…
"That's quite enough for tonight, Miss. Lewis," he breathed into her ear. She was vaguely aware of a touch on her hand…
Oh. He had his long gentle fingers on top of hers as she had tried to unclasp his leather belt… Awkward, I didn't even know I was doing that.
He followed her gaze down and smirked. "As pleasant an idea as it is…" he lulled into her neck, breathing onto her tingling skin so that she shivered instinctually.
He kissed her there on her neck, then pulled away and held both her hands in his tenderly.
"Not yet," he whispered, then brought his fingers up to her face. Before she could even register what was happening, he passed his fingertips down along her eye-lids, closing them.
And she fell asleep.