A/N: Yay! next chapter as promised! it may not be early but at least it's on time. I hope you all enjoy this one even if it's emotionally charged.


Darcy woke the next morning with a splitting headache and unaware of where she was exactly. It took a while for her hazy mind to recall last night, the party, the letters, but when she did, she groaned, wishing for nothing more than to sleep and forget, but knowing it was impossible. Once she was awake, she was up for the day, and craving coffee. Stumbling out of bed, she made her way over to the doors, quickly shielding her eyes when she stepped out into the blindingly bright room.

"Ah, she lives," a far too familiar voice said, sounding amused.

"What are you doing here?" she groaned, daring to peek open one eye. The room was much dimmer than when she first came out, the shades having been drawn. She sighed in relief, uncovering her eyes and sitting next to the God of Lies on the couch. For a moment they just sat in silence, Darcy attempting to suppress her hangover migraine and Loki apparently doing the crossword…in Italian.

"Breakfast?" he suggested after a moment.

"Yeah, sure…but again, what are you still doing here?" she asked, blinking open her eyes again to find a tray of goodies on the table in front of her.

"You departed rather abruptly from the gala last night and I was curious as to what was bothering you," he explained. Darcy's eyes fell to the open envelope, eyeing the letters she knew she hadn't folded neatly last night.

"You read them." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes."

"You had no right." Her voice was all venom as she glared at him. He was taken aback for a moment by the malice in her voice before recovering.

"Well it's too late to take it back now. I do have a few inquiries though," he shrugged, choosing to ignore the girl's glare.

"Well I don't see what's stopping you from asking," she finally grumbled, taking a large bite out of an apple.

"Considering the topic of conversation, I thought it appropriate to ask for permission this one time instead of forgiveness," the man next to her said.

"Fine, but if I'm going to be talking about my shitty family life, you have to as well," she demanded. Loki tensed up, anger quickly rising. How dare she demand that of him? Looking back at the letters on the table and then to his mortal's apprehensive expression he sighed, knowing it was only fair.

"Fine."

"Good, first question to you I guess," she half growled, curling up on the couch and turning to face him. Loki tried to ignore the fact that she was in nothing but her underwear and a men's shirt, but it was difficult when those long legs were on display and she was wearing his colors. His eyes drifted over her form quickly before he looked her in the eyes to ask his first question.

"I suppose I'm most curious about the relationship between you and your father," he drawled, unsure if he even really wanted to know this. He knew he was already becoming attached to the girl, drawn in by her sarcasm and quick tongue. If he knew just how similar they were, how would he feel about her then? But it was too late to take back the words, his pride wouldn't let him. The girl sitting across from him let out a long suffering sigh before glowering at him again.

"Ok, so, my parents didn't exactly plan on having me first of all, but they were great parents, at least, my mom was. When I was about four or five I started clueing in that my family life wasn't all peaches and cream. Dad would come home drunk and then drink some more. He'd get violent, hit my mom once or twice. He never touched me but, the shouting and the breaking stuff was bad enough. It got worse too. During the day when he was sober, he was like, the world's greatest dad or something. He would play with me and tell me stories. He took me to the park and the carnival when it was in town. It was like…he really loved me or something.

"Then he goes and does a Jekyll and Hyde. He would say he was just having a small drink, just one beer or something. Well, one turned into three, and a beer became a bottle of vodka. He would say things about me and mom, stuff I didn't get at the time, but now that I'm older, I wish I hadn't heard him say. He was like that until I was six years old. I remember he came into my room looking like hell and he said that he couldn't take me to the park tomorrow. I asked him why but he just sighed, hugged me and left. It was just me and mom after that. We didn't hear from him, didn't try to find him, nothing.

"Mom passed away when I was sixteen and I was left on my own. I have some aunts and uncles, even some cousins, but we were estranged from the rest of the family. They didn't want anything to do with me. So with my dad MIA and mom gone I was put into foster care. Two years I bounced around from house to house, living with a different family almost every two months until I was eighteen. After that I used whatever money I had earned and inherited in addition to scholarships to put myself through school. I got that internship with Jane and the rest I'm sure you pretty much know." By the time she was done talking, Darcy had fresh tears spilling down her face and she looked like she wanted to break something. To his credit, Loki gave her time to compose herself before speaking.

"I did not realize that your father was…like that," he said awkwardly after a moment. She choked out a bitter laugh, dropping her half eaten apple back onto the tray as she stood to pace.

"What? You didn't think my father was a complete bastard?" she yelled pausing in her stride long enough to give him a cold look. Loki didn't rise to her anger, instead, remaining calm for once.

"If he left when you were so young, how did he know where to send the letter?" the god asked after a moment.

"The internet I'm sure. As a hugely influential liaison I need to have some form of contact information available. SHIELD has a website that looks like any other government webpage just…less info about what they do. My information is on there. I'm sure with some internet searching 'daddy dearest' found me," she growled.

"And what of this illness he died of?" Loki inquired, easing away from the topic of her family past.

"Liver cancer is when the liver becomes diseased and it can be from a multitude of reasons. For my dad, it was because he was an alcoholic. The body can't function without that organ and so when it stops working, the body shuts down," she explained, falling back down onto the couch, looking worse than when she first emerged from her room. Loki, for his part, knew that she had reached the end of her patience and was done talking about it for now. The odd tugging feeling in his chest, which he thought would cease with his curiosity sated, instead became more insistent. Was it sympathy? He supposed it was. He and this girl were more alike than he ever cared to admit and he did not like the thought of being comparable with a being lesser than him. They remained silent for a few long moments, each strewing in their own unpleasant thoughts, until Darcy decided to break the uneasy stillness.

"Ok then dude. I've shared my horrid past, it's your turn," she told him, looking at the god expectantly. He eyed her warily, unsure how much Thor had told these little mortals.

"What has Thor said to you?" he demanded. The brunette looked taken aback by the harsh words, but shrugged it off, thinking of what little information she had on the green-eyed god across from her.

"Well he told me you were sort of adopted. Honestly I didn't get much because my usual eavesdropping skills have been compromised by my actual important job at SHIELD now," she shrugged.

"So my idiot brother never actually told you anything?" Loki looked surprised by the fact.

"Nah, he told Jane, and as I sort of said, I was listening in but I didn't get the whole conversation because I had to be in China in the next few hours," she sighed, looking upset that she hadn't been able to get the whole discussion. The put out expression brought a slight smile to Loki's face, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. He was not looking forward to the impending conversation and the girl's likely reaction of running from him screaming for Thor.

"I suppose in a sense I am adopted," he muttered, leaning forward to avoid her curious blue gaze.

"From another realm, right?" she asked for clarification.

"Yes, it is a place called Jotunhiem. It is a frozen wasteland much like your Arctic Circle I suppose," he described.

"I heard somewhere that people from there are blue…but you aren't. Why?" her question caught him off guard. Loki did not like the feeling of being caught unawares and tensed, wanting to strike out whether with words or magic he wasn't sure. He turned to her, sharp words on the tip of his tongue, but they died in his throat as he saw the unabashed curiosity on her face. It was such a childlike expression that he could not find it within himself to reprimand her. He let out a long suffering sigh, not missing the triumphant smirk on her face as she inched closer.

"I do not know why I indulge your strange requests of me. You are a simple, rather unremarkable mortal, not worthy of my time," the god muttered, running his hands through his hair.

"Then why approach me at all?" she countered. He scowled, not even knowing the answer to that himself. He knew he needed someone with access to the Avengers, but there were a multitude of others he could have chosen to assist him. He could not say with any sort of certainty what made her stand out as more useful than any other, intriguing personality aside.

"My dear girl, I approached because your assistance was necessary in my little plot," he smirked, the lie rolling off his tongue easily. She looked at him questioningly and he got the feeling that she knew he was lying, which should have been impossible. He was the God of Lies for a reason. However, she decided to let it slide. She fell silent which Loki had learned quickly was not a pleasant sign. When she suddenly jumped up from her seat he flinched, surprised by the quick movement. He watched curiously as she disappeared into her room and listened to her rummaging around.

"Ah-ha!" she yelled, sounding like a child who has just found candy. She came back into the room, looking quite devious. The god narrowed his eyes at her, wondering what she was holding behind her back.

"I do not like nor trust that look of yours girl. What is it you went to find?" he demanded, sitting straighter and ready to distance himself should she do something undesirable. He was just glad that she couldn't possibly have any of that frosting substance with her.

"I'm just curious about something," she answered innocently, her voice rising in pitch slightly, making her sound even more childlike. He arched an eyebrow, giving her a half amused, half curious look. Without another word Darcy settled herself on his lap, facing him, with a jar of something in her hand, ignoring how he tensed at the action. She quickly spun the lid off the jar, dipped her fingers in and attempted to smear the gel-like substance across his cheek. Having learned from the first experience, Loki was ready and grabbed her wrist, albeit gently, stopping her from putting the blue substance on his face. He narrowed his eyes at her wide-eyed look of surprise.

"Dare I ask what you have tried to put on my face this time?" he growled, eyes darkening in anger. The girl in his lap paid no mind to his ire, simply holding up the jar.

"Hair gel?" he read, eyes going from the label to her mischievous blue eyes.

"I was curious what you would look like if you were blue. Granted this probably isn't the best, but its close enough," she shrugged, starting to wipe to goo off her fingers onto a nearby discarded shirt. Loki's annoyance was quickly transforming to rage and Darcy recognized she probably over stepped her boundaries. Before she could sincerely apologize and get away, the god grabbed both her wrists in an almost painful grip, drawing them both to their feet, his form towering over hers.

"Do you dare to mock me mortal? You speak of things you do not know with such ease. You know not of the horrors Laufey invited to Jotunhiem or the wrath with which Odin and Thor attacked the Jotun. War breeds monsters Miss. Lewis. To the Asgardians, the Jotun are the creatures that haunt children's nightmares. The frost giants are abominations to be feared. I was raised with the belief that those frozen creatures were lesser beings, no better than animals. For centuries I thought myself above them. Imagine finding out you are the thing you hate. Could you joke about it then child?" he ranted, dropping her wrists in favor of gripping her shoulders hard enough to bruise. She whimpered at the feeling of his hands digging into her skin, but she refused to drop her gaze from his, remaining defiant in the face of his near madness. Was this what he was like last year? Was this the kind of insanity that drove him to bring the aliens to Earth? Darcy thought as she watched his intense green eyes.

"I wouldn't mock you Loki. I might tease and joke, but I would never purposely be mean. I think I've had enough cruelty to last me a lifetime and I don't wish it on anyone else. I just wish you could see past the supposed monster," she told him, voice never getting above a whisper. His face contorted into a sneer. Releasing her, the god backed away.

"What do you know of monsters Miss. Lewis? Can you see past the evil?" he demanded, pacing the room agitatedly. That comment more than anything, sparked Darcy's anger. She had been patient, put up with his bizarre mood swings from playful to superior, remained calm in the face of his rage, but she would not put up with this.

"You know what I've dealt with Loki!" she screamed, throwing the letters at the surprised god, "My own father was a drunken bastard who would call me a whore's daughter almost every night when I was only five! You asked me if I could see past the evil. You asked what I know of monsters. I grew up with one for a father. I managed to deal with the fact that my own flesh and blood thought I was worthless. Despite everything that man did to my mother and me, I still loved him. I cried my heart out for a man I haven't seen or spoken to in seventeen years, a man that might as well have been a stranger. So yeah, I can see past evil, I also know what evil looks like. You, my friend, have severely misguided intentions fueled by centuries' worth of resentment. That doesn't make you evil, you just have bad ways of trying to get a good outcome," the girl gave a short, bitter laugh before storming back to her room and slamming the doors shut, leaving the stunned God of Mischief to think over her words.