Though the hour was late, Loki decided to first check up on his brother before heading to Darcy's apartment. He had not spoken to Thor in several days and there was still a level of distrust on both sides of the sibling relationship that forced suspicion to arise if they went without communication for too long. But, as he no longer had to disguise his every move, he had fallen out of the habit of sending a double ahead to scout the area for any threats - and so was unprepared for the sight that greeted him on his arrival at his brother's residence.

While Jane Foster was not particularly unpleasing to look at naked, Thor was another matter. Loki was quite certain that the image of his brother's naked ass clenching and unclenching would be useful to recall in the event that he was ever poisoned and needed to immediately empty the contents of his stomach. While tempted to stick around and offer commentary on his brother's subpar performance, the knowledge that he once sat upon that very couch was too much to endure. He disappeared silently, leaving the two rutting beasts none the wiser.

Now he had no other choice but to visit Darcy. He had already spent too much time that night with Tony and trying to play nice with yet another mortal would be exhausting. He sent himself to her (hopefully less sullied) couch. Ah, she was making a meal. He watched as she pulled something from a bag on the counter and popped it in her mouth, crunching on it noisily. Then she grabbed a truly hideous looking fruit and began to cut it in half.

"Do not tell me that is edible."

She jumped, chest heaving nicely, and spun to face him. That was all well and good. However, the grimace on her face and the droplet of crimson slowly winding a ribbon down from her finger to her wrist was not so well and good. Perhaps startling her while she was holding a knife was not his best idea.

"Fuck! Loki, you bastard." She put her finger in her mouth – dreadfully unsanitary – and cringed at what he could only imagine was the delightful metallic taste of her own blood. She pulled her finger out of her mouth with an audible pop and gave him a glare which would have quelled a mortal man. Loki just sighed and reappeared directly in front of her, making her jump again.

She yelled at him, "Stop that!"

She put her finger back in her mouth. Apparently, tonight was the night when Loki would be forced to endure the most disgusting things imaginable. Lovely.

He reached for her wrist and pulled her hand away from her mouth with a disapproving look. Then he lowered his own mouth to her hand and blew on it ever so slightly, watching as her flesh knit itself back together. Much better. A whimper caught him off guard and he raised his eyes slightly to meet the shocked gaze of the girl in front of him. She was whimpering at him now? Why? He knew that healing her wasn't the most disturbing thing he'd done in her presence and he knew he hadn't hurt her. He released her wrist quickly, and she pulled it up to her chest with a shiver.

Why was she so perplexing?

"Are you alright?"

She looked dazed. He had popped in on her before, so he knew she couldn't be that shocked at his presence. And there was no way she had lost enough blood to justify this kind of reaction.

She blinked, "Oh. Nothing. I just…you blew on me. Why did you blow on me?"

"The more appropriate response is to say thank you."

She seemed confused, "Thank you?"

"You are welcome."

"No, I mean…why am I thanking you?"

Loki just shook his head. "And Tony accused me of bad manners. Look at your wound, little girl."

"Tony? As in Tony Stark?" The rest of his statement finally seemed to register and she looked down at her unblemished skin. "Oh. Oh! Thanks. That's a handy trick."

"That is not a trick at all. Merely a spell – simple but effective."

"Ok, whatever. Thanks. Now go back to the part about Tony."

Loki sighed, turning to poke at the unusual food products littering her counter. "He accepted my challenge."

Darcy blinked, trying to figure out what the hell he was…oh, wait. She remembered a brief moment of clarity in her somewhat boozy fog the night she met Loki, "Chess? You played chess with him?"

"Yes. It was…gratifying."

She smiled, bouncing on her toes a bit. "That's so good! You're, like, bonding with people! Did you win?"

He rolled his eyes, "Of course."

She tried to picture it – the God of Mischief and Iron Man hunched over little pawns and castles. How surreal was that image?

"Did you use one of those timer things like the old guys in the park?"

Pulling a strange flattened triangle from the bag on the counter, Loki responded, "No. But Tony was amused that the pieces moved on their own."

Darcy gestured to the item in his hand, "It's a tortilla chip. You eat it. Or, like me, you dip it in guacamole. It's super delicious. How do you know about Massaman Curry if you've never had nachos? That's so weird. Nevermind, what were you saying about the pieces moving?"

He delicately placed a chip in his mouth and bit down. Salty. He hoped the green goop she was mixing tasted better, "The pieces I am wont to use are semi-intuitive, and move via your thoughts. One may not always have the luxury of free hands when playing such a game."

Darcy figured that it was just like Loki to multi-task during the hardest game in the world. Wait a minute...the pieces moved on their own. They moved on their own!

"You played Wizard's Chess with Tony Stark? Like, seriously! That's the coolest thing you've ever done. You're like Harry-Fucking-Potter, man! I'm so jealous."

He just stared at her like she was insane, "I assure you that it was most certainly not the 'coolest' thing I have ever done. And I prefer the term sorcerer to wizard, but that is mere semantics. And why do I remind you of this Potter?"

She still seemed inordinately excited, "No! It's...wait, you really don't know Harry Potter?"

"Is he famous in this realm?"

Darcy held back a giggle, "Yeah. Very. Powerful, too. He can do some pretty impressive spell-casting."

Loki hadn't realized Midgardians could wield magic. Interesting. He caught the smile hidden in the corner of her lips.

"Ah, you are teasing me again."

She let the giggles break free, "Somebody has to. Harry Potter is a character in a book. He doesn't really exist. Then again, you're a character in a book - and here you are. Wow. Do you think he could exist somewhere? That would be amazing. And Snape! I love Snape."

He tried not to be amused by her enthusiasm, "Another character I presume?"

"Not just a character, but the character. I cried like a bitch when he died. Buckets, man. You really have to read those books. Or watch the movies - they're, like, fucking epic."

"I shall endeavor to do so, but I promised Tony that I would watch something called the Star Wars Trilogy first."

That caught Darcy off-guard.

"Tony Stark is a Stars Wars geek? Seriously! Oh, I'm gonna have to anonymously twitter that shit. People need to know."

She grabbed the bowl of questionable green sludge and the bag of tortilla chips off the counter and headed toward the couch. She plopped down with a startling lack of grace and patted the space next to her with her free hand. Bemused, he appeared beside her, making her jump and nearly upend her guacamole.

"You really have to stop doing that. Can't you just walk like a normal person?" Despite her angry words, she held the bowl out to him.

Summoning up all of his godly courage, he plucked a chip from the bag and scooped up some of the mush. He threw it into his mouth quickly and paused, waiting to see if he would feel the need to gag yet again tonight. It wasn't that bad – sweet and citrusy, which helped to counteract the abhorrent salt content of the little triangles. It wasn't that good though either. He attempted to give her a polite smile, but she must have read his distaste, and so she shrugged.

"More for me. What do you like to eat?"

"Food." The way he said it implied that her current snack didn't constitute as such.

"Snob. At least Thor eats pancakes."

"I have particular taste. And I am not surprised Thor would eat a dish with the word 'cake' in it. He has always had quite the sweet tooth."

She shook her head and explained, "Pancakes aren't really like a cake. Not the way I think you mean it, at least. They're flat and not too sweet. I mean, you put syrup on them – and butter – and I guess that makes them sweet…huh. Ok, nevermind. They're really yummy though. Even gods approve."

"Well, I shall simply have to try them for myself one night."

"They're more of a breakfast thing. I'll make them for you though. With chocolate chips, if you want."

It suddenly occurred to Darcy that she had invited the man for breakfast. And it was currently pretty late at night. Certain people would take that as an invitation.

She blurted out, "That wasn't a line. I didn't mean we could…you know…I just meant breakfast."

She wanted to smack herself for the pile of awkward she had just walked into. She was constantly embarrassing herself in front of this guy. Which was really par for the course with the way her life worked – hot guy equals foot-in-mouth Darcy.

And she really had to stop thinking he was hot until she confirmed that he couldn't actually read her mind. He was looking at her strangely – oh, god – he could read her mind. Awkward. And just like when someone tells you not to look down and so you have to look down, she tried to tell herself to stop thinking embarrassing things about Loki like some sort of creeper. She failed. He was pretty. And she couldn't help noticing that he had really nice hands. Big. Long fingers like a pianist. And the word 'pianist' sounds like…oh, fuck her. She willed herself to stop thinking like a perve, but her face was starting to heat up. Please, please don't be reading my mind, she mentally begged him.

Loki just watched in confusion as the discomfort on her face shifted into obvious embarrassment. She was so very odd. And what was she thinking about that caused her to blush? He had only seen this reaction from her once before and it was after he had given her a compliment. He most certainly had not complimented her tonight. In the interest of maintaining his sanity, Loki touched her mind with his own. He pulled back immediately, as if mentally scalded.

The whimpering.

The shivering.

The way she looked at him.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place in Loki's mind.

"Darcy, I am afraid I must go."

He disappeared before she had even processed the words. But he didn't leave her apartment. He watched from across the room, invisible, as she stared with wide eyes at the place where he had just been sitting.

"Umm...goodbye?"

She shook her head and turned on the television, but did not seem to pay much attention to the drama playing out onscreen. She continued eating the chips absently, looking deep in thought. Loki knew his face held a similar expression.

She was...attracted...to him.

Darcy Lewis lusted after him.

How in the realms did this happen?

He knew that he should not find her attraction to him so surprising. He was a perfectly acceptable specimen of man. It was just that on Asgard - he stood out. And not in a positive way. There was a certain similarity of physique to the average Asgardian male. And when your brother (your elder, heir-to-the-throne brother) was the embodiment of the Asgardian ideal...well, it was painfully easy to get overlooked.

Not that it had ever really bothered him. Truly. Thor was the one who craved attention from the ladies at court - Loki was the one who would picture what their brain matter would look like decorating the walls. Excepting Sif, all the women of court ever spoke about was idle gossip and other completely useless matters. And Sif had never liked him anyway, which was a wonderfully mutual feeling. Though he had to admit, he respected a woman who would choose to do more with her life than destiny generally allowed - perhaps the fact that his mother had been a fearsome warrior in her day influenced that opinion. But Sif had always been distrustful of him, as if she had known that he didn't belong. At the time, he had simply assumed that she was infatuated with his brother and resentful of anyone who could divert his attention. Now he couldn't help but wonder whether she had a touch of the seer in her. But just remembering the tightening of her jaw when he made her kneel before him...ah, that was the stuff pleasant dreams were made of. He genuinely disliked that woman.

But enough about women he didn't like, Darcy was attracted to him. What was he supposed to do with that? A million different ways he could use it to his advantage drifted in and out of his head, but he dismissed them all. She was not lying when she said she wanted nothing from him. He would extend her the same courtesy.

This could become very awkward though. He had never been very good at ignoring the elephant in the room. And when said elephant was pretty and curvy and...kind...to him. Dilemma, dilemma.

Mortals were strange. On the whole, they were less attractive as a species than Asgardians. They were quite a bit more appealing than Frost Giants, but that wasn't saying much. Though Darcy was beautiful. But it was hard to concentrate on her physical person when she started with the incoherent babbling. However, her inane chatter was somehow less offensive than any he had previously encountered. He almost enjoyed it. Almost.

He could bed her. There was an instinctual appeal in the idea. But haste had been Thor's flaw - Loki knew better. Still...

And he had a pair of her undergarments. Lacy things. Purple panties and a pale pink bra. They still held her scent - not that he smelled them. He liked to think he had yet to reach that level of perversion. But he could feel her essence in the fabric, as if her body left a sense memory in the fibers.

He had taken her panties from her because...well, because he could. It had been a harmless bit of mischief - a whim of the moment. She was a physically appealing, moderately amusing, completely baffling mortal girl who had braved his not inconsiderable fury to bring him a drink. It would be a bit of a lesson to her, and a bit of fun for him. It had been an act as close to innocent as he'd performed in months. But now it felt loaded. He wondered if she had taken that in the wrong context - like a little boy pulling a girl's hair because he liked her and didn't know how to say it. He also wondered if some part of him had meant it in the wrong context.

He thought about the other night when he brushed his fingers along her shoulder. He had only touched her so that she would not notice immediately that he had taken her bra as well (the slingshot panties had been such a success, he simply had to repeat the experiment - unfortunately the trebuchet bra was still under construction). Her skin had been warm and soft and she had frozen in what he'd assumed was fear. Looking back on it now - did she...even then?

He tried to find the humor in the situation. A silly little mortal girl fancied herself attracted to a creature such as himself. If she only truly knew him. He wasn't so handsome when he brought his birthright to the surface - every blue inch of it.

But this changed things. Knowledge always changed things - that was why he held such stock in it. He could use her physically. He could exploit her position in S.H.I.E.L.D. In truth, there was no one better for him to attach himself to. She was the least important member of their little group, but she was still privy to every detail. And they underestimated her. They would never suspect her - not truly. Not of being with him - helping him. Had this little alteration in her perception of him occurred but a few weeks ago...oh, how wonderful that would have been. But things were different now. He'd made his bed and he needed to lie in it - not light the damn thing on fire.

She shifted, tucking her legs underneath her – Loki was riveted. Looking at her now, it was like she had dipped herself in mercury. He had never really wanted to touch her before, but now that he couldn't - he simply needed to. And she had no idea that he knew. He wondered if even she truly accepted her desire for him.

For the God of Mischief.

He watched her tongue reach out to sweep a bit of green off her lip. He could lick those lips. He could lick whatever he wanted. She would let him - no, she would beg him. He would see to it that she did.

He wanted her. Not because he couldn't have her - amazingly, he could - but because he shouldn't. It would be very naughty, and he was trying so hard to be good.

But he certainly wouldn't be bored. And there was very little danger of her getting the upper hand. She was amusing, but insignificant. Mostly. He supposed he was...fond...of her. If pressed, he would admit that she was likely the closest thing he had to a friend since he'd left Asgard. Granted, he'd never wanted to taste the lips of any of the Warriors Three...but...hmm. Friendship, he would admit to, but his emotions extended no further. And they never would. That softness he'd witnessed come over men - the one that had come over Thor when he fell into his pretty mortal's lap - was not an emotion he was capable of.

He truly shouldn't touch her. But looking into her mind was like opening Pandora's box. It had released an idea that could not be recaptured. This was simply too tempting to resist. She was too tempting to resist. And she would make for an excellent diversion. The excitement of a new plan in motion started creeping up Loki's spine. Had he allowed himself to be seen now, Darcy likely would have been terrified by his smile. Loki was about to be a very bad boy. Mother would be so disappointed in him. He couldn't stop a laugh and he watched as her head shot up, looking in his direction with wide eyes.

"Loki?"

He didn't make another sound. Nor did he reveal himself.

Poor little Darcy had no idea just how far in over her head she was about to get.

This was going to be deliciously fun.