*happy dance* a fast update! Wohoo! This chapter is gonna be a bit on the humorous side, so I hope you enjoy it! A million thanks to all of you for your reviews and kind comments both here and on tumblr!

Thanks to the anonymous reviewers: Arrow835 (left you a PM :d), Kathryn (haha sorry, but hey, at least this was a fast update), Guest (yes and no, he's definitely more feisty than Jarvis), lwolf (I don't know about Loki helping, but he'll be doing something...), Ebs (thanks, I'm glad you found those scenes effective! As for Hill, I hope I'm not portraying her as too vicious; she's just being pragmatic and professional and well, you have to remember Loki is the guy who almost got rid of Agent Coulson, so she's naturally a bit more prickly around him, but she still wants to do her job well, as evinced by her desire to make Loki an ally. Her means are questionable, but then again that's S.H.I.E.L.D's entire policy. Anyway, glad to have brightened your birthday!), Annony (aww, don't mention it and thanks, I'm so happy you're so invested!).

Thanks also to KatieMarrie and bookreader28982012 whom I can't PM.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 20: I will shower her with adoration

Loki had never been confronted with someone's mortal parents before. He had never known a human long enough to lead to such an event. Of course, this wasn't a meeting; it was merely an accident.

Still, watching the middle-aged couple wave enthusiastically at an overwhelmed Darcy brought on some involuntary memories. It was hard not to think of his own...well, caregivers. Mostly, he thought of his mother. In his mind, he was fatherless and content with being fatherless. He tried to suppress any thought of Odin. Frigga, on the other hand, could not be suppressed. He missed her dearly. He wished he could see her smiling at him, just like these mortal parents were smiling at Darcy.

He could not immediately grasp her anxiety. Her mother and father seemed like average, loving parents. Perhaps not very bright or special, as they were human, but they did not look unfit for the job. Maybe she was disappointed with their unexceptional qualities, but then again, Darcy was only human too.

Except, her humanity is different somehow, he argued with himself absurdly.

However, he was considerably distracted from these thoughts by Darcy's hand squeezing his own. The contact had been so sudden and so urgent that he had been unable to disentangle himself from her hold.

She was now babbling incoherently to Lara Devon, still holding onto his hand.

"How in Jesus-tapdancing-Christ are they here? We were supposed to meet on Friday, they're not even supposed to be in New York right now! And here of all places!"

"It would seem that someone informed them you would be at Stark Tower," Agent Devon suggested pragmatically.

"Do I have a nemesis I don't know about? Because that's just plain evil."

Loki rolled his eyes.

A tad melodramatic.

But she was getting very red, very quickly. Anger, or distress, or both.

Loki coughed and tugged at her hand.

"Perhaps you should go speak to them. They have obviously seen you and they know you have seen them."

"Thanks for the input, Loki. Why don't you go talk to them and explain all this?"

Loki furrowed his brows. "I was just pointing out the facts. No need to lash out."

Darcy visibly sighed. "Yeah, great. I'm getting anger management advice from the God of Mischief. And he wants me to go talk to my parents too. What a role-reversal."

Loki did not appreciate the veiled insults, but he had to admit, the circumstances were ironic.

"Look, I'd better call them up here," Agent Devon intervened. "If you went down there and had it out in public, it would...it would not be profitable for you, S.H.I.E.L.D or Mr. Stark. There is an image to uphold, after all."

Loki appreciated her detached and rational thinking, but he did not like her assumption that Darcy should care more about Tony Stark's image than her parents.

Darcy seemed to agree with her. Not that she could do anything about it. She looked trapped and nervous. Like a young animal before slaughter.

"They are not going to kill you, you know," he drawled.

"How would you know?"

Well, for one, I was almost murdered by my - father, he thought grimly.

It was then that she finally seemed to notice she had taken his hand hostage.

She released it so quickly you'd think she had caught fire.

Oddly, the absence of contact left him with a cold chill.

"Well, we called Miss Foster, of course!" her mother exclaimed. "It's the only person we knew. That's how we found out where you were."

Darcy wondered if this was a good time to start regretting her friendship with the nerdy scientist. Sure, Jane had been out of the loop recently, due to the fact that neither had had time to call and chat with the other, but this did not excuse the blatant disregard for the friendship code. Just like you don't tell on a drunk person, you don't talk to that person's parents and give them vital information.

Jane would probably argue that it's unethical to lie to someone's parents. She had probably never lied to her parents. Darcy both loved and hated her for it.

"Your mother still wanted...to surprise you," her father began awkwardly.

"Well, after you ruined everything, yes, I still wanted to have the element of surprise. So sue me! I think I'm entitled to see my own child when I please," her mother replied in a clipped voice that was reserved just for him.

"But we had a schedule. I was going to take you out to dinner on Friday," Darcy argued, her mind racing for a way to explain why she was at Stark Tower and not at some publishing house.

They were currently sitting in one of the office spaces on the first floor.

Lara had stressed that no civilians should be there, but that as an agent, she was allowed half an hour to sort things out.

"After that, they have to go, I'm afraid," she had informed her in the most sympathetic tone she could muster.

Darcy wondered how she could "sort things out" in half an hour.

"Your father came down with the flu," her mother explained with a wink in her eye, "and so he had to excuse himself from work. I, of course, closed shop and we decided to come see you earlier. I'm glad to find you're looking well and healthy."

She could see her mother's shrewd eyes inspecting her S.H.I.E.L.D uniform. She hadn't had time to change and she wasn't about to strip in front of her parents.

"So, you work here too, besides the publishing job?"

"What your mother means to say," her father intervened, "is when we talked to Miss Foster on the phone, she said you had "supervision hours at Stark Tower", whatever that means. She was in a rush, so we couldn't get much out of her, but...I gather she knows something we don't."

"It's okay to have two jobs, Darcy, as long as you're not overworking yourself. We just never expected your second job to be...well, this," her mother spoke, pointing at their surroundings.

Darcy swallowed.

"And that stern young lady? Is she your boss? She was dressed...in a very non-professional attire, I would say. Who goes to work dressed in such a tight outfit? And what nationality is she, exactly? I couldn't figure it out from the tone of her skin," her mother went on, narrowing her eyes. Her Southern roots were coming out in full display.

Her father sighed.

"Cynthia, enough with the passive aggressive stuff. Clearly, Darcy forgot to mention a couple of things about...her situation. Let's give her a chance to come clean."

Her mother scowled.

"What bothers me, Martin, is that she thinks we're idiots who can't handle the truth."

Darcy wiped her sweaty hands on her pants and cleared her throat.

"I don't think you guys are idiots."

"Well, then? Do you even have a publishing job? Because I went on the internet the other day – yes, Darcy, parents do that too – and I searched that company's name and I didn't find anything on it."

"First off," her dad interrupted, "it was me who did the internet searching. And second, we were just trying to find the building's address. We trust you, Darce, but...you gotta give us a hand here."

Darcy inhaled sharply, preparing herself for the verbal beatdown she'd no doubt get after she came clean.

"It's true, I don't really work at a publishing house. I work for...these guys," she said pointing at her uniform.

Her father squinted. He couldn't see much without his reading glasses. "Shield? What kind of name is that? Is it some kind of cult?"

Close enough.

"It's an organization...of sorts."

"Of sorts?" her mother echoed upset. "Darcy, what have you gotten yourself into?"

It was at that moment that the door to the office flew open and an agent walked in. An agent she unfortunately recognized. Thomas.

"Darcy, they told me you were here -" he began urgently, but when his eyes fell on her parents he coughed and straightened up, forcing an awkward smile on his face.

"Ah, you must be Mr. and Mrs. Lewis. Pleased to meet you. I work with Darcy at PageLeaders. We are both here on behalf of the publishing house, trying to sign a book deal with Mr. Stark."

Darcy went white.

Thomas winked at her in reassurance, as if to say he had it all under control, even if the venue and circumstances had been changed.

Oh, no. He's going with the plan.

"I know you must want some time alone with your daughter, but I'm afraid she is needed urgently with the uh, commission upstairs, to look over the...book deal."

Her parents stared at him, mouths agape.

Darcy put a hand to her neck and waved it spasmodically in a "cut it out" gesture, but this was Thomas' moment to shine and he was not about to stop.

"Darcy is an instrumental part of our team and a very important person. I would not be asking otherwise. You understand."

Her father suddenly drew himself up. He generally never lost his cool, but Darcy could see something brewing underneath his calm exterior.

"You had this ...boy come in here to lie to us? Really, Darcy?"

"Excuse me, Sir, but I am twenty-seven. Not really a boy, so to speak," Thomas commented inopportunely.

"Son, you'll want to make yourself scarce, if you know what's good for you," Martin Lewis warned, his voice taking on that fatherly edge Darcy would have otherwise appreciated, were it not for her current predicament.

Thomas looked at Darcy for help, but she mouthed a silent "go!" and nudged her head towards the door.

"Actually," her mother interrupted, getting up. "Why doesn't he stay and tell us more about himself and Darcy? Like everyone else here, he seems to know more about our daughter than we do."

Darcy closed her eyes. This was not happening.

Thomas blushed deeply.

"I'm sorry, I don't know how I can be of assistance."

"Start off by telling us why you're both wearing these uniforms. What is this Shield thing?"

"Oh, well, you see we are not supposed to disclose much due to security reasons," he spoke stiffly.

Her father rounded up on her. "Security reasons? Good God, Darcy, are you working for the NSA?"

"Close enough," Thomas piped in more enthusiastically, "but we are a far superior version of the NSA."

Darcy could have killed Thomas at that very moment and wouldn't have regretted it.

Her mother put her hand to her mouth. "Martin, are you hearing this?"

"I am and I don't like it one bit. What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?"

Now, all three of them were staring at her expectantly, as if she somehow had to make everything right.

"...it's not really like the NSA."

"That's all you have to say?!" her mother exclaimed.

"I was planning on telling you, I swear! It's just that there were uh, security reasons..." she trailed off, annoyed that she had no better idea than Thomas' excuse.

Her mother turned on Thomas.

"Tell me, young man, do your parents know you're engaged in this...activity?"

"My mother passed away, but my father and my brother both know, naturally," Thomas replied smugly.

"I see. And how come you weren't afraid of security reasons?"

"Well...I..." Thomas grappled, finally realizing his mistake. "I mean of course I have only disclosed the bare minimum."

"Is that right? So, you," her mother flared up, pointing her finger at Darcy, "didn't even think we could handle the – the bare minimum!"

Darcy just wanted someone to bury her alive.

"In Darcy's defense she has a lot more on her plate than I do," Thomas added, in what he hoped was another helpful intervention

"That's not true! I have just as much on my plate as everybody else!"

She realized she sounded stupid. And a little crazy. But she didn't care.

Her father rubbed his forehead pensively.

"Well, you know what I think? I think you're grounded."

"What?"

"You heard me. You're coming home with us. You're grounded."

"Dad, you can't ground me, I'm twenty four."

"Oh, yes, I can."

"You couldn't even ground me when I was six."

"Well, it's never too late to start."

This was getting out of hand. She needed to make a stand, or else she would be riding for eight hours in the back of the family car with the old and embarrassing bumper sticker: "YES, SANTA, THERE IS A VIRGINIA!" still stuck to its dusty rear end (her parents refused to take it off, even after she had explained to them what it meant). And knowing them, no Maria Hill or Nick Fury could stand in their way.

"No, I'm not coming home."

"Pardon?"

"I love you guys and you know you're very important to me. But this job is my priority right now and I can't leave."

"Darcy -"

"Look, I'm not about to throw away everything I've worked for. I have responsibilities here. People count on me."

Her parents watched her with stunned expressions. They had never heard their daughter mention responsibilities with relish.

She wished some important somber music was playing in the background.

"I was stupid to lie like that, I know, and I'm sorry, but I did what I did because, at the time, I wasn't even sure I had a job. I couldn't jeopardize it. But now that I do and it's something I'm actually proud of, I'm not going to give up on it. I'm an Agent. I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. They handle international security and law-enforcement and they're the best at what they do. I'm only in training right now but I hope to one day become good enough to help people. I've already gone on some missions which have made a difference and I am doing something important with my life. I'm studying and taking exercise and kicking ass. Well, the last part doesn't happen so often, but you get the idea. I shouldn't have kept this from you, but now that you know, you also have to know I am committed to it 100 percent."

Her parents were still taken aback with her speech, but she could swear they also looked a little bit impressed.

Martin Lewis whistled. "Well, look who grew up while we were away."

"But is it safe, Darcy? What you are...doing?" her mother asked, her voice much softer than before.

"No," she replied honestly. "Not all the time. But the real world isn't safe either. That's what I learned here. And I am training to be better prepared to face the danger out there."

Her mother shook her head. "But how will we be able to sleep at night knowing you're – I don't know – in some godforsaken country across the globe, fighting for democracy or something?"

Darcy laughed. "That's not how it works, Mom. This isn't the Cold War." The Winter Soldier suddenly flashed before her eyes, but she chose to ignore that unpleasant memory.

"And I can safely say I'm not going anywhere for the time being. I still have a lot of learning to do."

Her parents exchanged a look.

"Our daughter is a spy, Martin," Cynthia Lewis exhaled dramatically.

Darcy rolled her eyes. She definitely got that dramatic streak from her mother.

"Yeah, I guess we'd better start filing our taxes now."

"Martin! This is serious!"

"I am being serious. We should also think of changing our names too."

"Oh, you're impossible!"

Darcy grinned. Her parents' antics never got old.

Her father turned towards her. "And you, don't think you're off the hook. We're still mad at you, just so you know."

"Yes, and when you come home for Christmas, you'll still be grounded," her mother chimed in.

Darcy felt the urge to hug them, but they still looked a little sore about the whole thing so she decided not to push it.

"Now you have to call us weekly and keep us up to date. No more calling once a month," her mother continued imperiously. "And we want to talk to your boss, or someone of authority. We want to know how this works."

"I can...try to arrange that. You know that agent whose outfit and ethnicity you criticized? She's the person you want." They'll have to be satisfied with Lara. I am not giving them Daniel Steele's number.

She was contemplating how Maria Hill would react to a visit from her mother, when...

"And we also want to meet this boyfriend of yours. Right away, in fact."

"I'll see what I can – wait, what?"

"Your romantic partner. I don't know how you kids label it these days."

"Who are you talking about?"

"The tall young man you were holding hands with. We saw you standing next to him, didn't we Martin?"

Her father nodded his head sheepishly.

It took Darcy a few seconds to grasp what they were saying. Then she burst into laughter.

Loki! They think Loki's my boyfriend!

"Did I say something funny?" her mother asked crossly.

"No, it's just that – that guy is definitely not my boyfriend."

"Really? Because you were holding hands like there was no tomorrow."

Darcy had forgotten that in her mother's Southern universe, holding hands was as legit as getting to second base.

"I was just nervous so I grabbed his hand by accident -"

"Do you think I was born yesterday? Who is he exactly? You owe us at least that."

Darcy turned to her dad for help, but he shuffled awkwardly and nodded towards her mother.

"If we can't know too much about this agent business, you should at least tell us about the people in your life."

He isn't in my life! she was tempted to reply, but that wasn't exactly true.

"If I may," a tiny voice spoke up, and both Darcy and her parents realized Thomas was still, unfortunately, in the room. "L-Luke is just a fellow agent."

"Luke? That's his name, then? So, is Luke a friend?" her mother continued the inquisition, turning on Thomas.

"Uh, yes...you could say that," Thomas replied nervously. He was trying to make up for his previous gaffe but this didn't seem like a wiser course of action.

"He's just someone I work with. That's all there is to it. I don't have a boyfriend," Darcy intervened.

"Your daughter is right. In fact, Darcy is in charge of supervising him. That is why they might seem close," Thomas acquiesced.

Darcy couldn't believe it. He was somehow making things worse. She glared at him.

"I mean – very professionally, in a very professional setting," Thomas added, wincing.

Okay, he is a dead man. He will die a painful death. And I am revoking his friendship card, I don't care how good he is at Game Theory.

Her parents exchanged a surreptitious look, as if they knew better.

"You know what? The half hour is up! Yeah, we can't hang out here anymore. So we'd better get going," Darcy said, heading towards the door.

"Come on, I'll buy you guys coffee somewhere that's not Stark Tower," she added when she saw that her parents were not making any moves.

"Actually, we were hoping to have coffee downstairs. There's a really nice lounge and maybe your friend here and Luke can join us. We heard Tony Stark might make an appearance. Have you met him, Darcy?"

Her mother was so predictable. One moment she was angry at her for keeping secrets, the next, she wanted to meet those secrets.

"Yeah, he's swell, but I think he's pretty busy right now -"

"You've actually met him?" her father interrupted.

"Um, yes? We collaborated on a mission, let's say."

They both sat up at the same time and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Our Darcy, friends with Iron Man."

Darcy would have corrected their assumption, but she was enjoying the parental approval too much to bother.

Being stuck in an elevator with agents Rhys and Torres really made Loki appreciate Darcy's more entertaining presence. He had more or less saved Torres' life in Philadelphia but she had either forgotten or chosen to omit this detail from her day-to-day behavior. Now, he had to listen to their inane conversation about some new high-tech gadget S.H.I.E.L.D had just released.

"But does it have a switchable optical image substractor? Because that's really the deal breaker for me," Rhys was saying.

"Oh, shut up, you know you're going to beg Steele to give you one just for the protractive laser scanner."

"Hey, it does come in handy when you're in a bar full of hot girls and you want to identify their...DNA."

"Ew, Aaron, keep it in your pants."

"What? Nothing turns me on more than gene code."

Loki would have liked to record this conversation, show it to Thor and then hear his half-brother's arguments about Earth being a wonderful, magical place.

Luckily, Rhys' badge went off and their little tryst was interrupted.

"Yeah, I'm heading back up. Understood."

"What's going on?"

"Apparently, there's been a breach in the software security system. Minor, but still, I'd better go check it out."

"No way, you get to deal with the security breach while I walk the god to his car?" Torres protested. "I'm coming with. I'm sure the guards can handle him."

The two non-descript figures standing behind Loki grunted in affirmation.

The elevator stopped and the two got out, much to his relief.

This was the first time in a long while he had been alone. Well, the guards did not really count.

He let his mind wander. Where was Darcy now? She had not come back for supervision. She was probably with her parents. Would they be mad at her? Disappointed that their perfectly average daughter wasn't so average, after all? Well, then they'd have something in common.

The doors to the elevator flew open and he was pushed out ungraciously onto the first floor. He was walking down the corridor with his head in his chest, when he heard voices calling out behind him.

"Darcy, isn't that your friend, Luke? From before? Young man!"

Unwittingly, he turned his head.

A middle-aged man and woman were strutting towards him eagerly. And then right behind them, Darcy, looking completely horrified, and an unidentified agent.

He realized a little too late these were her parents.

The guards quickly stood before the two Lewises, as if to block their path, but Darcy and the unidentified agent took out their badges and the guards stepped back.

"Mom, Dad, come on, we have to go, you're not strictly allowed to be here -" Darcy was saying. Well, more like pleading.

"We understand you're Darcy's very special friend," the woman began in what Loki thought was a rather grating voice.

"Oh, my God, Mom, please stop. I told you he's not," Darcy intervened precipitately, trying to steer her away.

"Don't be so rude, Darcy! Will you just let me speak to him? I'm Darcy's mother, Cynthia. This is her father, Martin. We're pleased to meet you, although I'm sorry the circumstances are so strange -"

"Okay, you need to get on this elevator right now," Darcy interrupted again.

"Goodness, Luke – is that your name? How do you put up with her?" her mother joked, smiling obliquely.

He was surprised neither she nor her husband seemed to recognize him as the criminal god shown on every screen in the country, but he supposed his months with S.H.I.E.L.D had altered his looks. The lack of horns and scepter always seemed to confuse people.

"I – I am not sure what you mean by that, Madam," he replied, looking at Darcy for help, but she was currently occupied with trying to push her father towards the elevator.

"Well, I just hope you know what a wonderful, valuable girl Darcy is, even if she can be a little bit stubborn and rude," her mother said, glaring at her daughter.

Loki had no idea what the woman wanted him to say.

"Yes, she is an...esteemed agent. I believe I value her performance justly."

He could swear the woman blushed.

"Goodness, you don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"Now listen here, Luke. I don't beat around the bush either. You just make sure you treat her right."

Darcy's father had managed to escape from her grip and was now charging on him too.

"I don't think I understand -" he began, but was cut off promptly.

"You think you're all hot-shots working for a big name corporation and we're just average folk, but if you hurt my little girl, I will chase you down to the ends of the Earth and make a purse out of your nutsack."

Loki was startled by the graphic imagery. He realized now where Darcy got her mouth from.

"Jesus, Dad, you did not just say that." Darcy held a hand to her forehead. "I am so sorry Lo – Luke. My parents don't know when to quit. Now, let's please all go to the elevator before I have a public meltdown."

Suddenly, Loki understood why her parents were making these seemingly absurd allegations. They thought he was her romantic partner. And judging by Darcy's reaction, she had not encouraged such suppositions.

He would have found the whole thing rather amusing, were it not for the fact that these innocent, ordinary Americans thought their beloved daughter was engaged in promiscuous affairs with a wanted criminal.

Actually, that's still quite funny, he decided.

He placed his hands behind his back and smirked. He could play this game.

"I would never dream of hurting your daughter, Mr. Lewis. I doubt that I could. She throws a mean punch."

It was no lie. He had felt it on his own skin.

Darcy stared at him, flabbergasted. He rather liked that look.

"And Mrs. Lewis, I am constantly amazed by your daughter's stubbornness. Every day, she seems to surpass herself. It truly is such an...endearing quality."

Darcy looked like she'd swallowed something rotten. Perhaps he was enjoying this a bit too much.

"I see you're a fine young man," her father spoke, clearly mollified. "I just want you to treat our girl right, that's all."

"Oh, don't worry, I will shower her with adoration," Loki teased, watching Darcy's expression go from horrified to enraged.

"You are, of course, joking, Luke," she said through gritted teeth.

"I certainly don't think our bond is a joke, Darcy," he replied with affected concern.

He saw her turn a bright shade of red.

"What a nice man, and you, not wanting us to meet him!" her mother exclaimed, throwing Darcy a look. "I'm sorry we have to go, Luke, but we should definitely have you over for dinner sometime -"

"And that's the elevator, say goodbye now, because you'll never talk to him again in this lifetime," Darcy muttered, ushering them towards the exit.

"Thomas, a little help here?" she called out to the other agent.

As the clumsy blond agent steered her parents inside the elevator, Darcy turned towards him and scowled, whispering under her breath:

"You know, I'd almost forgotten you're the God of Mischief, but thanks for reminding me. Asshole."

Three months ago, such an insult would have been enough for him to commit murder, but now he just smiled innocently at her and said:

"Does this mean I'm not invited to dinner?"

She huffed and the bright shade of red on her cheeks only deepened further, much to his pleasure.

He was eventually pulled away by the guards, but all the way down to the garage, he couldn't get rid of the small smirk playing on his lips.