Darcy trudged into S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, expecting nothing but another boring day at work. Instead, she found herself in the middle of utter pandemonium. Military personnel were running around, looking panicked and yelling at each other in that soldier-jargon she still hadn't picked up on. Freaked out, Darcy started jogging towards Jane's office. If anyone would be able to explain to Darcy what was going on in a way that she could understand, it was probably Jane.

To her dismay, Jane's office was both locked and empty when she got there. And the people around her were still running around like chickens with their heads cut off. This wasn't good.

Darcy grabbed the arm of a woman running by, but she underestimated the surprising strength of the she-beast and found herself nearly face-planting when she got pulled along with her. The woman turned to her with a seriously pissed-off look on her face. Great.

She preempted whatever angry words the woman was going to throw at her by shouting, "What the hell is going on?"

The woman looked her over, reaching for the badge hanging around Darcy's neck to check her security clearance. Satisfied, she answered, "One of our main satellites has been taken out. There was a magical signature. They think Loki has turned again. I knew we shouldn't have trusted that bastard!"

The woman turned and sprinted away, leaving Darcy staring after her with a stupid expression on her face.

Satellite? Loki? No. That was…no.

She wished Jane was there. Because if Jane was there, then Thor would also be there. And if Thor was there, then maybe someone else would believe her if she said that she didn't think Loki did whatever they thought he did. Why would he be messing with a satellite? That seemed kinda pointless for someone with his über-scary abilities. Although he might have done it just to freak people out.

There was only one way to check. She backed herself into the nearest corner (mostly to avoid being trampled to death) and dropped to her knees, digging through her bag like a madwoman. Finding her phone, she quickly scrolled down to the weirdest contact she had – and considering her phone also had the number of a man who had been frozen in a block of ice for 70 years and a man who turned into a giant green monster of death – that was certainly saying something.

He answered on the second ring, "Have you ever heard the story of the boy who cried wolf? One day you will truly need my assistance and I-."

She cut him off, "You didn't trash a satellite." It was more statement than question.

There was an extended pause on the other end. She could picture his smile as he answered, "No. Did you want me to?"

Darcy let out a little sigh of relief. She tried to tell herself that she was happy for Thor's sake, so he wouldn't have to fight his brother again – seeing what that did to him the first time around was pretty brutal. But she had to admit that part of her was relieved for purely selfish reasons. Having a crush on a reformed bad guy was a bit more socially acceptable than a reoccurring villain. Not that she had a crush on him – it was just that he was nice to look at and strangely fascinating to talk to. And maybe she wanted to lick him, but that was so very beside the point.

He must have picked up on her relief because his voice lost its amused tone, "Darcy…why did you call me?"

She'd called him because apparently everyone thought he went all evil again. But she knew there was no way she could explain that to him without somehow offending him. She felt obligated to try though.

"There's been some sort of incident with a satellite. There was magic involved. I don't really know much right now. It would probably be a good idea to come tell people that you didn't do it, because they all seem to think you did."

"Except you." There was a strange tone in his voice.

"Yeah, except me. Although I can't speak for Jane or Thor. I can't actually find them."

She heard him exhale deeply into the phone, his frustration audible. It bothered her for some reason. She knew that she shouldn't be feeling sympathetic toward him right now. It was only logical that people assumed it was him. He was the bad guy. Still, if he had been standing in front of her, there was a dangerous possibility that she would have given him a hug.

He suddenly sounded tired, "I will handle this, alright?"

Darcy nodded even though she knew he couldn't see her. Or, well, maybe he could. She wouldn't be surprised.

"Good," he added.

They both fell silent and she watched as people continued to scamper around. She wondered if they were following some sort of protocol. It certainly didn't look like there was any method to their madness. Were any of them actually doing anything other than spreading the panic?

Loki's voice was low and she had to strain to hear it over the clamor, "Thank you for informing me."

Darcy couldn't stop a strange smile from materializing, "You're welcome. Did you know that's the second time you've thanked me? I feel special."

"It is the third actually. And you should. I have never thanked a mortal before. Nor do I foresee doing such a senseless action again."

He really had a superiority complex when it came to mortals. She shouldn't be amused by that - but she was.

"I won't tell anyone you were polite to a lesser being. I wouldn't want to ruin your image." Her smile dropped quickly and she knew she was about to embarrass herself, but she had to add, "Be careful, Loki. Truce or not, they've probably set their phasers to kill."

A soft chuckle met her ear, "You are concerned about me. Do not be. And get off the floor, you are wrinkling your pretty skirt."

The click that immediately followed let Darcy know that he'd hung up on her. Her head shot up, looking around to find the God of Mischief - but her eyes found another super-powered man instead.

"I assume you called him? Or was it the other way around?"

Steve Rogers waited for Darcy's response with an odd expression on his face. She felt her heart leap up into her throat. Steve was a total boy scout – he would tell Coulson. And then she would get in trouble. She had signed away her ability to have secrets the moment Thor blew into her life. S.H.I.E.L.D. just made her put it down on paper. She tried to effect an air of nonchalance. She didn't want to look any more suspicious than necessary - she was already the creeper in the corner making phone calls to a supervillain. Well, reformed supervillain. Whatever.

It seemed kinda pointless to lie though, "I called him. He didn't do it - the satellite. Whatever happened, he didn't do it."

Steve just nodded.

"So you have Loki's phone number?"

"Yeah…," she drawled, waiting for the inevitable backlash.

"And I'm going to assume no one knows that you do."

"Your assumption wouldn't be incorrect."

He nodded again, "Why you?"

That was the million dollar question. She answered with the first thing that popped into her head, "Well I'm the only person in the building who hasn't actively tried to kill him. So he gave me his cell. But don't worry, I've never had any reason to call him before."

Which was true – his number was supposed to be for a zombie apocalypse which hadn't happened yet – so she technically had no reason to call him. That didn't mean she hadn't called him. The difference between semantics and lies was a grey area - and her little interactions with Loki were teaching her all about grey areas.

Steve continued, "I must admit it's hard to picture that guy with a cellphone. They are useful inventions though."

When was he going to start yelling at her? The suspense was making her antsy. She tried to sound as pathetic as possible in an effort to appeal to his chivalrous side, "Are you gonna tell on me?"

"Is there something to tell?"

"Not really. I have Loki's number. I called him when I found out about this and he said he didn't do it. I believe him. That's about it, I promise."

Steve looked around at the panicking crowd, "Ok, then. But you should tell Thor at least."

That was it? She had thought for sure that she would need to use a few tears to get him to cave. She had been ready to pull out the big guns - sad eyes, pouty lips, possibly even some cleavage. Something fishy was going on with the Captain.

She decided not to question her good luck. She had been going to tell Thor anyway – eventually – but she'd let Steve think he won something here.

"Ok, I will."

"Good. This whole incident has made people edgy. I guess I should go make sure Natasha doesn't shoot anyone - like Tony. He's in rare form today."

Darcy's lips curled up involuntarily at the thought of the Mad Mr. Stark, "Isn't he always?"

Steve smiled back and turned to walk away. He paused and then turned around to face her again, "Be careful, Darcy. Loki shouldn't be trusted. I know he's Thor's brother, but…just be careful."

She knew that. But knowing that she shouldn't trust him and not trusting him were two different things.

"I'm always careful."

Steve just smiled a sad little smile and turned to jog away.

Darcy never actually saw Loki at the facility, though she heard from Jane (who had seen him) that he had been there at some point. He'd confirmed that he had no part in the melted satellite and even offered to find out who had actually done it. So he'd been able to push himself back onto the positive side of the trust/distrust scale when it came to S.H.I.E.L.D. That was good.

The rest of Darcy's day had been pretty shitastic though. Apparently, they'd lost a lot of data and so she had spent hours punching little numbers into a fuzzy screen underneath fluorescent lights that were trying to suck all of the joy out of her life through her eyeballs. Now she just wanted a hot bath, a pint of Cherry Garcia, and a bit of mindless television.

Focused on her plans for the night, she screamed when she walked into her bedroom and found Loki lying on her bed reading a book with an amused smile hovering about his lips. He didn't even look at her, despite the dramatic entrance she had just made.

Without taking his eyes from the page, he said to the breathless girl, "And I thought Rome had been decadent. This novel is absolutely sinful."

Darcy found the presence of mind to notice that he was currently engrossed in one of her smutty paranormal romance books. One of her very smutty ones. How embarrassing…wait, no. He couldn't just keep popping up like this.

She realized that fear was the more appropriate reaction for this situation. Or anger. "What the hell are you doing here? You scared the everloving piss out of me!"

He raised an eyebrow and finally looked over at her. "You do not appear to have soiled yourself. And I am obviously reading. You were taking too long to get home and I became bored."

She took a deep breath to calm herself. "That's not what I meant. You know it wasn't. I'm not in the mood to play games with you tonight."

He turned on his side to face her and smiled at her in a way that made her ladyparts become embarrassingly invested in whatever he was about to say, "What night will you be in the mood to play games with me?"

He wasn't flirting with her. He was toying with her. She had to remember that.

"I repeat, what are you doing here?"

"I had a question to ask you, and it called for some privacy. Therefore, I waited here for your return."

"On my bed?"

"I wished to recline and your couch is not long enough to accommodate my form. And I was not going to subject myself to the torture device that mortals refer to as a futon. However, for the substandard quality of the surrounding furniture in this little hovel you call home, your mattress is surprisingly comfortable."

"I splurged. I saw it on an infomercial and…wait, no, you're distracting me. Why are you here?"

"Hmm…that is a very deep question, little girl. Why is anyone here?"

Why was it that every experience she had with Loki made her feel like she'd fallen into the Twilight Zone? Part of her wanted to hit him, but the rest of her said that would probably not be a good idea. She practically grunted at him, "Loki, c'mon. You know what I mean."

"You really are in a terrible mood tonight. Pity. Fine, I simply wanted to ask you a question." He sat up on the bed, placing the book beside him and stared Darcy down in a way she found annoyingly intimidating. "What do you want from me?"

Darcy blinked. That was not at all what she had anticipated coming out of his mouth.

"What do I want from you?"

He just nodded.

Feeling stupid, she had to repeat, "What do I want from you?"

He cocked his head, "Is there an echo in here? Hmm…hello!" His greeting ricocheted off the walls and seemed to bounce back at her from every angle – bellows and whispers. Stupid magician was trying to freak her out.

"Stop that! I have neighbors!"

"They cannot hear anything. And neither can S.H.I.E.L.D. Well, not anymore at least."

Wait a minute.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He smirked, "You really think the government does not have an eye on you at all times? And an ear? The word naïve comes to mind."

She turned his words over in her head, "They're spying on me?"

He laughed, "Of course."

"But...but why?"

"You are neither a scientist nor a soldier. They do not trust civilians. Especially ones with loose lips. I am not sure if you are aware, but you give off an aura of one not accustomed to keeping secrets."

The government was spying on her. Actually spying. That was way more shocking to her than it probably should be.

Feeling off-balance, she muttered, "Oh my god!"

"Yes?"

She blinked. "No, not you. I mean, how are they…where are they…?"

"There is a visual surveillance device trained upon the door to your dwelling. And audio recording devices near your bed and couch. And in your phone of course."

There was a camera in her place. They were watching her. How fucking creepy was that? Seriously! Her voice betrayed her shock, "Fuck me!"

Loki's smile was naughty, "Now? I have underestimated you, Miss Lewis. You learn that you are being monitored and then demand I pleasure you. Kinky."

She ignored him (ok, maybe her ladyparts were slightly less dry than they had been a second ago, but again – completely beside the point), "Have they seen me…you know, doing anything I wouldn't want them to?"

He smiled like she'd said something hilarious, "How would I know what you would or would not want others to see?"

She felt like crying. She should have known shady government types would be watching her, but it was still shocking and devastating and she felt like she'd been violated in some way. They were supposed to be the good guys. She was supposed to be a good guy.

Her voice was embarrassingly distressed, "Loki, stop. Please."

He seemed startled by her pathetic entreaty. She had a feeling he truly hadn't realized that her emotional state was so fragile all of a sudden. She supposed that she was acting a bit bipolar tonight.

"Darcy, calm yourself. Unless you are regularly pleasured in your doorway, I doubt they were able to see anything of interest. And if you are in the habit of such exhibitionism, I doubt you would care so much about their voyeurism. As for hearing things that you would not wish them to, that is unfortunately much more likely. But there is no point in worrying about it now. I am certain that you made the day of whatever little unimportant mortal was assigned to listen in every time you touched yourself. Your breathy moans were likely the most exciting sexual occurrence in his miserable little life."

"Oh, man…you are so not helping right now." She hadn't actually connected the hidden mics next to her bed with someone listening to her masturbate. That was sick and weird and so embarrassing. And she was pretty sure she might have called out a certain highly inappropriate name the last time she had ya-ya'd her sisterhood. (Whatever, she was drunk on Asgardian ale and he'd been all smoldery and smirky and broody and funny...and he stole her panties!). Fuck you, S.H.I.E.L.D.!

He let out a little incredulous laugh, "You are genuinely distressed by this. Fascinating."

She couldn't figure out why he was so surprised– just because she talked a little slutty, didn't mean she acted that way. She was only human after all.

"Yeah, well maybe you're used to people watching you every minute of the damn day, but not me! I did not give the government permission to go all Truman Show on my ass!"

He sighed, "Fine. But ask me nicely."

"What?"

"Ask me nicely."

Ask him what nicely? She decided it didn't matter. The man was fluent in crazy talk – she would just play along. She embraced the lost little girl feeling and pouted out a soft, "Please, Loki?"

He smiled and disappeared from her bed, only to reappear a few moments later standing in front of her. Very close to her. What the hell?

"You are welcome."

"What the hell did you just do?"

"Destroyed all audio and visual recordings made from this apartment. The overcautious mortals had backed the data up to seven different substations, so you should thank me properly." He took another step further into her personal space. The air around him felt oddly chilled – which was strange. Although…Frost Giant, right?

His voice lowered, "In fact, I am not opposed to a physical demonstration of your gratitude. In the doorway, perhaps, since apparently you have yet to utilize the location and it is no longer under surveillance. I could assure you that no one would see - unless you wanted them to, of course."

She blinked. Thought about it. Blinked again. Thought about it some more. Swallowed. Told herself she was an idiot. Stepped back. Told herself she was a damn idiot for stepping back.

He just stood there smirking at her, as if she existed solely for his amusement. Hell, maybe she did.

"Umm, thanks. For the…whatever you did. Wait, I'm not gonna get in trouble, right?"

He looked offended, "Do I appear to be a man who does not know how to cover my trail? Trust me; no one will discover anything amiss."

Trust me, he says. Trust him. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

"Ok, right. Thanks."

"You are welcome. And do not worry, all future recordings will be nothing but static. No one will notice. Magic will always defeat technology."

Gratitude washed over her and she couldn't stop a happy grin from spreading across her lips.

"Wow, really? Thank you. That was…nice of you."

That was nice of him. Should she hug him? She wanted to hug him. But she had a feeling if she tried, he would make the parts of her that came in contact with him fall off. That would be unpleasant.

Wait, he was here because he thought she wanted something from him. That's what he'd said, right? Before they got so distracted.

She finally answered the question he'd thrown out ages ago, "Oh, and I don't want anything from you."

He took a step back and sat down on her bed again. His voice was skeptical, "Truly?"

"Yeah. I mean what could I possibly want from you?" She hoped that didn't sound rude.

"I will assume that was rhetorical, or else you are dreadfully repetitious. But if you truly do not want anything from me, then why am I here?"

How the hell would she know why he was here? He was talking in riddles again, the bastard.

"Uh, you were the one who came to me. You were Mr. In-My-Bed and everything."

"Yes, but only because you contacted me today."

What the…?

"Because people thought you turned to the dark side again!"

"And you felt the need to tell me that…why?" Something about the calm tone of his voice was making her nervous.

"Because you didn't do it! Because…Thor would be devastated. And Jane. And I…well, it's just…you didn't do it. People were saying you did. I just thought you should know."

His face was unreadable, "You just thought I should know. Out of the goodness of your heart, yes? No expectations of remuneration. No favors that you would call in somewhere down the line."

"Of course not! Do I look like the kind of girl who could plan that far ahead? I didn't want anything from you. I don't want anything from you. That's not why I called." She paused to take a deep breath and try to put her thoughts into some sort of coherent answer. "You've just been…nice to me. Sorta. At least I think you've been. Nicer than I'd imagined the God of Mischief to be, especially after the whole invasion thing."

He stood up, and for the first time Darcy really noticed how tall he was. Wow.

"You think I have been nice to you? And that is why you assisted me. No ulterior motives?"

"None." She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to stare him down despite her vertical handicap. "Can you say the same?"

He raised a brow, "Pardon?"

"What do you want from me? That's the better question. I've been trying to figure it out since you left me your number and the only thing I can come up with is that you wanted to be able to keep in touch with Thor without, you know, keeping in touch with Thor."

He seemed taken aback, "You think I waste my precious time speaking with you because of my brother?"

Now she was the one taken aback, "Umm, yeah. Why else would you bother with me?"

He studied her face as if it were some sort of anomaly. Then he threw his head back and started laughing. It was borderline manic and Darcy felt more than a little uncomfortable. She had the surreal realization that a god truly was laughing at her. She'd felt that way before, but now there was actual proof. How karmic.

"Oh, Darcy. You are too much. I 'bother' with you for many reasons. None of which have anything to do with Thor. But I shall let you figure them out for yourself." He reached his right hand out toward her and she froze as his skin made contact with her own for the first time. He gripped her shoulder loosely and his thumb began to slide back and forth along the upper portion of her collarbone. His hand was cool even through her shirt, and the thumb on her flesh felt icy. She was mortified to find that she trembled a little bit – and it had nothing to do with the cold.

He spoke again in a soothing tone, "Now I hope you do not mind, but I would appreciate the set. I was thinking about constructing a trebuchet this time."

Without a word of goodbye, he disappeared - his touch leaving a phantom chill on her shoulder. She held her breath, but he didn't return after a few moments and she exhaled slowly. Dazed, she lowered herself down onto her bed with shaky legs. Then she laid back and rested her head on the pillow. If it weren't for Loki's faint scent clinging to her sheets (sweet baby Jesus, he smelled good), she would have written the whole encounter off as a really vivid hallucination brought on by stress and sleep deprivation.

She rolled onto her side and felt a distinct lack of upper-body support. Raising a hand to confirm her theory, she realized he had taken something from her again. That sneaky bastard! She now understood what he meant by wanting the set.

Although how he could make a trebuchet out of her bra was still a mystery.