Wish I was too dead to care
If indeed I cared at all
Never had a voice to protest
So you fed me shit to digest
I wish I had a reason
My flaws are open season
For this, I gave up trying
One good turn deserves my dying
You don't need to bother
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on
I won't let go 'til it bleeds
"Bother" by Stone Sour
Cursed with a brilliant mind and driven by unappeasable ambition, Loki wasn't ashamed to admit that he was a slave to his own desires. He'd always had a thirst for power, but in the aftermath of Odin's betrayal a lust for vengeance arose, the overwhelming rage and bitterness feeding a need to prove himself in the only way a prince of Asgard could; by the blood of those that wronged him.
He would see Odin diminished. A suitable balm to his own disgrace.
He would see Thor ruined. There would be no more lurking in the God of Thunder's shadow.
Loki felt he didn't demand much, simply a fitting retribution for a lifetime of lies and a claim to a birthright that had never been his by no fault of his own.
Alas, glorious purposes and convoluted schemes were his only true possessions now. He was not a prince of Asgard. He was not Odin's son.
Strip the illusion from the trickster and the truth was as merciless as it was horrifying. Behind the handsome façade, all that remained was the monster that harried mothers warned their naughty children of. A ruby eyed demon with a heart of ice who was nothing more than a lingering ghost of a man that had never really existed.
An entire lifetime of lies.
There was no solace in the past.
Instead, Loki planned for a future forged in blood and fire.
SHIELD was being surprisingly cooperative in holding up their end of this unprecedented arrangement.
It had been all too easy to feed Thor the right lines and steer the dolt into suggesting that Loki and SHIELD form a mutual partnership. The meeting with Fury four weeks prior, however, had required a bit more finesse.
Loki leaned back in his chair indolently, relishing the tension filling the small interrogation room as it grew more stifling by the second.
"Let me get this straight," said Nick Fury as his one eye swiveled between the two men seated before him, his mouth twisting in a wry grimace as he focused on Thor, "You expect me to take on this nut job as an asset of SHIELD?" he asked, jerking his thumb at Loki.
"A jibe at my sanity? Truly? And after I have graciously offered your organization the chance of a lifetime." Loki smirked, his demeanor chiding and exuding merry menace, as he stared down Fury from across the nondescript metal table. "I have arcane knowledge you want. It would be wise to accept." He could feel more eyes prickling his skin, no doubt watching from the two-way mirror that lined the wall from floor to ceiling to his left. Idly he wondered if SHIELD's spies were enjoying the show.
"You have some nerve, Odinson." Fury bit out with a laugh, the harsh sound grating as it echoed in the small enclosure. "Balls the size of Asgard. I'm not sure which part of this I find more insulting; that you think I'll buy into your bullshit or that you are in any position to make demands."
From the corner of his eye, Loki noted Thor was giving him a look of censure. "Must you always antagonize, brother?"
Resentment bit hard and fast and it took Loki more effort than it should have to keep his expression one of playful animosity. Of all the many things he'd been called in his long, tedious life; a disgrace, a cheat, a liar, a monster... were but only a few.
Being called brother, however, rankled.
Would that cursed title forever retain the ability to strike past his apathetic fortitude, neat and precise like a finely honed dagger slipping between his ribs?
Would Thor ever tire of this trite game? Could the addlepated oaf not see how pointless and ineffective the use of sentimentality was on someone like himself? Of course he couldn't, the dolt. Thor still retained an emotional range consisting of more than varying degrees of self loathing and impotent rage.
All the more reason to play nice, Loki reminded himself firmly. His endgame would always be the throne of Asgard. Nothing and no one was going to keep him from that final act of vengeance. But, in lieu of his miscalculation with Thanos, now he was not only banished from Asgard but he was also without necessary resources at his disposal.
As frustrating as it was, Loki was having to start over from scratch. Fortunately, he was already implementing the first of many, many plans to pillage the other eight realms for the resources needed to achieve his goals. Starting with Midgard.
Loki adopted a mask that appeared grudgingly contrite. "Certainly we can put that bit of unpleasantness in New York behind us."
"Unpleasantness?" the Director's brows rose, the left peeking above his eye patch. "Your little tree pissing party killed thousands of people. The only reason I don't put a bullet in your skull right now is because you might be useful." His glare shifted to Thor. "And you are a fugitive of Asgard. We don't want to start a war."
"Odin will not take action against Loki so long as he remains here in Midgard," Thor offered.
"Yeah. I figured as much when you came in here arguing his case," Fury replied dryly. His eye slid back to Loki, the weight of his glare impressive for a defective mortal. "What are you getting out of this, Odinson?"
"I prefer Loki. The surname Odinson is no longer a cumbersome burden I bear."
"Answer my question or I'll call papa Odin right now. I'd like nothing more than to see justice served and something tells me Asgard justice ain't gonna be pretty."
Loki smiled, malice lurking in the curve of his lips. "On the contrary, it's marvelous. Blood. Pain. The music of my agonized screams. And Thor meeting out my justice as befitting his station." The mental image of Thor, cowed and broken by the conflict of misplaced affections and princely duty sparked a viscous pleasure in his shattered heart. "By all means, return me to Asgard at once. In fact, I insist."
"Loki, enough!" Thor's voice boomed, practically rattling the walls. Ever the nuisance, he looked to Fury pleadingly, "Forgive my brother's belligerence. He only tries to provoke me."
"I'm not asking again, Loki, what's in this for you?" Fury snapped.
"Perhaps I wish to make amends for my past transgressions." replied Loki, suddenly looking boyishly earnest and Fury's expression began to bear his namesake. "No?" he chuckled, his expression turning impish, "You're right. I'm dreadfully out of touch with my conscience." His grin turned sly. "How about this… your organization operates under the assumption that myself and others of Asgard are the most dangerous threat you currently face. I can assure you, it is only a matter of time before trouble arrives and I will be the least of your concerns."
Fury stiffened, turning to Thor. "What kind of trouble?"
"We know of nothing directly," Thor quickly placated, "but with the rapid advancement of mortal technology here on Midgard, Loki is correct. In time other races will take notice and SHIELD would do well to be better prepared."
For a long moment Fury was quiet, his stare turning distant. Feeling particularly mischievous, Loki offered, "I have grand plans for Midgard. Though, this rock is of little use to me if the ants go extinct."
"Loki!" Thor growled, appalled.
Fury, however, seemed intrigued. "So that's your game. Trick us ants into making weapons that you intend to use against us later."
The man wasn't entirely wrong. Just a bit short sighted.
"Well, if you want there to be a later…" Loki grinned, "Better the devil you know, Nick."
Try as the infuriating man might, there really was nothing Fury could argue against such sound logic. And just like that, SHIELD had welcomed the devil into the fold with open arms.
Loki was well aware that he'd only traded one prison for another. At least here he was able to work toward his goals, using the slow trickle of time to construct the ground work he would need later.
Surprisingly, SHIELD had granted him his own lab. They'd also shackled him with an ankle cuff rigged with enough explosive power to clear a hundred foot radius around his person. Loki had assumed he would have to suffer the indignity of working with a team of mortal scientists. To Fury's chagrin and Loki's immense amusement, no one with an ounce of sense was willing to work with a mass murderer.
The lab was sequestered in it's own wing of SHIELD's underground New Mexico facility. As Loki anticipated, it was under constant surveillance. Armed guards accompanied him to and from the lab and the only places he was allowed access to were the cafeteria and the glorified holding cell they called living quarters. Methods to work around their eyes and ears were in place but hardly necessary. He could be incredibly patient when properly motivated so he remained on his best behavior, keeping a low profile and a mind-numbing routine.
Ever the wolf in sheep's clothing. Ever the demon wearing a man's face.
To keep his mind in constant motion, when Loki wasn't pouring over in-depth volumes of Midgard's scientific laws and theories, he was putting the practical knowledge to use. There was a fascinating correlation between immortal magic and mortal technology, almost as if where inherent magic ended the human tools for conducting magic began. He intended to bridge that miniscule gap and the possibilities were inspiring.
Yet, there was a fair amount of mad genius in his gambit.
A more prudent individual might say that designing gadgets and weapons with the express purpose of nullifying magic was the exact opposite of what a sorcerer of his caliber should do. But there was leverage in allowing the mortals to believe they had the upper hand. And there was no one more proficient in magic than the God of Mischief, himself. No matter how they tweaked his prototypes, nothing SHIELD or Stark could reproduce would ever be effective against Loki's own magic.
It was the ultimate fail safe. And in time, when Midgar was ready and he had cleverly sewn enough enmity between the mortals and Asgard, war would be an inevitability and it would be glorious. Made even more so once the very weapons he helped create would grant him immunity.
Would Thor abandon the familial pretense and finally see him as a worthy adversary then?
With the might of both Asgard and Midgard at his disposal, the other realms would fall like dominos.
Would Odin finally taste the bitter fruit of centuries upon centuries of thinly veiled scorn and lies?
The only thing Loki understood with any kind of certainty was that he was destined to rule, not be ruled. Never again would he take knee and oath to anyo-
Suddenly the looping spiral of Loki's thoughts interrupted when the door to the lab opened admitting his "assistant". The insufferable girl flounced in with a cheeky smile. "Morning, Psych Ward."
Ahh. The thorn in his side had finally arrived. Splendid.
Ignoring the girl's greeting, Loki looked up from the prototype he was tinkering with and spared Ms. Lewis with a cold, measuring glare. Garbed in her usual oversized attire with that hideous hat that pulled down around her ears, he almost pitied the child. Almost. But then the insolent chit had the audacity to pause beside his work table and shake a brown paper bag in his direction oozing smugness.
"I brought you some breakfast. Figured you'd pull another all-nighter."
Loki's stomach clenched in hunger and it took him by surprise that he couldn't remember his last meal. Perhaps when she hounded him to eat lunch the previous day? Yes. That was probably the case. He did tend to lose himself to the darkness in his head.
"Come on. You know you want it." She shook the bag once more. The scent of sugary sweet confection teased his nose.
"I do not require your mothering," he bit out crossly. Not that it stopped him from snatching the bag from her taunting hand with an imperious sniff.
"That's a really good thing. I'm not exactly fit to be anyone's mother," she laughed ruefully, moving over to her desk and dropping her backpack to the floor with a muffled thump. "I got a stupid bug up my butt to play mommy to some plants over the summer. You should see my balcony now. It's a flower graveyard. Imagine the most horrible battlefield you've ever seen but with plants."
To Loki's annoyance, his mind did exactly that and he found himself fighting a wry smile. "Truly horrifying indeed," he muttered.
"You really hate me, don't you?"
He looked over, a reluctant smile winning out as Darcy stared mournfully at the daunting pile of handwritten data that would need to be entered manually. She had guessed correctly. Sleep had eluded him and so research had filled the empty hours accordingly.
"A valuable life lesson, girl." Fishing out the blueberry scone, he took a bite, relishing the flavor almost as much as the nasty glare she shot him from behind her glasses. "No good deed goes unpunished."
Darcy folded her arms across her ample chest, and cocked her head defiantly. "Is that what they teach princes in Asgard? To be asshats?"
Loki bristled but the weight around his ankle was a grounding reminder as was his curiosity as he asked, "Asshat? I believe that is a new one." He took another bite of scone, mentally adding asshat to his ever growing dictionary of Darcy speak.
"It's like..." She shrugged, "worse than buttmunch but not as bad as twatwaffle."
Yes. Because that explained her strange dialect ever so much.
Sighing, Loki finished his scone and refrained from rubbing the rhythmic pounding in his temples.
"You know, it probably wouldn't kill you to say thank you."
"But it might. Best not to take the chance." Turning his attention back to the small black box filled with an array of wires, gears, and the circuit board nestled in the middle, he waved a hand at her in a shooting motion. "Now, desist your inane chatter Ms. Lewis. There is work to be done."
She huffed "asswipe" under her breath and then proceeded to stick the little white disks in her ears that he recognized a sign she was as ready to ignore him as he was her, and settled down in her seat.
It was going to be another monotonous day.
It was all Jane's fault.
Damn her and her wide, doe eyes that could rival the cuteness of a goddamn puppy.
Just send me copies of his work, she said.
Loki will behave, Thor will see to it, she said.
The lab hours will still go toward your credits, she said.
What Jane failed to say was that she was going to New York to work with Stark. That staying in Puente Antiguo was only going to impede her research and never mind that Jane and Eric were the closest thing that Darcy had to a family, it was totally fine if they packed up their shit and moved across the country because they could still skype, right? And as long as dumb little Darcy did as she was told, well, she could be left behind with the resident extraterrestrial lunatic because that's what family did. They fucked you over with a smile. Or in Jane's case, a pair of pleading eyes Darcy had never been able to say no to.
"So how is the… uh… situation going?" Jane asked, her disembodied voice sounding tired through the phone's speaker.
"Great. I'm seriously considering buying him a case of midol and metric ton of chocolate but otherwise we haven't killed each other yet," Darcy replied. Readjusting the phone between her jaw and shoulder, she rooted through the fridge for the previous night's leftovers. "All in all, Loki's manageable. I mean, I'd be a lot less confident if he wasn't rigged up like fireworks on the fourth of July."
"Apparently the device is a piece of Stark tech. Tony's been bragging about it non stop," said Jane, amusement lacing her words.
Pulling out a plastic container, Darcy began filling it with spaghetti. "You know, I think I'll stick with Loki. At least Psych Ward actually shuts up and ignores me for the most part. I couldn't deal with Tony's blah blah blah all day long."
"He's not that bad- wait… did you just call Loki 'Psych Ward'?"
Darcy bit back a grin at Jane's appalled tone. "Yep. Goes right over his head. It's freakin' hilarious."
"You call him that to his face?" Jane sounded faint.
"Uh, yeah. Dude's got some serious mind fuckage going on. I'm not gonna tip-toe around it. That just makes it a thousand times worse."
"Darcy…"
No! They were not going there. Nope. Nope. Nope.
"It's fine, Jane. Really. Shit, I'm more freaked out that SHIELD owns my ass than I am spending ten hours a day with an entitled sociopath." Pulling a face at her own patheticness, Darcy took out another container and filled it with spaghetti as well.
"Not very reassuring." Jane sighed. "I'm sorry, Darcy. I really wish you were here. New York is so pretty in the fall, with the leaves changing and everything… I wanted you to come with us, you do know that right?"
"Yeah, I know." She hoped the lie didn't sound as obvious as it felt. "Look, I hate to cut this short but I still have to get dressed and SHIELD's taxi service waits for no one. We'll video chat over the weekend, okay. Give Eric a hug for me."
"I will, but Darcy…" Jane hesitated and she could imagine the other woman worrying her bottom lip in indecision. "Be careful. Please."
"Psssh. Me? I'm always careful," she said with a laugh.
"Yes but Loki… he's a monster."
Darcy was assailed by the image of her lab partner, hunched over his project, tongue poking out the corner of his lips with his brow wrinkled in concentration. There wasn't room for acrimony when he was creating and sometimes when she watched him, it was hard to remember that Loki was centuries old and not some college kid like her, just trying to get by. Seeing him with his tall, slender frame engulfed in green leather and folded up as he worked tugged her heart with unwelcome sympathy. The guy was skinny. Too skinny.
Then she would remember New York and remind herself that children died because of his temper tantrum. He wasn't a victim anymore than she was a kid.
Still, all that pain and hurt had to go somewhere...
Outward. Inward. The only difference was the amount of collateral damage.
With a grim smile and dose of percipience, Darcy said, "He's broken, Jane. It is what it is."
"Maybe. Just don't think that you have to try and fix him. You're too kindhearted and I don't want you to get hurt."
Uncomfortable, Darcy retreated behind her usual levity. "Like I need that kind of drama llama in my life. Don't worry mom, it'll be fine."
Yet, even after ending the call Jane's warning lingered. Hastily, she packed up the double portions of lunch and dressed in her usual frumpy-chic style, but her thoughts were no match for the oppressive silence of the unmarked SUV that transported her to the facility and the words kept bouncing around in her head.
He's a monster.
Darcy offered a distracted smile in greeting at the guards and waited patiently as they scanned her identification badge, and still the worry she heard in Jane's voice niggled at her.
If Jane was so damn concerned then why did she leave?
She tried to tell herself it had something to do with SHIELD. Darcy had her suspicions that Fury had paired her with Loki for a reason and considering that she was merely a civilian that knew too much and offered next to nothing in the way of advantage, she was sure that labeled her expendable. SHIELD wasn't going to suffer a loss if Loki lost his shit and made a stain of her on the floor.
Disposable Darcy. The story of her fucking life.
The outer walls of the lab were wall length windows giving her an unobstructed view within. Loki sat at his work space, drumming his long tapered fingers absently against the table as he read from a book that was thicker than her forearm. She felt a smidgen of her discontent ease, noting the relaxed slump to his shoulders.
It seemed Loki would be her new constant. A temporary thing, to be sure, but for now she would take it. Even if he was Grumpy Dwarf's love child with a raging case of PMS.
Observance of one's surroundings was crucial in a life at court. Though he now knew he was not a prince of Asgard by birth, Loki had been raised to be an exemplary paradigm of royalty; charming, diplomatic and, most importantly, observant.
So it was hardly a matter of intellect when he noted Ms. Lewis' mood. The girl had been notably predictable to date and as one of the few interactions he was forced to suffer, he had taken careful account of her daily routine. Today she was quiet in her greeting, barely sparing him a glance.
She was in a word, subdued.
Not that it was any concern of his. He remained focused on his research as Darcy slipped in what she called 'earbuds' and went about her own duties.
Three hours later, Loki was engrossed in equations and the riddle of converting them into a functional magic interfering signal when the sound of Darcy's chair creaking snapped his attention back to the present. He didn't lift his gaze to watch her approach, instead following the sound of her footsteps as they drew near. It was quite ridiculous but there was no stopping the tension that built in his shoulders, his mind already taking stock of the screwdriver easily within his reach and the pen in his clenched fist, his muscles preparing for...
For what? An altercation? As if the girl was a threat. It was laughable.
He flinched as she set a transparent container down beside his hand, the contents entirely questionable. Holding out a fork, she said, "Here. I brought lunch."
Loki's eyes flicked up to hers, then back down to the 'food' and he grimaced. "What is that?"
Darcy waved the fork at him and Loki released the death grip on his pen in favor of a more promising weapon and took the utensil careful not to touch her. She grinned, "Spaghetti and meat sauce."
Hopping up onto the table, she took her own container and removed the lid. The aroma was not unpalatable and his stomach grumbled gently.
"It does not look edible," he said stubbornly.
"Try it." She took a large bite of her own share making a humming noise. Her legs began to swing happily.
He arched brow in challenge. "No."
"Try it. Please. Just one bite." He glared harder and Darcy rolled her eyes, her lips curling up wryly. "I swear on my mother's life that it's better than the crap they serve in the cafeteria."
Hunger hit his stomach with a twisting pang and he caved with a sneer. "If I die I will take you down with me. Painfully."
"Awww," she cooed sarcastically around another bite, "You want to be best friends forever. How sweet."
Damn insolent child... "I would rather remove my still beating heart with a rusty spoon."
Darcy quickly covered her mouth, choking on a laugh. "Woah. Tone down the charm. With sweet talk like that you must've gotten laid every night back in Asgard." He ignored her crude jest and poked about the red goup with his fork. Tentatively he took a small bite. She watched him eagerly. "It's good, huh?"
Surprisingly, it tasted much better than it looked.
"It's tolerable." He would grant her that much. As he continued to eat her grin widened.
"Bullshit. You like it," Darcy crowed gleefully. They ate in silence for a few moments before she suddenly cocked her head, eying him curiously. "What kind of food do they have where you're from?"
Memories surfaced unbidden; celebratory feasts, formal dinners, tables covered in every delicacy imaginable. Eating alone in his chamber, as was his habit, often distrustful and drained from the constant pageantry and pretense that hid the cut-throat underbelly of life in Odin's court-
Darcy's company unsettled him and Loki frowned down at the remains of his lunch, his appetite disappearing. Setting the container aside, he leaned back in his chair, consciously putting distance between himself and the girl, and schooled his features into a visage of mockery as he quipped, "Culinary delights far more appealing than that . In truth, I thought you'd gutted someone."
Her face scrunched up in disgust. "Eww. Fucking psycho."
"Why?" Loki asked coldly.
Darcy blinked. "Why what?"
"Despite your ploy to appear otherwise, you are no fool, Ms. Lewis. Why do you insist on treating me with kindness?"
It was immensely gratifying when the silly girl seemed at a loss for words. Finally she shrugged. "Since when do I need a reason to be nice to someone?"
"There is always a reason. What game are you playing?"
For a split second something akin to pity flickered across Darcy's face but before he could work himself into a righteous fury at the repugnant sentiment, she grinned cheekily, a furtive look in her blue eyes. "Maybe I'm just kissing ass so that you don't kill me the next time you go all evil overlord on us mortals."
She was clever but he was the God of Lies.
"Try again. You do not fear me properly nor do you particularly like me. So once more I ask; what game do you play?"
"What do you want me to say? I don't really have an opinion of you personally. I don't like that people died because of you. There really isn't an excuse for that. But sometimes shit happens and you have no control and all the bad things that fester inside just have to come out." Her gaze slanted away, her full lips bowing in a frown. "Been there, done that."
Hardly.
Darcy Lewis wasn't a loathsome creature hiding behind a comely face. The fragile little mortal could never understand what it was to lose her sense of self. To look in a mirror and see nothing but a hollow shell staring back. She couldn't possibly know the seething anger, the staggering hatred that burned like hot coals in his gut, turning him to ash from the inside out.
It was insulting that she would dare...
Knuckles white, fists clenched so tightly his nails were digging little crescents into his palms, Loki spat, "Whatever paltry injustices you think you've suffered, do not presume to understand my circumstances!"
Eyes wide behind her glasses, Darcy swallowed hard. Finally an expected reaction; but he was too angry to find any appeasement in her fear. Then, in a manner that was as capricious as his own nature, the infuriating girl narrowed her eyes, mouth curling in a snarl. "I'm not. I don't know the ins and outs of what made you hitch a ride on the crazy train. Pretty sure I don't want to. I've got enough with my own baggage, thanks." Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back in an attempt to reign in her temper. When she finally looked at him again the fight had left her as quickly as it had come. Shaking her head, she flashed him a rueful smile. "Seriously dude, you're overthinking it. Cooking for one person sucks and I hate wasting food. That and you're too skinny so I'm gonna feed you. You don't even have to thank me. Not that you have yet, dingleberry."
There was the infernal mothering again.
Oddly enough, Loki felt the fight drain out of him as well.
"You do realize that insults are not effective when the recipient has no concept of their meaning," he said dryly.
Darcy laughed weakly. "You don't get half of the shit that comes out of my mouth, do you?"
"No, I do not," he agreed, her amusement weaving a similar thread into his words. "Your logic is confounding. The rest I simply tune out."
She rolled her eyes, sliding gracefully from the work table. He watched her collect the remains of their lunch, noticing for the first time how petite in stature she truly was. As she walked back to her desk she shot him a half hearted glare over her shoulder and muttered, "Asshole."
Petite, yes.
Demure, most certainly not.
Loki smirked, his tactical mind already weighing options, eager to find out just how useful Darcy Lewis could prove to be.
They were playing a game.
Darcy likened it to chess only with words and gestures instead of a board and pawns.
Loki was an enigma. He was complicated and surly and sometimes she just wanted to throttle him because how one person could be such a pain in the ass was beyond her comprehension. But she was lured in by the little things. Like his smirk. He had yet to give her a real smile, but he smirked an awful lot these days and it made her feel accomplished every time she was rewarded with one. And his snark. It was like he was speaking her language when he dished out the wit. So she kept trying to engage him just because it was fun.
A little voice in the back of her mind warned her that even the most harmless game was dangerous with a powerful immortal such as Loki. He was the God of Mischief for fucks sake. He didn't play by any rules but his own. And she wasn't gullible enough to think he played along because he liked her or anything.
He wanted something.
She wasn't sure what exactly, but he was moving a Darcy shaped pawn around the chess board in his head and no amount of sly smiles and sharp rapport was going to convince her otherwise.
As if alerted to the nature of her thoughts, Loki looked up from the mess of wires in front of him. Noticing her intense scrutiny, he arched a brow in silent question.
Well, that was as good an opening she was going to get.
Bracing her elbows on her desk, Darcy rested her chin on her palm and asked, "So like, how long are you going to hide out here?"
Loki appeared taken back. "Excuse me?
"It's just that I don't peg you for the type of geek to tinker all day. I mean, you are a geek. A total geek. But obviously all of this is for some bigger purpose and I was just curious why you're still in here instead of out there causing chaos." For once Loki the silver-tongued liesmith had no words. But that was okay because she was plenty wordy for the both of them. "Then again, because of said chaos you are pretty much numero uno on everybody's shit list so…"
She should have known Loki would take that assessment as a compliment.
"That I am," he grinned mischievously, trickery dancing in his pretty eyes. "I have been very bad."
And he was an unrepentant bastard to boot.
At face value, the only thing keeping him in line was the threat of going kaboom. Maybe Director Fury believed he had the upper hand, but Darcy was willing to bet money that Loki had the brains to break out of that ankle cuff if he really put his mind to it.
The guy had all the smarts. That's why his demolition derby in New York didn't make a whole lot of sense. She knew he was smarter than that.
The only other explanation was a case of the crazies.
"I kinda get why you did it," Darcy mused aloud, "Family issues. Psychotic breakdown. Asgardian version of a mid-life crisis." She pulled a face. "Sure, let's take over Earth. Yeah. Completely reasonable reaction."
Loki's brows shot up to his hairline, incredulous. "You are quite mad."
Oh boy. He had no idea... "I have papers, buddy. Completely certified. You're in good company, Psych Ward."
Darcy knew she shouldn't poke fun at the God of Mischief. He could turn vicious in a heartbeat. But it was kind of like riding a mechanical bull while drunk, funny as hell and probably going to end badly. Stupid, maybe, but it was so easy to push his buttons she just couldn't help herself.
His left eye wasn't twitching yet so... still good.
"Why do you insist on calling me that insipid title?" Loki asked, equal parts resigned and annoyed.
That was easy. "'Cause you have enough crazy to fill up a nut house."
"A 'nut house'?"
At his blank look, she pushed her chair away from her desk, lifting her feet so it could roll forward. "Sanitarium or psychiatric ward in a hospital. You know, where they keep the crazy people."
Loki followed her with his eyes as she kicked the chair in a lazy spin and she knew he was turning the term over in his mind. "And you get certification papers for being confined in such a prison?"
Darcy shrugged. "Something like that."
"And SHIELD thought it fit to have a mentally unstable woman assist me?" The quirked tilt of his lips was at odds with the shrewd glint in his stare. "Such irony."
"Don't flatter yourself," she scoffed as he came into and the right back out of her line of sight, "I drew the short straw. That and everyone else is afraid of you."
Her chair came to an abrupt stop and Darcy gasped at the sudden presence looming over her.
"Yet you are not. Why is that, I wonder?" Leaning in, eye to eye, Loki stared her down as if she were a puzzle he desperately needed to solve.
Feeling an awful lot like a rabbit facing off against a wolf, Darcy swallowed down her fear and deflected it with her best innocent smile. "Mad as a hatter, remember."
"I could end your life with a flick of my fingers. There would be nothing you could do to stop me," he warned darkly.
"You could," she agreed and decided she could be blunt too, "but then you'd be out the closest thing you have to a friend in this place and you can't exploit that if I'm taking a nice, long dirt nap."
Appreciation lightened Loki's expression for the briefest second and then it was gone, a mask of cool indifference taking its place as he took a step back, releasing her chair. "Already you know me too well."
"Elementary, my dear Watson. You are shady as fuck and I am a realist. And I gotta admit, your douchery is impressive. I kinda want to be like you when I grow up. Only without the body count and the Jerry Springer family drama."
To Darcy's surprise, Loki let out a short laugh. "I believe role model is a moniker that has never been applied to me before this moment." Abruptly he disappeared only to reappear back at the work table, a clear dismissal in his actions.
"Wow. I was expecting your head to get big. Now I won't get to use the safety pin I stash in my backpack for just in case reasons."
Reluctantly he looked up, the beginnings of frustration evident in his condescending tone. "Safety pin? As in the mechanism that controls a grenade? I am afraid I do not see how that is related to an insult regarding my ego."
"Not that kind of pin. Hang on." Scooting her chair back to its proper place, Darcy dug through her backpack and after a moment was victorious. "Like this, see." She held up the small piece of metal, intending to bring it to Loki but in a blink it disappeared out of her hand. "Hey! That's my pin!"
Turning it over in his palm, he gave it a cursory inspection and smirked. "Were you not expecting me to make use of this in some way?"
"Uh, no. You're not fucking MacGyver."
Another blink and the pin was gone, off to whatever Mary Poppins handbag type rift in space storage system he had going on for all the damn things he materialized out of thin air. Shifting his attention back to his work, he said, "Ms. Lewis, I very much need to concentrate."
She was impressed, this was the longest conversation they'd had yet. Maybe that was why she felt the need to say, "Darcy."
His eyes jerked back her, sharp as nails. "What?"
"Call me Darcy. Every time you say Ms. Lewis I feel like I've aged twenty years and have a strange compulsion to start collecting cats."
Did Loki almost smile? Nah. Must have been a trick of the light.
"Darcy," wait for it... "Do shut up."
"Fine." Strangely feeling as if she'd gained some ground, she didn't bother hiding her grin as she slipped in her earbuds and attempted to look useful.
Notes:
I had never considered the Loki/Darcy pairing until I read "A Morbid Taste For Ice" by sitehound. Now I have a new ship in my fleet which is the last thing I need at the moment but I just can't seem to get the potential chemistry of these two out of my head. And Tom Hiddleston is my celebrity crush so... yeah. (insert dreamy sigh)
I know I'm ten years too late to the party but better late than never right.