Onward!

The wait was decidedly boring and Darcy had to resort to pacing the length of the room over and over to keep from clawing at the doors in desperation. Jane sat rather compliantly on the couch after calming down long enough to start planning her vengeance, though her foot bounced with agitation once in a while. Both women were mildly offended at having been left out of the final fight, one more so than the other, and both women were going to have a 'talk' with someone before the end of it all. Darcy hoped Thor would survive.

"What is happening out there, do you think?" Darcy asked, throwing herself back onto the couch in resignation.

Jane shrugged elegantly, "I have no idea. But, if Tony uses my laser sight mechanism without my permission, Pepper will have to find another way to have kids."

Laughing at the threat, Darcy patted Jane's arm comfortingly, "I'm sure he's already thought of that and has found a way to circumvent your wrath. Tony can be pretty slippery."

"Tell me about it," Jane replied dryly. "You know what's bad? We don't even know what is going on up there. They could be failing utterly and we would be stuck down here until the generators failed and the doors unlocked."

Darcy nodded sagely, "But they won't fail. They're totally superheroes and Lucan is the villain. The villain always dies at the end, that's just how it goes."

"Darcy, this isn't a movie."

"Yeah," she whispered in reply, "But it sure feels like one sometimes."

They sat in silence for a few moments until Jane's face brightened forcefully. "So," she issued suggestively, "Tell me about Loki."

Darcy raised a brow, "Um, he's pretty cool."
"That's it?" Jane asked. "You've been working with him intimately this whole time and all you've got it 'he's cool?' Out with it, Darcy! There's no one in the building to listen."

Feeling a blush rise to her cheeks, Darcy ducked her head and pushed her hair from her face. "I mean, the magic thing is totally awesome and he's funny, and so smart, and I go all tingly and-he-may-have-already-seen-me-half-naked." The last portion was said in a rush of air that left Darcy inhaling deeply to right herself.

"Oh, my god," Jane crowed, "Why didn't you say something?"

"I just did!"

Jane scoffed, "You know what I mean, before the end of the world started."

"I don't know, Jane," Darcy began with a slight tinge of sarcasm, "Maybe because I was preparing for the end of the freaking world."

"Point," Jane replied, "But still, I thought we were friends."

Darcy felt some guilt at the sorry tone with which Jane spoke, knowing that the stress of the situation had separated them for far too long. Jane was busy being a super smart scientist and Darcy was busy trying to keep out of the way and navigate Loki's magic. She slouched into the cushions, wallowing in her misery at being a bad friend.

"Dude, I'm sorry," she said finally.

"Don't worry about it," Jane replied, subdued. "Things got crazy and who could blame us for getting caught up in it."

"Yeah," Darcy breathed. "On a side note, I may sleep with Loki if the opportunity presents itself."

"Darcy!"

"What?" Darcy called back, her eyes wide with innocence. "He's hot, Jane. By the way, does Thor have magical capabilities?"

Jane's deep blush gave her away and Darcy shook the woman for details, her spidey-senses tingling with the knowledge that there would be some juicy details coming. "He says that he's not good at it, but... wow, when he gets going." She leaned down and lowered her voice, "I'm talking literal fireworks, Darcy. Literal explosions of light. It's cosmic."

Laughing, Darcy smiled so wide her cheeks began to hurt, "Now I'm definitely going to sleep with him."

Jane laughed in turn, but her face schooled itself a little too quickly, "You should be careful so that you don't get hurt." Her tone was that of a big sister, one Darcy hadn't heard very much since Jane stopped being her boss and started working with the brothers in science developing the tools necessary to keep the world safe. It made Darcy miss the uncomplicated life of a college student, just trying to get her credits completed and get out of the institution of higher education.

Rolling her eyes, Darcy asserted with confidence, "I know, I know. I'll be careful. However, I can't blame him if he falls in love with my super-awesome self." The words were reflective of her inner bravado (which was, amazingly enough, still intact), and there was a small part of her that wondered if Loki felt anywhere close to the depth of feeling that she felt for him. Those feelings, however, would be locked away with an extra tight seal until she could be sure—and left to die if they happened to be unrequited.

They chatted about this and that for what seemed like hours, but Darcy couldn't really tell as her cell phone had been conveniently lost amidst the chaos. With no other way of keeping time, the minutes ticked by with excruciating tediousness, leaving Darcy constantly on edge. When the huge doors shifted, unlocking, they stood in unison, and Darcy had the urge to pull her pistol just in case. It would have been unnecessary, however, as Coulson stepped through tiredly.

"Are you okay?" Darcy blurted out, moving to him out of instinct. The man looked seriously beaten down, though there wasn't a visible mark on him. The lines in his face were so much deeper than they had been just a short time before and there was this look in his eyes that made Darcy think something awful had happened. She was right, as it turned out. Coulson spoke in monotone, one hand on her arm as he explained that Lucan had taken half the teams Shield had sent in a single strike and that the Avengers took a huge wallop in the meantime. The madman had been defeated, but at a cost. Loki had used an immense amount of very powerful and unstable magic to bind and shatter Lucan's necromancy, nearly destroying the whole city block in the blast. They found him unconscious in the rubble, alive but unresponsive.

Darcy took in the information, sliding down to the floor with Coulson supporting her weight to ease the fall. She felt this sense of loss pervade her senses, this sense of responsibility despite the fact that she hadn't been in the fact—perhaps because she hadn't been there. If she had been…maybe he would be awake and smiling at her in that frustrating way that meant he thought he had won whatever argument or debate they happened to be having that day.

"Take me to him," she said, forcing her body to standing in a wobbly movement. "I need to see him for myself."

Coulson nodded absently, one hand at her back while he ushered her from the room through the tunnels to the main conference room. The ride in the elevator was stiff and quiet, Jane on one side and Coulson on the other, both wondering if her stoic expression was determination or shock. With confident steps, Darcy moved through Tony's still empty lab to the medical room where Thor was standing over his brother, looking as if his world had fallen apart. And she guessed that, for him, it had. Thor had spent so much time and energy trying to prove to Loki that his actions meant nothing and that the older sibling still loved him, that they could still exist together in brotherly camaraderie. To have it come to this, Loki left unresponsive in a battle that Thor had asked him to fight, it had to be devastating to the Thunder god.

Darcy stepped up to the bed, bracing her hands on the rail and looking at her friend's peaceful, expressionless face. He looked like he was simply sleeping, resting from one of their sessions or something. Tentatively, she reached out and touched his hand, calling to the magic and finding a complete lack of any magical resonance. Darcy jerked away, tears forming in her eyes as she came to the realization that there was simply nothing left. What she was looking at was a shell compared to the person she knew and loved.

"Can we bring him back?" She asked, her voice cracking.

"I do not know," Thor intoned heavily. "I will return with him to Asgard to see if our healers can do something. That is all I know to do."

Darcy nodded, "How long will you be gone?"

Thor shook his head, the blonde of his hair falling down over his massive shoulders, "Time between the realms holds no meaning, and I do not know what the healers will need." His crystalline eyes focused on her, "But, I will report back regularly on his status."

Darcy nodded again, moving to sit in a chair by the bed. "I'll stay with him while you make the preparations. He shouldn't be alone."

She could tell that Thor wanted to argue, but a small cough from Jane stopped his protest mid-breath. Instead, he merely placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently in the only comfort he could offer. He and Jane stepped away from the room, speaking quietly while Coulson remained in place. For a minute or so, Darcy was left to her own devices, her gaze following the lines of Loki's features while his chest rose with each breath. And then Coulson was drawing a chair to her side and leaning his forearms against his knees.

"Tell me about him," he said to the silence.

Darcy flicked her eyes to the agent, noting that his expression held none of the facetious air of some of the other agents when Loki walked into the room, their perception of his eternally tainted by hismisguided actions upon the earth. He simply looked curious and willing to listen, brows lifted and eyes wide and welcoming. She sighed deeply.

"There are things about him that I really like," she began. It felt a little too close to the surface to go on in that vein, so she sidled off on a tangent. "He liked puzzles and games, and he's got this mind that moves a mile a minute. I can see that he really loves his brother, despite the fact that there's bad blood between them. A part of me thinks that they will fix things soon enough, if Loki would stop being to freaking stubborn all the time."

She twisted her hands together, thinking. "There are some serious insecurity issues, but I think we were making progress in that, though who really knows. He's so comfortable on the outside, wherever he is, and it's like he adapts to every situation as it comes along. And, I admire that about him. I admire his wit, his intelligence, and I think I like him a lot more than he likes me, but that's okay because he treats me like a really good friend. That's more than I could possibly ask for from a god."

Darcy wasn't sure how long she went on like this, a running monologue of her thoughts on Loki too long stuffed in the back of her mind. By the time she was done, there were tears in her eyes and Coulson was handing her tissue after tissue while she alternated between crying and basically ranting against the injustice of the world, using vocabulary that surprised her in their eloquence. When the words ran out and her mind quieted, Coulson rubbed her back soothingly and didn't say anything when her tears drenched his jacket as she cried.

"This is so stupid," Darcy hiccupped. "I didn't even know him that long and I'm crying like I just lost my best friend."

"Sometimes," Coulson began, "We know our best friends instantly, and even though they aren't with us for long, they leave a lasting impression."

Darcy looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, "You know, that could be in a fortune cookie."

The preparations were made in record time and before Darcy could properly bring herself to let go, Thor was carrying Loki through worlds, leaving nothing but empty air where such binding used to be. It took her a whole day to stop crying incessantly, and three more to stop the tears from occurring sporadically at her desk or while she was in the shower. Coulson kept her close, only sending her back to her apartment a few weeks later, when the rest of the city had come back from their stint in government hold up. There were rumors about what had happened during those long vacant nights, but Shield was keeping them at bay, sending in interference and pitting one analyst against another in a fascinating game of whodunit.

As she pushed through her door, pulling the key from the lock, Darcy was suddenly struck with how normal everything looked. Her movies and ipod dock were in their usual place, her crummy TV and DVD player still sitting in front of the couch. Nothing had been touched, and yet everything had been altered so irrevocably that she spent the next several months obsessively rearranging the room so that something could look different and she wouldn't feel quite so insane.

Work started up in similar fashion in that Darcy would show up, push paper across from Coulson for several hours before heading home alone to wallow in Chinese takeout. She couldn't go back to the pizzeria quite yet, but she glanced at it wistfully every time she passed. Just when she thought things were beginning to take on a routine, Thor showed up in a blaze of thunder and wind with a report that was dismal. Loki continued to remain in a comatose state and the healers had hit a wall as to what to try next. Darcy took the information in and managed to walk away with dignity before clocking out early and spending the night curled up in a pile of pillows and blankets, once again hit with the knowledge that maybe she was at fault for his current situation, her guilt unassailable.

When the winter came, Darcy reveled in the bulky sweaters and thick coats that would hide her weight loss from the questioning eyes of Coulson and Jane. She retreated into wearing her thick rimmed glasses all the time and several scarves around her neck. No one said anything, but she could feel them noticing when she entered or left a room. One day, while filling out more forms that dulled her senses to nothing, a pair of booted feet stomped up to her desk followed by a pair of hands pressing on the wood before her determinedly.

Darcy looked up to see Natasha standing rather intensely in front of her, "Can I help you?"

Natasha's brows rose fractionally, "Let's go."

"Go where?"

"Now, agent." Her tone brooked no argument, and Darcy was disinclined to follow, but she did it anyways, surprisingly interested in seeing what the reclusive agent wanted from her.

They walked through past the armory into a training room where Natasha turned on a pin to face her. "Off with the layers."

Squinting, Darcy folded her arms in front of her, "When did you become my boss?"

This drew a full smile from Natasha, which automatically spurred on lots of warning bells that Darcy was fairly sure she would have listened to several months earlier. As it was, she was tired and didn't want to be there when she could be at home with her internet. Therefore, Darcy was keen on ignoring the safety devices that had been ingrained in her since starting at Shield Headquarters.

So quick that Darcy barely had time to flinch, Natasha's hand sprang outwards and had one of her scarves from around her neck, holding it before her in an almost taunt. She tossed it aside and when Darcy turned to retrieve it, she took the second one, too. Sighing, Darcy shot the woman an annoyed look, lifting her hands and removing her coat before the other agent could take that without her permission, too.

"The sweater, too," Natasha called out and Darcy had the distinct urge to flip her the bird. She complied reluctantly, lifting the layers which left her in a pair of too-big slacks and a camisole. Natasha eyed her calculatingly, her mouth pressed into a line. Then, she turned and opened a locker, tossing Darcy a bundle of clothing.

"Put these on."

While the agent turned to give her privacy, Darcy slipped out of her work clothes and pulled on the work out wear. It fit a little too tight to her slimmed down frame so that she could feel the self-consciousness rising in the back of her mind. When she was finished, Natasha turned back to her and led her to a punching bag. Silently, Darcy allowed her hands to be taped and a pair of boxing gloves to be slipped over her wrists and tied tightly.

"Punch it," Natasha ordered and Darcy gave a half hearted effort. She scoffed, "I know you have more than that in you. Punch the bag."

And so it went for several hours, Natasha urging her to hit harder and correcting her techniques lightly between steps until Darcy's body burned. When Natasha finally relented and pulled the gloves from her hands, Darcy had to sit gingerly on the floor just to keep from throwing up with the exertion of the exercise.

"We'll do this again tomorrow, don't bother going to the office. Just come straight here and get changed." At Darcy's confused look, she continued, "I've already cleared it with Coulson."

That seemed to be that. For several weeks, Natasha would teach Darcy how to punch and kick and stretch until the ache in her body masked the ache in her heart and mind. Surprisingly, she began to look forward to the sessions, her body beginning to recognize the exercise and release endorphins to accompany the work out. Darcy would move on from the bag to working with Natasha hand to hand, though the more experienced agent would inevitably go easy on her.

One day, when Darcy was on the floor, too tired to go on, Natasha blindsided her. "You want to talk about Loki."

Darcy jerked upright so fast that her head spun, "What?"

"Talk about it, Darcy," Natasha urged, her pale eyes entreating her.

Defensive, Darcy replied with a short, "There's nothing to talk about. He's gone."

"He is gone, but you aren't."

Shoving her body through the ropes of the ring, Darcy paced away to grab her towel and wipe the sweat from her face. "I know that."

"Do you? Seems to me like you went right along with him the way you've been acting." Her tone was soft, but the words struck home far more easily than any overt verbal barb.

"What the fuck would you know about it?" Darcy hissed lowly, her anger rising despite their familiarity and tentative friendship.

Natasha smiled gently, "I know all about loss, and the guilt you're feeling is only going eat at you until there's nothing left." She sat down on the bench facing her, "I didn't know him very well, but he didn't seem the type to want you pining for him down here. Especially when he may never recover from the coma."

Darcy stared her down for a long time, feeling her heart cracking open in her chest, "I miss him."

"I know. Honestly, I'm sure surprised you haven't filled Coulson's office with fifties blues and emo-rock medleys."

Shaking her head with the smallest of smiles, Darcy continued, "I haven't even had one dream about him, not one. And there are no pictures, Shield has locked all the video feeds—it's like he didn't even exist, like I never knew him. I still feel him, though, all the time."

At this, the dam holding Darcy's emotions in check shattered and she began sobbing into her taped hands. Natasha watched her cry, letting Darcy carry herself back to composure over a long period of time. Then, she stood and addressed Darcy with a firm tone.

"Tomorrow you go back to work for Coulson. I don't want to see your self-destructive behavior continue, or I'll kick your ass back in here and we'll start all over. Clear?"

Darcy nodded, feeling all of a sudden quite grateful for the literal and metaphorical can of whoop ass that had been unloaded on her over the last few weeks. She gradually went back to wearing her skirts and heels to work in an effort to bring her mind back to some form of normalcy, and even managed to edge her way inside the pizzeria for a little slice of heaven. It had been a year since Loki had disappeared into the cosmos, and she was finally recovering from the sudden and heartbreaking loss of someone who had opened the doors to her soul through electrified magic and easy, charming smiles.

It was then that Darcy had her first dream about Loki; the pathways of her mind finally open to his presence and memory. She was lying in her bed and the room was bathed in darkness so complete that she couldn't see more than a few feet in front of her. It didn't occur to her at first that she would be dreaming, but as she turned over in an attempt to get more comfortable, Darcy caught sight of Loki sprawled next to her beneath the sheets. He looked similarly confused as to why his presence had manifested in her bed, but only for a short moment. Then, he was smiling widely, reaching out to gather her against him in a fierce hug.

"I have missed you," he whispered hoarsely, his face pressed against the skin of her neck.

Darcy swallowed back tears, knowing that she could cry later and this was a time for smiles and happiness. "Missed you, too. Not that I'm complaining, but how did you get here?"

Loki's eyes glanced towards the ceiling, his dark brows coming together in thought, "I have no idea."

"Maybe you're getting better," Darcy nearly exclaimed, hope springing forth unintentionally. "Did you wake up?"

"No," he replied softly. "I hear things, Thor visits occasionally, but I cannot wake."

Thinking rapidly, Darcy ran through a couple of ideas that ranged from comic books to sci-fi to Disney story lines, coming up with nothing to help him along. "I'm dreaming, right?"

Loki shrugged, "Possibly. Do you feel like you're dreaming?"

"I can't tell," she replied. Pressing her hands to his chest and arms, she ascertained that he wasn't exactly a ghost. "You feel real enough."

"Thank you," he replied with a chuckle. "I must say I am glad to conscious again."

Darcy narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious, "Are you really here?"

His response was a proud expression and a pursing of his mouth, "I see Coulson has been working on your inherent trusting nature."

She rolled her eyes, "Coulson actually handed me off to Natasha for about two and a half months."

His eyebrows rose to his hairline, "Really? Well done, Coulson. I thought he might never let your training go to another."

Darcy shrugged, settling down into his embrace and pulling the covers up to her chin, "I don't think he had much of a choice. I wasn't exactly responsive to normal procedures."

"I am sorry," Loki replied lowly. "It was necessary to expend all of my magic to defeat Lucan, and it would also be necessary to do it all over again even knowing the consequences." His voice faded near the end of his apology, leaving Darcy scrambling for a reply and unable to speak as she hurtled back towards wakefulness.

Darcy woke feeling less rested than when she had gone to sleep and in the grogginess, she automatically reached out to the empty space beside her. Confused, she rubbed at the sheet, feeling no residual heat or impression from the mattress that would have signaled that Loki had been there the previous night. She tried and failed to suppress the slowly growing disappointment that rose inevitably in her chest. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, Darcy ran a shower, her mind running over the strange dream a few times and wondering if it was simply a product of her letting go of his memory or if he was actually in her mind. She was willing to believe either side of the argument at this point, given the fact that she had been show first hand Loki's magical abilities.

At the office, Darcy allowed herself to interact with her coworkers on something more than a superficial level and in the next week she actually went down to speak with Jane on her lunch. Every night, however, she went to bed hoping to catch another glimpse of Loki, even if it was just a false memory born of her longing for him. She wasn't the kind of girl to pray, and it irked her that she always seemed to be the one chasing the man down, but before bed as she lay staring at the ceiling Darcy whispered to the darkness her need to see him again.

On day seven, she wound up sitting on a mattress that had to be made of rainbows and marshmallows because it conformed to her curves with such perfection that she never actually wanted to set her bottom on any other surface, ever. As she observed the room around her, Darcy became quite aware that she wasn't in Kansas anymore, and probably not anywhere within the city—possibly nowhere on earth. The walls were glowing with latent power that she could feel in bone deep resonations that skittered along her nerves, near setting them on fire. The floors hummed with power, and the room radiated with flows of magic that called out to her on every level. It was so indescribably good to feel magic surrounding her once again.

Movement in her periphery turned her attention and there was Loki, sitting up against a pile of pillows, smiling at her curiously.

"This is becoming my favorite habit," he said, reaching out to haul her to his side.

Darcy went willingly, her eyes scanning the lavish accommodations, "I guess we're at your place this time."

"Indeed," Loki replied. "How did you manage it?"

"Manage it?" Darcy crowed, "I did nothing of the sort and I'm blaming you for dragging me through dream worlds to babysit."

He scoffed in mock insult, "Well, if you're so unhappy to visit with an invalid, I would be happy to send you back."

Drawing away with a gasp, Darcy rolled her eyes, "You'd miss me, I guarantee it."

"Yes, I would," Loki said carefully, running a hand through her curls. "How long has it been?"

"A week," she replied quickly, "I haven't told anyone—do you think I should try to contact Thor?"

An elegant shrug shifted against her body, the lean muscles rolling in the motion. "I suppose you should."

Picking at the buttons of his sleep shirt, Darcy wondered aloud, "Do you think it means anything? I mean, it's been a year and all of a sudden I can speak with you when I sleep, obviously something changed. And we have the affinity thing going for us, but why now? Why a year later?"

Loki shook his head warily, "I cannot answer those questions, Darcy. All I know is that I have been in darkness, save for the moments I spend with you."

Sighing deeply, Darcy lifted to sitting, running her hands through her hair, "What if I can't fix it? What if all I can do is see you here, and you're stuck in la-la land for the rest of ever?"

Wrapping his arms around her form, Loki pressed his nose to the skin behind her ear, "We will deal with that when it comes. Speak with Thor, and come see me again soon. You have no idea how incredibly dull it is listening to the sounds of maids cleaning the room around me for hours on end. Although the gossip is infinitely better when they think you cannot hear them."

Much like the last time, Darcy woke feeling worse than when she went to sleep, her mind whirring with the fading dream and the new mission before her, filling her with a sudden and unexpected determination. Squinting against the lights of the room, Darcy trudged to her desk and waited for Coulson to show. He had a habit of coming in at varying times throughout the morning whether from a morning meeting or from a mission that ran far too long, but he never failed to show by half past ten and it was nearing that time when Darcy began to feel slightly anxious. Tapping her pencil against the notepad, Darcy alternated between watching the door and watching the clock while making failing attempts at performing her job functions.

Finally, Coulson strolled into the office with long, confident strides that she had begun to associate with a mission gone right, Darcy jumped to attention immediately, wringing her hands together as she waited for him to get situation so that she could bombard him with lots of new information that she probably should have told him two weeks ago. It was water under the bridge, as far as she was concerned, because none of it had seemed worth speaking about—and, to be honest, she liked having that private secret all to herself a little too much. The little secret, however, had now become an imminent need that required she begin to bring the rest of the team in on it, especially Thor.

"So, Agent Bossman," Darcy began tentatively, "I kind of need help."

Coulson looked up at her from over the rim of his coffee cup, holding her gaze before setting the cup down gently, "Do I need to kill someone?"

"No!" She exclaimed in response, "It's really not that bad, but then it kind of is, and maybe I should have told you sooner. But, I didn't know what to do and I was totally unprepared to see Loki again."

On her next inhale, Coulson interrupted, "You've seen Loki?"

She shrugged, "In a really weird, unintentional I might add, way."

"How?"

"We're apparently sharing dreams because that's what happens when someone goes into a coma," she answered sardonically.

Coulson almost cracked a smile, and Darcy took it as a minor victory while fighting the urge to whip out her phone and take a picture for posterity's sake. He considered her admission for several long minutes, and then tapped out something unseen on his computer. Rising, he stepped around his desk and sat back on it, folding his hands across his chest.

"Tell me everything," he said.

Darcy rolled out with the story, leaving a few details out (such as the fact that their meeting place of choice seemed to be their respective beds). Then, she moved on to her thoughts on maybe seeing if Thor could be contacted to see if there had been movement on the other side. Coulson pursed his lips for a moment, pulling his phone out of his pockets and speaking in low tones to someone dialed on the other side.

"Okay," he sighed, straightening invisible wrinkles on his suit. "I'm having someone contact Asgard and hopefully we will hear something soon." His expression, when it finally settled on her hopeful face, was curious. "How are you?"

Darcy thought about it for a moment, wondering what the most appropriate response should be. She settled on a shrug, "I'm okay."

"Are you really?" He asked, his gaze direct and a little suspicious.

"Absolutely," she replied a little too quickly. "I mean, it's pretty messed up but I'm getting used to this kind of stuff being the status quo around here."

Coulson very nearly rolled his eyes, "Try working here for the better part of your life, then talk to me about status quo. I'm glad you're alright, though. You took his injury pretty hard."

"I know," Darcy whispered, "Still not sure this isn't a figment of my imagination."

Shrugging, Coulson shoved from his desk, "We'll find out soon enough."

They didn't find out soon enough—in fact, it took two whole days of waiting for Darcy to get any kind of news that Thor had been contacted and even then the message was scant. She sighed as she read through the email again, leaning back in her chair and propping her heeled feet on the computer tower below her desk. Anxious for their next move, Darcy examined the finer details of the ceiling tiles while she ran through what would happen when she saw him next. In one fantasy, he was alive and regaining strength; in another, he was still lying half dead in that glamorous, shining bed of pillows. Neither seemed particularly palatable, but she allowed each to run a course of options, wondering if things would go back to the way they were before the fight or if their relationship had been irrevocably changed.

So caught up in her thoughts, Darcy failed to hear her name the first three times Coulson called out to her from the door. When the words finally rang through, she jerked to attention.

"Follow me," he said, spinning from the doorway.

Sliding out of the seat, Darcy skipped a few steps until she had caught up with him, taking her regular position at his side in the elevator. Unexpectedly, they were heading to the lowest floor of the building, a floor that had security clearance so far above her head that Darcy may never see it again after this instance. She, therefore, made a mental note to memorize everything that happened as soon as she stepped out into the room.

The 'awe' in awesome hit Darcy with such force that she had to step back into the elevator for a moment, lest her eyes melt inside their respective sockets. The room glowed with bright electrical power, painted in shining swaths of color that spread out in prismatic shapes all over the walls and floors. At the center of the room, set deeply into a pit of steel and concrete, stood a large circular structure that shuddered rhythmically. Stepping out into the room, Darcy forced her gaping mouth to close, swallowing back the flood of questions as Coulson led her to a dock of monitors.

Bent over one of the screens, Darcy recognized the petite body of Jane, five pens stuck haphazardly in her ponytail and her brow furrowed in concentration. When her attention finally drifted upwards, she smiled widely at Darcy, urging her former assistant over.

"I'm so excited that you finally get to see this," she whispered.

Darcy blinked, whispering similarly, "What am I seeing?"

Eyes sparkling, Jane replied simply, "The Bifrost."

Brows hitting her hairline, Darcy glanced over at Coulson, who was leaned over the console, tapping out instructions to the program. From the center of the room, the structure began to hum and whir with power and Darcy was struck with the knowledge that she was going to be seeing something that few others had seen. She was going to witness the opening of a portal between the realms, a gateway to other dimensions. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the theme for the Twilight Zone played softly and ominously enough that she began to feel a little more than nervous.

The structure buzzed, filling with a light so intense that Darcy had to hide her eyes behind her hands and hair, squeezing them shut to protect her sensitive corneas. The air thickened with static, sending shockwaves through the ground at her feet, the vibration tickling them through her heels. It continued for only five or six seconds before the light faded and the room quieted to peaceful calm. Lifting her eyes, Darcy scanned the room for explanation, bewildered when she caught sight of Thor striding confidently towards her.

With a girlish squeal, Jane shot forward into Thor's arms and Darcy was warmed at the sight of her friend's happiness. Thor embraced Jane tightly, his face soft with the affection he seemed to feel so deeply for her. Then, his eyes opened and focused on Darcy and she knew that he knew about her new encounters and was expecting an explanation of some kind. With the little bit of time she had left, Darcy racked her brain to see if she could come up with some kind of logical, cohesive idea about the how and why of sharing dreams with a demi-god. Fretfully, she came up with zilch.

Thor released Jane, allowing her feet to once again touch the ground, "Lady Darcy, it seems we have much to discuss."

Feeling a little shy, Darcy averted her gaze, "Um, yeah, about that."

"Worry not," he assured her, a heavy hand falling on her shoulder, "I've no expectation of you other than your story." Thor leaned down, "You have given me hope for my brother."

They sat in a private study, Coulson discreetly texting on his phone nearby, while Darcy relayed her slightly edited story to Thor. He considered her words, leaning heavily into the plush armchair while she spoke. At the end of it all, there was a silence so long and awkward that Darcy began to think that maybe Thor had begun to think she lost her mind. When he finally, finally, spoke, however, Darcy could feel the tension being relieved from her chest as a physical weight.

"When the Son of Coul spoke to me of your dream sharing with my brother, I visited our library intent on discovering the source. Affined pairs, Lady Darcy, are not common amongst the realms and the sharing of power, no matter how small, leaves a mark so deep it cannot be removed by mortal means." He sighed deeply, "I believe Loki is reaching out through you, through your affinity, and I hope—with your permission, of course—to bring him back with it."

Darcy's jaw went slack for the second time that day, knowing that she had no magical power of her own and had been possibly sapping Loki during their exchanges. And, hadn't Loki said that affinity was normal? She closed her mouth with an audible click, thinking about the level of skill that would be necessary to even attempt the task.

"Dude," she replied earnestly, "I'm no Criss Angel."

Okay, so only a little interaction here, but I promise, promise, promise there will be more next chapter.