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This chapter is a bit special, so it's from both Loki and Darcy's point of view. Chapter 15 will go back to normal, with Loki.

...

In which Loki and Darcy discover the possibilities of eating Nutella in bed.

~~::::::...::::::~~

"I've never noticed this before," Darcy said, as she traced the lines of a tattoo running across Loki's back

He was lying on his stomach, his hands beneath a pillow, while she was on her side, propped up by her elbow.

Loki smiled lazily. "In these all too brief encounters of ours, I suppose we haven't been sufficiently unclothed enough for you to notice. Perhaps we should lie around naked more often. Who knows what we'll discover."

Darcy raised a brow. "I'm down."

She let her finger follow the pattern on his skin. "This is a labyrinth?"

"Yes."

"The style … it looks. Celtic? No … Viking?"

"Hm. They are similar. But yes, it is Norse in origin."

"It's beautiful."

He rolled over and took her wrist, held it up to his lips, and kissed the ink wrapping around her arm. "So are yours."

They didn't ask each other what their tattoos meant … as both knew all too well how personal such a story could be, and how when people ask, they're usually only vaguely explained in half-truths. They would wait, and admire, until a tale was offered up, unsolicited. Or perhaps not at all … sometimes something so permanent and painful was only meant for one person. A reminder of a covenant between yourself and some greater force. Not everything is meant to be shared.

~~*...*~~

Darcy became a great admirer of his hips. That spot. The indentations that ran from the bottom of his stomach in a "V" … leading the eye down. She kissed these marks, inhaling the scent of his skin, as she lowered her head further, while reaching up with her hands, and running her nails down his belly, to his thighs.

Loki really was very appreciative. And not shy … or quiet, in showing how very thankful he was. As she was going down on him, taking care to pay attention to every detail, he rewarded her with sobs of pleasure that would fuel her daydreams for years to come.

But then he tugged on her arm to come up for air. She looked at him with swollen red lips and he pleaded with her … though it was only a silent request. His eyes told her everything he wanted her to know … please, let me inside of you.

She climbed up his body and granted him entrance. His big hands splayed across her lower back, urgent. Darcy watched his face as she pressed against him, rocking them towards climax. He closed his eyes and for a few very glorious moments, he thought of nothing. He only felt. A meditation in pleasure.

Darcy saw that as Loki neared completion, that cute little tick she noticed at dinner, appeared on his face. The right side of his lower lip would dip down every so often. She smiled. This was the good stuff … learning all the little secrets.

~~*...*~~

"Tell me about your father."

They didn't want to pry about tattoos … but felt they were on a level in their relationship when it was permissible to ask about dead parents.

Darcy turned her head from where it was lying across his abdomen. "He died three years ago. One minute he was walking around, and the next minute he was gone. Brain aneurysm."

Loki brushed her hair off her shoulder. "So it was quick."

She nodded slightly. "He was at work … he'd gone back to the office, after having lunch at home. He always acted as if he liked his job, but I don't think he ever did. It was stressful … I knew that it took its toll. I don't think he was a born workaholic, like other lawyers."

"What makes you say that?"

Darcy smiled wistfully. "He was always happy. Or at the very least, trying to be. Always joking around. He said it was important to laugh every single day, even if you don't want to. Even if there's nothing to laugh about, you have to find a reason. He said … do something fun, something silly, for a laugh. If you have to do something you don't want to do … try looking at it from a different angle, until its something you want to do. For a laugh. It was kinda me and Jane's mantra during high school."

She laughed softly. "It's still our mantra, I suppose. I think it's why we're so weird. We were always trying to get each other to laugh … any way possible. As you've seen … sometimes we can be pretty … wrong. Horrible. Like, very un-PC. Jane really loved my dad too … her parents were kinda absent, emotionally unavailable. She spent a lot of time at our house, growing up."

Darcy looked down. "I know he was happy. He loved my mom, he loved us … but I don't think he really loved what he did. And it's always bothered me."

"What makes you say this?"

"Hm. Well, he was an amazing musician … had all these beautiful guitars. I don't think I ever saw him so happy, then while he was playing music. It seemed like … he was free, ya know? After a long stressful day at work, he go into his music room, and all the tension would go away. Music was what he loved to do, that's what made him happy. But the family …" Darcy shook her head. "I think he was convinced that making a living as a musician was impossible. He was supposed to be sensible. To achieve. To be successful. So he became a successful entertainment lawyer, surrounding himself with talented musicians … as his clients. The people doing what he really wanted to be doing."

"And what about your mother? Did she encourage his music?"

Darcy nodded. "Oh yeah. She just wanted him to be happy. She's always going on about Americans, about how we don't know how to chill. We live to work, she says … not work to live … that sort of thing. But she let him do what he wanted."

"Is she happy as an art dealer?"

She smiled. "Yep. As a clam. She's a natural-born dealer … can talk you into anything."

Loki laughed. "Hm. I'm sure."

"Tell me about your mother."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "She was beautiful. Too beautiful for the world, too good. She died in a car accident. A little over a year ago, now."

Darcy looked on in sympathy. "That's not that long ago."

"No," he said, quietly. "But I hadn't seen her in almost a year, when it happened."

"Where were you?"

"Self-exile. Putting myself back together. Bruce sent me to a place that he knew of. I was in a Buddhist monastery for a little while, detoxing, kicking heroin. I stayed there for a bit. Then I went to India … lived in an ashram … lived very simply, forgot who I was for a time. But while I thought it was a noble thing, going away for awhile, severing ties … it wasn't. It was still selfish … no one knew where I was. Bruce had to find me. She had died weeks before I found out about it … I missed her funeral."

"But you came back?"

Loki nodded slowly. "I did. With Bruce. But being back in town … and the stress ... I nearly had a relapse. All that discipline and hard work down the drain, in two seconds flat. You have no idea how terrible it was, detoxing in that monastery. They give you a concoction that makes you vomit. Over and over again. And there is nothing for the pain. No Tylenol. Certainly no methadone. It was scary how willing I was to wipe all that way, with one tiny dose."

"But you didn't."

He shook his head. "No. I did not. Instead, I left again. Fled to New York, then London. And I was there until Father had his heart attack."

"And you came back for your dad."

"I didn't do it for him."

"Why, then?"

"For her, for my mother … I know she would have wanted me to. For now on, I always hope to do what she would have wanted me to."

Darcy frowned. "What's with you and your dad?"

Loki shrugged. "We don't have the best history … but I used to blame him for everything. Everything that went wrong in my life was his fault."

"And you don't anymore?"

"No. I've come to view him as a sad old man. We create our own lives."

Darcy smiled. "Hn. I think the way it should go is … 'our own lives, we create,' Master Yoda."

He laughed. "I did meet some very Yoda-like individuals in my travels. Though they were not tiny and green, sadly."

"So is that where you got your Yoda wisdom? India?"

Loki smiled. "Some of it. I studied Eastern religions while I was there. I learned about gods and goddesses, like Annapurna, the deity in your kitchen." He reached down and rubbed her back. "In fact, you are my Annapurna … she gives strength and nourishment to the gods."

She laughed. "Are you calling yourself a god?"

He shook his head. "No. But you do nourish me. In so many different ways."

~~*...*~~

It didn't take much. One brush of the inner thigh … one touch to the hip, the breast … one innocent kiss, and they were lost again. Loki was impossibly graceful in his movements … and preternaturally coordinated. He could pay attention to her breasts while pressing inside … he didn't just stick his face in the pillow beside her, rutting until something interesting happened. He paid attention, he could go slow, take his time.

Darcy rewarded him by wrapping her legs around him … she knew he liked it. The way he moaned into her mouth as she locked her ankles together. She had him.

~~*...*~~

"So why did you go to a monastery for detox, or rehab, or whatever. Why not one of those places in Malibu, by a beach?"

Loki shook his head. "Those places never would have worked on me. Maybe they would have for a little while, but not for long. I knew I needed something extreme. It's usually what I need."

"And Bruce took you there?"

"He'd been there. For his own reasons."

Darcy lie with her head on Loki's chest, his arm around her, their legs tangled. She drew a circle around his belly button with her finger.

"You don't have to tell me … but how did you get started on heroin?"

She could feel his breath deepen. "It was after my father's first heart attack. About three years ago. I just kind of … snapped. It was a long time coming, looking back on it."

"You lost it?"

He chuckled. "Yes. I lost it. I found something out. Something big. A great lie they'd told me, all my life."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault."

"I'm just sorry that it happened. I know how terrible it is to be lied to. To your face."

He ran his fingers through her hair. "Yes, well … after his heart attack, my mother, Thor, and I … we all donated blood. As is custom, they told us. I learned that my blood type wasn't compatible with his. With any of theirs. They couldn't possibly have been my parents."

"Whoa."

"Yes."

Darcy looked up at him. "I always wondered why you and Thor looked nothing alike … except you're both really flipping tall. I always thought you must've looked like your mom. I've seen pictures of your dad, like in University stuff. Thor looks like him."

Loki shook his head. "No, I didn't look anything like her either. I always knew … somewhere, I knew."

"So they adopted you?"

He nodded his head. "Yes. From some war-torn Eastern European country. I've never researched the details. I only know that I was abandoned, found in the snow … next to a tree, wrapped in blankets. I ended up in a makeshift hospital, where my mother happened to be working with one of her charities."

"Like in The Joy Luck Club."

"What?"

"You know … The Joy Luck Club. One of the moms from the story, in China … she was a refugee and knew she was going to die, so she left her babies by the side of the road, with all of her money, everything she owned, hoping someone more able would take care of them."

"Hm."

Darcy could tell that he'd never thought of it in that way.

"So … you didn't like being adopted."

"I didn't like being lied to."

"That's understandable."

"It all just made sense … why Father always preferred Thor over me. Thor was his natural born son. I was just some … poor child."

Darcy wanted desperately to disagree with him, but she kept her mouth shut, quite astonishingly.

"It didn't matter what I did. The perfect grades I got. Hell, I published a book at sixteen, that actually became quite popular, though I received no recognition for it. Only royalty checks. And my father was proud … my mother was over the moon. But after Thor became the star of Asgardia's football team, with talks of Heisman Trophies, the whole being-published-at-sixteen thing was not so big an accomplishment. And Thor was able to be recognized for his greatness. After a few years, I published Utter Brilliance ... and it soared, it took off, it had my real name on the cover. It won awards … but then, Thor won a Super Bowl."

Loki sighed. A long sigh of pain. "There was nothing on Earth that I could do."

Darcy gave his torso a squeeze with her arms, not sure what to say.

"And then there was a girl."

Darcy laughed. "There's always a girl."

"Well, this girl, she was a friend. When we moved here, I was about fifteen, and she was in my class. We became close, she was a bit of a tomboy … we were always getting into some kind of trouble."

"Was she your girlfriend?"

"No. She was only ever my friend. From the first time she saw him, she was always in love with Thor. I could see it … she was over at our house one day, after school, and she met him. And that was it."

"But you loved her first."

Loki nodded.

"What happened to her?"

He laughed. "Well, Sif was very much the tomboy, and much more muscular than me … so of course, she became the only female kicker in college football, at the time. She's much better friends with Thor now. You might recognize her … she's on ESPN, one of the only female commentators."

Darcy shook her head. "I don't watch ESPN. So did her and Thor ever hook up?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think so. It was one big triangle of unrequited love. But she was in town, that week of Father's heart attack. She stayed by Thor's side the entire time, like I didn't exist, like we were never friends."

"I'm sorry, Loki."

"I felt as if I had no one. It wasn't true … hindsight is 20/20, they say. I had friends. I just didn't care about any of them, because I was too focused on one thing. I had pills left over from something … getting my wisdom teeth taken out, something like that. I took those, they helped to make things a little more bearable. It escalated."

"It sounds like you had a lot thrown at you at once."

"You could say that."

"I understand."

"You do?"

Darcy nodded. "So what convinced you to go to the extreme Buddhist monastery?" She wasn't ready to talk about her clusterfuck of suck quite yet.

"I went after an overdose. At that point, it seemed as if my father had washed his hands of me, my mother was all I had left. And Bruce. He took me there … and being a doctor, he was able to administer methadone to make the trip easier."

"You overdosed … you almost died?"

"Nearly. Very nearly. You've met Clint and Natasha?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure you'll hear the story eventually, so I'll tell you … but, know that I wasn't in my right mind."

"It's cool, Loki. I'm listening, not judging."

He took a deep breath. "I was at one of Clint's parties, on his farm. A big bonfire … he likes to throw those, something he does for hunting season. I drugged him."

"You … drugged him?"

He looked down at her with fear in his face. "I was drugged myself, so I had no idea what was happening. I still don't remember it clearly … but he'd been drinking all day, and he asked me for something for a headache. He saw that I had a bottle of Advil. I gave it to him. It wasn't Advil … it's where I put a bunch of pills, none of them over-the-counter. Mainly potent pain-killers. He took a handful of them and ended up in the hospital, almost died."

"Hm."

"And that is the story of why Clint and Natasha hate me. After that happened … I don't know, I tried to find something good enough to make it all go away. Thor found me just in time … took me to the hospital. But even he was so very tired of all the trouble I caused."

Darcy gave him another squeeze and she propped herself up enough to kiss him, to reassure him. She settled back down on his chest and he smiled at her, the fear melting off his face.

"So what does that Sig girl have to do with it?" she asked.

"What makes you ask that?"

"I've known junkies. I know what one looks like." Darcy didn't want to reveal how Thor had pretty much outed her at the coffee shop, and essentially, outed him as well.

Loki furrowed his brows. "She always had the heroin. It was as if there was a poison, slowly dripping on me and dissolving my sanity. She offered me up solace, as if it were on a silver platter. We were together, though I'd never describe her as an ex-girlfriend. She was a companion … a consort. It wasn't about love, or sex, or any of that. It was about doing heroin together."

"It seemed like she saw it differently."

He sighed. "I suppose that's true. She thought of me as her boyfriend, some great love, something out of a drug-fueled novel, it was all very romantic to her … but it was all a lie. She was never faithful. If she could get heroin from someone, it didn't matter, she'd do anything."

"That's fucked up … how did you meet her?"

"Hn. She was a student here. Still is, though she should have graduated by now. She's one of those girls who is an aspiring writer. She came up to me at a bar one night, because I'm a novelist. I was in just the right skewed mind-frame to fall for it. She showed me her poetry, which was nothing more than a few dirty words strewn together … she told me her favorite author was Henry Miller … and that should have told me everything I needed to know right there."

"What's that?"

"She didn't really like Henry Miller, she liked what that said about her. The persona it created."

"Ah. I see. Depraved sex-kitten."

"Sex-monster."

She laughed.

"Tell me, Darcy … what is your favorite book?"

She sat up. "Oooohhh, no. Not gonna happen," she said, waving a finger in his face.

He smiled and looked up at her. "Why not?"

"Because … you're a famous author. You'll be judging me. Trying to figure me out, and thinking that you can, just by knowing what my favorite book is."

Loki shrugged. "I cannot help it. But I want to know … really. What is your favorite book? I know you have one."

Darcy smiled slowly. "It's not Narfi … though I do love those books." She sighed, resigned. "Okay. It's The Outsiders."

He laughed. "The Outsiders. I must confess, it wasn't what I expected … and I honestly have no judgement. I'm not sure what to make of it, actually. Why is it your favorite book?"

She grinned. "Rob Lowe as Sodapop."

"Come on now."

"No really … it was the first time I got that rush, you know? Watching the movie. That scene when he's wrapped in a towel, and his hair is all wet, and you can aaaaaalmost see everything. That's when I knew … my sexual orientation is a wet Rob Lowe in a towel."

"Okay, now I'm judging you."

Darcy sighed. "Okay, okay. I read The Outsiders in middle school … and it was the first book I ever read, that made me cry. I realized that books had the power to … like, transport you to other worlds, and to make you feel what the author wants you to feel. It's like some kind of sorcery. An out of body experience."

Loki grinned before he grabbed her waist and rolled them over. Starting with her cheek, he began to kiss his way down her body.

"Although now," she mused … "my current sexual orientation is this gorgeous guy I know. I like to call him Naked Loki … much better than a dude in some towel … and he apparently doesn't need to breath, as he can … ohhhhhhh, holy shiiiiiit."

~~*...*~~

"Are you hungry?"

"Famished."

It was now well past midnight … probably closer to 2 a.m. Darcy rushed down the stairs to get something to eat. She came back with a big plate stacked with bread and strawberries.

"Nutella sandwiches?"

Loki frowned. "Are you not supposed to be some great cook?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes simple is best. Besides, Erik made this gorgeous brioche. It wasn't meant to be overpowered with other ingredients, but to shine on its own."

He tilted his head and smiled at her. She didn't even know what she did to him.

"Now … Nutella, strawberries, and brioche. I could live off of this for weeks," she said, as she began to chew.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Loki coming to the conclusion that she was right … simple things really were the best sometimes. But after a piece of strawberry covered in Nutella, dropped onto his thigh … and she bent over to lick it off …

The food was forgotten. She straddled him and he stayed sitting up, wrapping her legs around him. It was as if they were trying to move through each other, while climbing. She threw her head back as she came, and he bent his head down to kiss chocolate off her nipple. He wondered how it got there for a second, but then forgot everything as he followed her, collapsing on the bed.

~~*...*~~

"So tell me … what happened with the soldier … what did he do to earn his nickname?"

"Fucky?"

His chest moved up and down in a small laugh. "Yes. Fucky."

Darcy moved to her side and propped herself up by the elbow. "He was always a much better friend than he was a boyfriend. I've known him since we were five years old, since Kindergarten. He was a hundred "firsts" … first kiss, first time, first heartbreak. Most of the time, I wish he'd just go away … but he never does, he always shows back up somehow. This time, he shows up by being a war hero. He's just so good, you know?"

"Good at what?"

"Making you believe."

"Do you believe he's changed?"

She inclined her head, thinking. "Something has definitely changed. He's lost something … something in his personality is gone, or hidden. But I'm not sure he's changed so much that he'd all of a sudden make a good boyfriend … and I'm not about to find out."

Her words were a comfort. "How long were you together?" he asked.

"A few years. On and off. Our whole relationship … was a power struggle. All I ever wanted to do was get back at him in some way, for something he did. He'd stay out too late with his friends … the next night I'd try to do the same thing. It never worked though. And nothing ever changed. He was never faithful. And just when I'd begin to stop caring … when I thought that maybe I'd be alright alone. Better, even … alone. He'd do something wonderful … and pull me right back under."

"And then he went off to war …"

"Sort of. That last time we were together … man. I was perfectly happy. I was going to switch majors … get out of poli-sci. I was taking a summer to figure out where to go next, living with my parents in Brooklyn. I was kind of dating this guy, Esteban … an artist, someone my mom worked with. He kind of influenced me … he was … well he still is, this great Spanish painter, and he believed that art was like magic, because it could change you … it can change the person making it, and change the person experiencing it."

"Hm." Loki sounded a bit perturbed with her talk of Esteban … so she steered the conversation away.

"Well, anyway … Bucky was there, all of a sudden. All he had to say was a few words, and I was right back where I started. Believing him. I'm not even so sure that I'm mad at him anymore … but mad at myself, for the naive idiot he always turned me into."

Loki rubbed her arm. "It was never your fault Darcy. Wanting to believe in something."

She shrugged. "He got scared. He left."

"Why would he get scared?" He didn't want to push … but he found that he couldn't help himself.

"Hm. It's not something I talk about, but I'm going to tell you … since it seems like we're being so open, here. But I don't want to dwell on it for very long, okay?"

He was silent, but nodded.

Darcy closed her eyes. "I got pregnant. He left me. I'd never felt so alone, so betrayed, in my entire life … and I never want to feel that way again. But I had Jane and Erik … who knows what would have happened, if I didn't have them."

Loki took her hand and squeezed it.

She opened her eyes. "I'm not sure what I would've done. I honestly have no clue. But a decision was made for me … I miscarried. It was probably all the stress. There were so many jumbled up … feelings. I had never been so relieved … but then never felt so guilty. I felt like a horrible person."

"You are not a horrible person."

"I felt like one." She shook her head out. "My dad died a few weeks after that. The last time I saw Bucky, up until at the hospital … was at the funeral. He inexplicably, showed the fuck up. Even Steve was horrified. He actually said that he came because he wanted to be there for me," she laughed, bitterly. "Erik drug him outside and punched him. Right in the street."

"I believe Erik is one of my favorite people now."

Darcy smiled. "Me too."

"We don't have to talk about it anymore."

She lay on his chest, burrowing next to that comfortable nook by his shoulder. "Thank you."

~~*...*~~

He wasn't sure that anyone had ever paid such close attention to him. She would sit up while he was lying across the bed, and she'd trace every line of his body. Every muscle, every indentation. It was like she was trying to commit it all to memory … a study, so she could paint or draw him later.

"What are you doing?"

"Admiring," she said.

"Really."

"Oh yes," she said, very matter of fact. "You're very well made. A masterpiece. I want to give a big thumbs up, and be like … 'you go, God!'"

He laughed as he reached up to cup a breast. "No … I think it is you who deserves all the praise." His hand fell to her hip. "I've never seen such beautiful curves, such graceful lines."

"Sweet-talker."

"Perhaps. But I tell you the truth. I can't imagine finding anything more beautiful."

She gave him a half smile. "Keep talking." She bent her head.

"Hmmm. Your eyes. They're warm. Like the blue water has been heated by the summer sun, and your skin … it's … it's perfection." He found that he couldn't think coherently any longer.

Darcy smiled around him.

"And your mouth …" He gasped. "Your mouth … it's … annngggggnnnnn."

~~*...*~~

"Can you set an alarm for nine? I have to call Thor and ask him to take out Fenrir."

"Fenrir?" Darcy asked, as she reached for her phone.

Loki was surprised that he'd never mentioned him. "He's my dog."

"You have a dog?" She smiled her toothy grin.

He nodded. "I do. Want to see a photo?"

Darcy was treated to many pictures on his phone of an impossibly cute and wolfish creature. "How old is he?"

"About a year."

She flipped through more pictures. "Is this a snake?"

He sat up a little to look at his phone. "Ah yes, that's Norman."

"You have a snake named Norman?"

Loki nodded.

"And you took pictures of him? Like he's your kid or something?"

He shrugged. "I also have a plant. Though I do not think I have pictures of her."

"Her?"

"Oh yes."

"She has a name?"

Loki grinned. "I named her Hell."

"A plant named Hell?"

"Well … she's a tropical plant. She looks like Vietnam."

"Vietnam?"

He nodded. "Yes. War is hell."

Darcy curled up in laughter. "You have a snake named Norman and a plant named Hell. You've got to be the cutest person who ever lived."

Loki smiled over at her body, shaking with giggles. "No, Darling. I think that would be you."

~~*...*~~

They realized they'd stayed up all night, when a blue-grey light started coming in through the window. He couldn't help it, he needed to have her one more time before they fell asleep, to remind him that it hadn't all been a dream. It all started when they were lying on their sides, her back to him … his arms wrapped around her. She wiggled around, trying to get comfortable … the sensation bringing him back to life.

Darcy smiled and arched against him … she certainly didn't make it easy for him to resist, proper sleep be damned. He let his hand rest between her thighs for a moment, as she writhed against him. They both hissed, as Loki sank into her from behind, and they slowly started rocking … a lazy rhythm of two people, practically spent.

It ended with her on top of him, as the movement of his fingers over her didn't seem to be enough. She needed more. He watched as she took her pleasure … the sun rising, the light on her skin, making all of it more real.

Technically, it was morning sex … though they both hoped that morning-after sex wasn't off the table. They had revealed much to each other … and there was an illusion of safety in a bed. A lover's sanctuary. Sometimes the harsh daylight had its way of breaking the spell.

~~::::::...::::::~~

Okay, just a few notes.

• The Buddhist monastery where Loki went is based off of a real place. The Wat Tham Krabok temple in Thailand. It's known as the harshest place to detox, and also has one of the best success rates in the world.

• If you've never read the Outsiders by S.E. Hinton, or never seen the movie, they're both wonderful. Pretty much every hot guy in the 80's was in that movie. And the Rob Lowe scene with the towel? Google it. It's very nice ;-)

• Also, in case you haven't figured it out ... Loki's pets, and Narfi, are named after his mythological children. Norman is a bit different, just because I can't pronounce Jörmungandr. Can you? I can't. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ So I named him Norman.

• And finally. A note on Esteban. It's a total fanwank on my part. You see, Esteban is Spanish for Steve. And he believes that art is magic. It's my tiny tiny way of making Pedro Pascal into Dr. Strange ... as sadly, it will only happen in this fic. As much as I love Benedict, and as much as I'm sure he'll do an amazing job ... I wanted the Red Viper to be Dr. Strange!

Anyway.

Next up: Loki and Darcy have breakfast at 3 o'clock in the afternoon ... and he asks for an opinion.