Loki had guessed that Darcy would be unable to handle the drink he'd brought from Asgard the way she could that horrid canned beverage. Even that, weak as it was, he'd only seen her touch a handful of times. And yet, he'd somehow lacked the ability to foresee the events playing out before his eyes.
Darcy giggled like a mad thing when drunk.
He would be living up to his title to say that he hadn't expected the babble. But the giggling was disconcerting. His Darcy was not one for the high-pitched bubbling sound that now punctured her incoherent jokes. His Darcy was made for sharp cackles, ungraceful snorts, and ringing belly laughs that spread through crowds like flames.
He decided, even before she could prove his assumption of ill effects come morning, that he would save such gifts for Tony. Who could be conveniently left at Pepper's mercy after the drinking was done.
"Loki." She tittered even saying only his name. "Hi."
"Darcy, you've greeted me eight times this night already." He removed the thick cup from her hands yet again.
"No, I like it."
"I can see that."
She huffed and pouted at him. That he did not hand the drink back at the sight of her trembling lower lip was a sign of great personal growth. He would count such a feat as a great victory.
"You will make yourself ill." He set the drink on the side table.
"Loki. Loki. Is the horse story a real one? With the horse."
"You only have the courage to ask such a thing in this state?" She'd dissolved into laughter after a nearly shouted 'yes' and he could only sigh. "Would you like me to put on a film?"
"Swords."
He studied her face a moment, but her eyes were wide and hopeful. After a moment he rose and put on the one she'd claimed as a favorite. It had, at the very least, a fair amount of swordplay. When he resettled he removed her cup from her trickster fingers and drained it himself before handing it back. "I will hear no end of moaning about your head come sunrise as it is."
"I don't like you."
"Don't be ridiculous, Darcy. You are intoxicated. Not a child."
She laughed again and fell against his side. Her default position for watching her shows it seemed. She was still laughing in that way very unlike herself at the things she murmured under her breath. He lifted a book he'd stashed between sofa and table on a previous visit and resumed from where he'd marked. Or would have if he hadn't looked over to see her staring at him.
"You're a very sexy gazelle."
He magically transported the rest of the ale into Stark's kitchen.
Big update: I'm currently in the middle of an unexpected and rushed move. House hunting is done, but now I'm going to be handling movers in the already internet-less old house while the hubby takes care of paperwork and utilities and all those things in the new city. So this weekend's update is being posted early and I'm anticipating that next week will be skipped. All other fics are on hiatus until after the unpacking is under way. Thank you for understanding. You guys are amazing and I'll miss hearing from you. D: