I'M ALIVE! Man, you never realize how long it's been since you've updated until one of reviewers asks you if you got in a car accident X]
In all seriousness though, thank you Child of Asgard for showing your concern, you are such a sweet heart and I had no idea I'd been gone that long.
In less than ten days I start school again, so I'm not sure when the next time will be when I update, and my boss said J-O-B word so my internship might turning into me getting a full paying job. So, point of that story, I will be busy, but I really feel passionate about keeping this story alive and continuing it, but updates might be even slower.
I've also been whoring myself off to my parents to get them to buy me the 'Thor' DVD since it comes out in September six days before my birthday... I don't even know if I can wait six days to see Loki again...
Speaking of Loki, I hope he isn't too tragically out of character this chapter; personally I just see him as someone who's incredibly okay with his body and willing to show it off.
And guys, go listen to Maria Mena's 'He's Hurting Me', because I put it in this chapter while listening to it,but sadly words do not make sound and I realized that it's only when her voice is singing does it match the scene.
That is all, Hope you guys enjoy! Please leave a review to tell me what you think!
Sincer, D.o.t.B.
My minds moving a million miles an hour and all I can barely process is the fact that I'm moving, and apparently I'm moving fast. Air comes in and out of my lungs abnormally fast in giant breaths, my face scrunching up to something I can only assume is hideous as I try my hardest not to scream at the top of my lungs in blind rage.
Once I'm in my car and the door is slammed shut do I know that I have found my sanctuary.
"THIS IS NOT FUCKING OKAY." I temporarily lose control of my limbs and proceed to flail around in seizure like motions as flap my arms like I'm a bat flying around in broad daylight; the whole time hurling insults and cuss words at the invisible Coulson floating around in my head.
But I don't notice any of this, oh no, I'm too FUCKING PISSED OFF TO PAY THE FUCK ATTENTION TO FUCKING ANYTHING.
FUCK.
Gee, I sure hope my life was wearing a condom when it decided to FUCK ME OVER.
I wouldn't call it the rational side of me, but somehow half of my brain decided to work while the other half practically short circuited and blew my internal hard drive as slam the gas pedal flat against the floor. Teeth gritted I grind them to stop from screaming ballistic white noise into black, soundless, oblivion that is my complete idiotic existence.
(What is this I don't even fuck.)
I am Eminem and Bateman from American Psycho chopped up and boiled and slapped into a mother fucking blender and given tits.
(…)
(The second after I completed that thought I realized how crazy I sound.)
I try to calm down and slow down my mind and breathe, if only for the simplest of seconds, and pry my foot off the gas so I don't crash the damn car.
(And even if I do somehow crash, I'll just crash into a cactus.)
(And last time I checked cactuses don't count as people, so there's no guilt there.)
Man, have I listened to myself lately?
'Cuz I sound like a crazy shopping cart lady.
(Does this mean I can get a prescription for the best candy the doctors got?)
I need to stop sometime before I say any of this out loud.
You never fully realize how toe sucking insane you sound until you've said it out loud in front of friends considered more conservative-than-you, or polite co workers who find basic things like having a giant sock collection jaw dropping, or some very attractive my-body-is-ready guys.
Wait; speaking of attractive guys…
Where's Loki?
My eyes look up to check my rearview mirror to see if he's there, and by some off chance miracle I see him looking back at me; a cross between worry and fear etched into his ridiculously beautiful features.
"Is… Is it safe to speak now?" It's like he's crawling out of a bomb shelter…
"Yea... Yea, it's all good. I just had a lot of… 'complex feelings' for a moment there… Sorry." He slowly nods, adjusting to the situation, his eyes looking around him, while I turn the radio down so I can hear him better.
"What is this thing?"
"Oh, um, it's a car. It's errr-Midgard's version of horses."
"Do you still have horses?"
"Yea, but people normally use cars."
"Why don't you use horses?"
"Well, I guess it's because cars are more dependable in certain ways." That answer seems to suit him, because he's quite for a moment before launching off another question.
"What is the name of your noble car?"
"Starship Enterprise... But that's beside the point because most people usually don't name their cars…"
"And most 'people' don't usually have your eccentric tastes, I presume?"
(Yes, let's just call it 'eccentric'.)
(Not crazy, insane, or mentally unstable.)
(Nope, just eccentric.)
"Yea, yea they don't." I can't stop an awkward look from growing in full bloom on my face.
(I don't think anyone has ever said something more true about me than what he just said in my entire life.)
(I think that this is a sign that I need more friends…)
"Where is Starship Enterprise taking us?"
"Shopping."
…
"I don't see any food."
"Yea, there's no food here."
"I thought we were going food shopping."
"We'll get food later. I feel like clothes shopping right now." He turns to look at me with bland suspicion mixed in his expression. Suddenly he's eyes narrow slightly, liking he's putting together the pieces of a puzzle.
"You're nervous, and this is a knee jerk reaction to try and get rid of It." his face softens by a fraction, his voice filled with experience.
"It's not going to work and you're still going to have to make a decision eventually." I sigh and my face falls into my hands, knowing exactly what he's talking about.
"I don't want to talk about this. I just want to buy some clothes."
"Go ahead." I look up at him, and realize something completely oblivious that never dawned on me until this moment.
"Where did you get those clothes?"
"I'm a shape shifter; I didn't get them from anywhere."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm not wearing any clothes."
My brows furrow, my eyes explode, and my mind scrambles egg.
"WAHT."
"I'm not wearing any clothes…?"
(CANNOT COMPUTE.)
"…This is not accepted in public…" I whisper, staring at him with horror transfixed on my face.
I think I stared at him for a while, with a disturbed look on my face.
And he just stared back, looking like he just realized that he had disturbed the natural order of things.
"You are not allowed to be naked in public ever." My voice came out a lot deeper than I thought it would. I hook his arm around mine by the elbow and drag him to the men's section of the store, shaking my head the entire time, silently murmuring 'no' the entire way there.
(MUST NOT. IMAGINE LOKI'S. HALF NAKED BODY. THAT I SAW. THIS MORN-NING.)
Nuegh.
Forget it, the image is already there.
Mindlessly I start looking through some guy clothes that would look good on Loki.
(Then again I don't really have to try very hard to make Loki look good.)
"Hey, what size do you think you are?" He's standing there, studying the mall before him, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide and wandering. Once I've asked the question though his attention is back within milliseconds, quick firing an answer.
"I'm not quite sure." Then, once he's thought about it for a second longer;
"I am of average Loki size."
(Not gunna lie.)
(… This guy is kinda hopeless.)
"Would Loki size happen to be large, medium, or small?"
"What does it matter? Where's the seamstress?"
"Ohhhh, you're used to having your clothes specially made… Okay. Thought you were crazy for a second there."
"As if you have room to talk." His lips curve as he bows his head.
"Oh hush."
(Is that a smile? Does that count as a smile? Did I make him smile?)
GASP.
I MADE HIM SMILE.
FUCK YES.
DARCY WINS.
Must not celebrate yet, will wait.
Pay-shent-lee.
"Hmm." I circle him, my hand gripping my chin in contemplation, Loki's head turning to follow me, thankfully leaving me to size him up in uninterrupted thought.
(Ignoring his nice… majestic… toned… butt.)
You know, I usually do this better if…
"Can I?" His back is to me, but he sees me from the corner of his eye.
"Yes…?" I don't give him time to refuse when I suddenly wrap my arms around him in a tight hug. From what I can see of his profile he's shell shocked, and I feel his nails crudely digging into my wrist in the constriction of his grip.
"You don't get many hugs, do you?"
"What are you doing?"
"Let me go." Variants of anger swell in his skeletal frame
"Please…?" Just thought I'd put it out there as an afterthought.
Hesitantly he releases me, and I back away, trying not to act phased.
"You're about a small medium. So I'll get two sizes of everything you pick off the rack, and you can try on both and we can just get whatever fits you. And I'll make sure it's long enough to fit your height. Sound good?"
He just stares with slightly narrowed, reluctant green eyes.
He then proceeds to turn around decisively and walk away, leaving me completely stranded.
(Awesome.)
So of course I follow like the bumbling servant I've been reduced to.
(Even though it is my own damn fault.)
(Everything just feels better when I can blame it on someone else.)
He swoops around, and I gotta admit he's got some pretty good taste; he manages to find the changing room by himself, content to have me carry his clothes in ranging sizes of small and medium.
(Luckily he didn't grab a pair of pajamas… Which means I still have a good chance of seeing him half naked every morning.)
He's standing outside of his changing stall when he turns to me, clearly in a better mood than before; when I apparently pissed him off.
"Would you like to come in?"
I really shouldn't-.
"Sure."
(Business perks Darcy, business perks.)
Do you have any idea how hard it is to hide a grin when you know that you're about to see the body of possibly one of the sexiest Nordic gods?
I'll let you know that it is really hard.
(P-P-P-Poker Face, P-P-P-Poker Face.)
Once the door's closed I play the part of a gentle woman and cover my blushing face while he becomes butt naked and slips on the black briefs I grabbed.
(I only peaked a little bit… Over all I think I had a lot of self control considering the fact that I've been single for a while now.)
And no, I did not see…
(Oh man I can't even say that word right now.)
I am so flustered it is not even funny.
"Is this how it's supposed to look?"
"Yes." A squeaky turned on mouse has trapped itself in my vocal cords, that is the only reason my voice has this high of a pitch.
That is the only reason.
Nothing else.
"Darcy, yours hands are covering your eyes. I sincerely doubt you can see anything right now."
FUCK.
"Now stop acting like a child and move your hands before I do it for you."
Very. Flustered. Awkward. Sexual. FRUSTRATION.
(You know what, who gives a shit? I don't give a shit. Look at all the shits I don't give.)
(Fa lalala.)
So, I move my hands down my face so they aren't covering my eyes.
I am trying to be completely adult about this.
Okay, I used to be a bit of an artsy fartsy person; I've seen nude models.
I've had sex before; I've seen guys completely naked before.
I know the male anatomy.
But hot damn.
HOT DAMN.
Does not even describe.
This guy needs a warning label, because he is 95% unclothed in front of me.
Bare, fair skin, has been poured into the mold of his body; completing every curve of well trained muscles, to make them profoundly defined at every angle.
And it goes on forever.
Forever.
From the peak of his head down to his feet.
I mean, sure, he's still not looking all that healthy.
But he makes 'car accident' look damn sexy.
And well…
I melted, I softened, I combusted, I ignited, I froze, I exploded.
And of course gave an embarrassing little kid happy squeak.
"Yea it looks good everything looks good the world is good. And good. Everything is very good. I'm good. I'm good. Everything's good. But I need to shut up, so I'm gunna… But it looks good. You look good. I'm gunna stop talking now. Like, right now. Okay, I'm done. I'm done. Stopping now."
(I need to give that Craig's list killer my address the second I get home because I am acting like a fool in front of a God.)
My face is hot and probably beat red, my hands and ticking and flitting around, making it obvious that I'm nervous, and only now can I manage to round up more self control to stop myself from sexually violating him with my eyes.
By some miracle I hear something that sounds like someone trying not to laugh.
I look up at Loki, his mouth cultivating a poorly hidden smile, his hand slicking back dark locks, head turned towards the ground; all the while openly rolling his eyes in a theatrical gesture.
"Well, thank you for your input… I am going to try on some of the actual clothing now."
"Okay…"
(As if he needs my permission.)
So he tries on all his clothes, me only really paying 'polite' attention when he starts to take those clothes off; of course every damn thing looks good on him, as far as I'm concerned anything would look good on him, even a giant meat suit.
(GaGa be jealous.)
(Be. Jealous.)
So this is when I start picking up and carefully folding some of the clothes he already tried on, because I've been being polite and looking at the multicolored carpet for way too long; and I start noticing the price tags.
And to put it simply; I am on a low budget.
And to put it even more simply; with the money I have on me now, I would only be able to buy the briefs.
(Can I blame this on the economy?)
(Yes I can.)
(ECONOMY FAIL.)
"Hey, um, Loki? Funny story… I don't really have that much money on me right now so… We'll just remember all this stuff for next time, how 'bout that?"
('Next time' being when I actually get a job…)
"You mean to say that you don't have any currency at hand?"
(Fuck is he saying.)
"Umm, well… I have 'currency'; I just don't have enough of this 'currency'."
"That's not a problem."
"Um, yea. Yea it is."
"Can you show me the currency that you have?" I pull out a twenty for him to see.
He takes it and examines it for a moment before handing it back to me; leaving his hand to hover over mine when I suddenly feel the flutter of paper pouring into my hand.
Once he's done doing whatever it is that he just did, I pull my hand back and see several twenties all piled up in my hand.
I think my mouth just made a perfect 'O' shape while he smirks.
"I told you that it was not a problem."
"This… This is counterfeit… Loki, this is illegal, I could get arrested for this!" I say in a hushed whisper, but annunciating my words so he gets the idea that this is very bad.
"No one needs to know. This can just lie still between you and I."
"Someone's gunna find out and I am going to get sent to jail!" Of course I'm freaking out and almost hyperventilating while he's perfectly calm.
"If, by some bizarre event someone should find out, I have ways to deal with it." His hands clasp around my shoulders and he's instantly got my attention.
"Everything will be okay." Now he's the one giving volume to each word, leaving them to ring in my head and put aside any doubts.
"… I don't care what you say; I'm still gunna get arrested…" I mumble with my face towards the floor, eye brows pulled so tight I can feel the giant crease along my forehead.
"Then I'll break you out." He me a gives me a firm pat on the shoulder, that victorious smirk sliding into place, making me wonder if he actually means it.
(I'd have to beg Jane to bail me out…)
('Cuz Coulson's too damn legally strict about stuff like that.)
(…)
(Ffffffffffff Coulson.)
DON'T THINK ABOUT IT. DON'T THINK ABOUT IT.
I don't… know.
Loki's already gone and out the door heading over to the cash register before I can ask him what he'd do in my situation with S.H.I.E.L.D.
(Would asking him even be a good idea?)
(Hmm, I don't really see why not.)
(I mean it's not like he knows what S.H.E.I.L.D. really stands for or anything.)
(Right?)
(Right.)
…
I have been trying to distract myself for hours now.
Trying not to think about it. Trying not to make a decision.
(A decision I'll have to make eventually anyway.)
Truth is, I don't want to make this decision.
I just…
Loki's hidden himself in his own little corner of the world, leaving me to watch T.V. while never truly seeing the moving images on the screen.
I am a bee trapped in a glass jar.
Trying to break free, to resist in every possible way, but by the end of all my rebellious trysts I'm still trapped. Seeing the world move in slow motion around me; watching other bees as they work for their queen. I'm trying to work for my queen, but everything I do has no real meaning. I can try all I want; whatever I gather in the jar, whatever progress I try to make, it will never reach her. I am surrounded by the significant yet still manage to remain insignificant.
(Wow, might as well as play the violin along my wrists with a razor; I sound pretty damn emo.)
But… I can't-…
There is no cure for where my mind is stuck.
I find my iPod and play Maria Mena, and once I hear her practiced vocals expression her own pain and personal afflictions I can silently drown myself in the carpet.
I've never been confronted with my own thoughts,
They don't bother me when I'm alone.
Can you come over? Save me, because he won't stop.
Now get him off his fucking throne.
Caution the floor's wet in here, I've been crying.
I don't know why he seems convinced I'm lying.
I don't know what he's capable of doing,
but he's hurting me.
(Maria, we have nothing in common but your voice is so pretty and I am in mental paaaaaaain.)
(Ugh, what with Loki's strip tease, I would've thought today could've been a good day…)
('Cuz as far as I'm concerned, any day is a good day when you get a strip tease from a reasonably appealing guy.)
(A reasonably appealing guy who happens to make me go all 'MY BODY IS READY' every time he gives that sideways sultry look.)
(Which is not fair and would count as an attack move if life was a video game.)
"What are you doing?" I pull out my ear buds at the sound of his voice.
(Well look who decided to exist…)
"Trying to kill myself via smelly carpet." I turn my head to the side and look up at him.
"… And how is that working out for you?" He sits down next to me, folding his long legs close to his chest as he leans against the wall.
"Very well actually, I'm a ghost now." He gives a small sigh; for a moment there is only silence until he ruins it by bringing up exactly what I was trying to avoid.
"Have you decided upon what answer you are going to give Phil Coulson?" My face is back in the carpet.
"Wur knot having thes convurstation."
"Yes we are." I look back up at him again.
(What makes him so decisive all the sudden?)
"I am a ghost now, I don't have to worry about stuff like that." He has this look that says dear-god-I-am-dealing-with-a-child.
(I know this look well…)
"All mighty Ghost Darcy; please, let's be logical here."
"I don't need to be logical, I'm a ghost." His large hand floats down onto the small of my back, giving me some strange comfort.
"I just brought you back to life." He lightly places his hands along my shoulders and flips me over onto my back.
"NO." I try to flip back over onto my stomach but he pulls me up by my upper arms. Next thing I know I'm half sitting up awkwardly leaning against the wall next to the infamous Loki; giving him the best glare I can muster, his comforting touch instantly forgotten.
"Now, what compromise has been made?"
"I-… I don't know…" My voice is quiet and small, almost lost in the storm that's encased me, yet Loki still hears it beyond the chaos. My arms hold my legs to my chest, my face nuzzled against my knees, trying to stay away from Loki's truth burning eyes.
"That's a lie.
"You do know. You just want to pretend you don't, because your mind is not yet dedicated to the answer, and you want someone to talk you out of it. That way, should whatever you choose prove to be a fruitless endeavor, you have someone to blame; because people rarely chose to place the blame upon themselves, even when it is their fault." It's only when he pauses and our eyes clash do I realize my head has lifted to meet his line of sight.
"But, should what some outsider told you to choose turns fortunate, then they have room to take credit for your work. And what soul honestly wouldn't given the chance? But, if you made the choice by yourself, the credit for your own hard work belongs solemnly to you, as it should.
"Darcy, this could turn into something worth the while."
"It could turn into something that wastes my time, Loki."
"What are the down sides to accepting an opportunity such as this?"
"Um, I could get killed."
"You could also get killed going to the supermarket, but you risk that, don't you?"
"Bad guys are going to kick my ass."
"And you will learn from your mistakes and become a better agent as a result of it."
"I see no point in me becoming a secret agent."
"But you can improve yourself in ways you never thought of."
"I'll be practically useless working for S.H.I.E.L.D."
"No one's ever useless when they're working."
"I'm definitely not made to get a job working for S.H.I.E.L.D."
"People are never made for a job; a job is made for them."
"I'll be the new girl and people will make fun of me."
"Remember their insults and use it against them later in life."
"I don't know how to fight."
"I'll teach you."
"I don't think I should join."
"Doesn't matter what you think, what matters is if you act upon it."
"I'm too weird to work for the government."
"And I'm sure they'll enjoy your unique input."
"… I hate you."
"Only because I'm right."
(Asshole.)
…
I don't think I slept at all last night.
I am tired, tired, TIRED, and at work and Coulson sent some guy in a suit to walk me to meet him and I still don't know what to do, even though Loki claims that I do know what to do, but that's pointless because no matter what he says I still don't, and the world sucks, and I need coffee because I did not get sleep last night because everything is stupid and damn it I wish I was a ghost.
I see Coulson at the end of the hallway with his suit navy blue and his shirt blindingly white, looking into one of the interrogation rooms, waiting for me.
I keep walking to meet him, even when the agent he sent to get me stopped following me a while back.
When I'm side to side with Coulson I get even more nervous than I was before.
"Ms. Lewis."
"Philly cheese steak." He throws me a questioning look, but I miss it as I swallow what little spit my dry mouth still has.
The man that's to be cross examined is looking at pictures with shaking hands that move to swipe at the sweat pouring from his forehead.
I see Loki in there with him, standing by his side as he peers over and looks at the pictures to see for himself what's making this man tremble.
When he feels my eyes trickle over him he looks up, acknowledging me with a private nod and an encouraging smile.
"Do you have an answer?"
"Do you have any coffee?" He hands me over his cup of black coffee.
(Hallelujah.)
I take a giant swig of the stuff and try not to throw up.
(And it's not because of the taste…)
"Hey Coulson."
"Yes Darcy?"
"Where do I sign up?"