After Loki left, Darcy spent a terrifying hour looking him up on the internet (what a truly bad idea that turned out to be). Traumatized, she decided to ignore everything she had learned about her enigmatic lover and hope that most of it wasn't true. Scratch that, she would hope that all of it wasn't true.

She tried to find her happy place, but nerves and a strange sense of restlessness kept stealing over her. Now that their almost-friendship had turned into the 'with benefits' variety, well…what happened now? Would he just show up whenever he felt horny, like the alien-god version of a booty call? That felt somewhat degrading.

And she couldn't shake the feeling that somehow this was going to bite her in the ass – and not in the fun, kinky way. Loki wasn't a nice guy. He was complicated and though he obviously wasn't as evil as everyone had assumed, he was still kinda evil. Or, at the very least, completely socially handicapped. He stalked her for crying out loud! And then she slept with him. Damn, her life was like a bad soap opera.

But no matter how hot she found him, she had to remember that he wasn't a nice guy. Little tricks she could deal with, but what if he did something she just couldn't handle? He'd killed people before, he could do it again. Hell, the reason Jane was the Goddess of Sexual Frustration for those long months Thor was gone was because Loki had tried to destroy a whole realm (not just enslave it like he planned to do to Earth, which wasn't all that much better come to think of it).

She knew this would end badly. There really wasn't any other way for it to end. She just hoped she lived through it. Because she wasn't going to stop doing…whatever it was she was doing with Loki. There had been a glaring neon "Point of No Return" sign that had popped up earlier that morning and she had just ignored it and made him breakfast instead – turning a potential one-night stand of minimal consequence into something way more dangerous. But exciting. Too exciting.

Because she liked Loki. He was funny. And he was oddly charming. And she was always fascinated by whatever he said, even when he was being a snarky asshole – no, especially when he was being a snarky asshole. Not to mention that the sex was revelatory. She was simply drawn to him in a way that didn't make any sense.

But she wasn't stupid enough to become that clichéd girl who thought she could reform the bad boy. Loki wasn't a boy and she wasn't anywhere near that naïve. If he was going to change (and that was a big if), it was something he would have to do on his own. She wasn't foolish enough to think that treaties with mortals and promises to his brother were enough to stop him if he got pissed. Nor did she believe herself capable of helping him grow a conscience, like some sort of Jiminy Cricket (well, if Jiminy Cricket had banged Pinocchio, which would have been a bit questionable for a kid's movie).

Loki had issues she probably couldn't even comprehend, let alone try to help him with. Not that she was in a position to even offer that kind of help - they were secret friends with even more secret benefits.

Although his only-possibly reformed nature was a good reason for her to keep sleeping with him, if you really thought about it. Orgasms make you happy and reduce stress. Happy and stress-free people were less likely to bring about the apocalypse. Therefore, the world was probably a safer place if she kept giving Loki stress-relieving orgasms. And if for every one she gave him, he gave her at least three more in return – well, that was just the perks of the job, right? S.H.I.E.L.D. was all about saving the world and she was nothing if not their dedicated employee. She wondered if it could even count as overtime.

Darcy glanced at the clock and panicked. It was already evening and she had spent the entire day worrying about Loki like the Debbie Downer that she was. What if he was coming over tonight? He hadn't indicated that he was, but Loki never gave her any warning anyway.

She was wearing sweats and a t-shirt, for fuck's sake! That wasn't the femme fatale image she wanted to project. She spent the next hour alternating between making herself into the closest facsimile of a sex kitten that she was capable of being and telling herself off in the mirror for being the most ridiculous person in the world. Her current slutty attire had been a recent purchase that was somewhat mortifying considering she had bought it with Loki in mind before last night's debauchery ever happened. Hell, before it was even a vague possibility. She was such an idiot. He probably wouldn't even show up that night - and if he did, he'd laugh at her paltry attempts to look sexy for him. Mocking might even be involved.

Feeling like a silly woman anyway, she plopped on the couch and allowed her channel-surfing to stop at 'The Notebook'. While she would normally belittle anyone who liked such sentimental crap, no one was there to judge her. Well, at least she didn't think anyone was. (Hopefully, Loki was over the whole stalking phase.)

It was just her luck that an hour later she was half-buried in a mound of tissues, sobbing like a loon. Stupid Ryan Gosling and stupid Alzheimer's and stupid overly sappy movie.

So of course that was how Loki found her.

Crying like a bitch.

After leaving Darcy, Loki had spent the day with Thor and his woman. He had even knocked on their front door as both an attempt at civility and a precautionary measure (though it was a bit late for that – what had been seen could never be unseen no matter how much one might wish it so). Thor had been genuinely pleased that he had visited, and the brothers had taken a few more modest steps in repairing the damage that had been done to their relationship.

And he had taken Darcy's advice with Jane – he was polite to her and fought against the temptation to make her jump. He even asked about her research and then offered some (probably not wanted) suggestions in a tone that wasn't even a tad condescending. It was a truly heroic effort on Loki's part, but the look on his brother's face made it feel somewhat worth the sacrifice. Jane had just seemed confused by his new demeanor – though he supposed that was an improvement over the frosty bitch she usually was to him.

A few hours later, Loki was alone again and found himself having an internal debate. He had told himself that he would not spend too much time with Darcy, but he couldn't help anticipating the possibility of a repeat of last night's shockingly satisfying sexual encounter.

He'd never been with a mortal before, but she had certainly surprised him with her genuine enthusiasm for his touch and willingness to go along with his whims. He had given her a few commands that he knew must have sounded odd, but she had just shrugged and acquiesced. The fact that she bedded him for no reason other than the pleasure he could give her was as unsettling as it was gratifying. And there had been a lightness in the experience which he found incongruous with his past encounters. Sex had always been a means to an end - but this time sex was the end. It was unusual, but not unpleasant. Quite the opposite, really. For the moment, he was glad he had given in to the temptation.

As all other possible plans for the night involved significantly less chance of sexual gratification, he decided to visit Darcy despite his reservations. Even if sex wasn't forthcoming, she would doubtless entertain him. Her mind was the least linear of any mortal he had come across – it was fascinating. And she seemed to handle his games better than most.

He appeared in her living room and was met with a rather unpleasant surprise. Darcy was crying in the manner of one who has been truly overwhelmed by sorrow. What could have happened in the hours he had been away from her?

"Darcy?"

She jumped a bit and turned to him with a chagrined look on her tearstained face, "Of course you're here. That's the way my life works."

He sat next to her, feeling uncertain of the appropriate course of action.

"Has something unfortunate occurred?"

She shushed him.

She shushed him. Him!

"Just who do you think-," she shushed him again before he could get the words out and then gestured to the television in front of her.

An older actor was reading to an older actress while dramatic music played in the background. Darcy appeared riveted. It occurred to Loki why she was crying and he couldn't stop himself from staring at her incredulously. A movie?

Much more comfortable knowing that tragedy hadn't befallen the silly girl, Loki watched as the couple onscreen died in each other's arms. What a ridiculous mortal farce. Darcy just cried harder - he was vaguely concerned that she would die of asphyxiation. That would be ironic.

The credits began to roll and he just watched, amused, as she composed herself and turned to him, "Don't judge me. I have ovaries. I'm a girl. I'm allowed to watch shit like this if I want to."

Shaking his head, he replied, "Just to clarify, you are crying because two fictional characters in a movie died simultaneously at an old age after living mostly happy lives together?"

She sniffled pathetically, "Well when you put it like that, I sound like an idiot."

"That was your word, not mine. A bit dramatic was all I was going to say."

Giving him a look, she stood up to wash her face in the bathroom. Loki remained seated, transfixed by his latest discovery. He hadn't noticed her clothing when he arrived due to her emotional state, but he certainly noticed it now. She wore a silk negligée – short and low-cut. It was also emerald green.

She wore it for him. He knew she did. He shouldn't be so pleased - but he was. The girl may be mystifying in her emotions, but she certainly deserved a reward for her stimulating attire.

As she stepped out of the bathroom, face still damp from the cool washcloth she'd pressed upon it – Loki used her distraction to lift her into his arms and then transport them quickly to her bedroom, throwing her down upon the mattress before her squeak of surprise had even ended. He enjoyed the look of disorientation on her face.

"You can't keep doing that to me!"

He didn't even try to stop his smile, "Yes I can. And I will. You simply must accept that and move on." He crawled onto the mattress and hovered over her, watching as her eyes dilated. She wore her desire for him so openly, it was intoxicating.

He reached for the little silk strap on her shoulder, "Did you wear this for me?" He knew she did. He simply wanted to hear her admit it out loud.

She blushed – unexpected – and he found himself quite curious about what her response would be. She stared resolutely at his shoulder as she whispered, "I bought it for you."

She was telling the truth, which meant she deserved an even bigger reward. A question arose in his mind and he voiced it before truly thinking it over, "When?"

She blushed even darker, but made eye contact as she whispered, "About a week ago."

Loki couldn't stop a feral grin of satisfaction. He claimed her lips swiftly and thoroughly and felt her hands immediately sink into his hair. He pulled back, reveling in the dazed look on her face. As he slithered his way down her body, she raised a questioning eyebrow.

Loki just smirked and eased her thighs apart, letting his tongue demonstrate his appreciation.

Two weeks later, the Avengers and assorted lesser beings were scattered about the room, impatiently waiting for Fury to show up so they could start the damn meeting. Darcy was seated at the table across from Steve Rogers, doodling in her notebook and daydreaming. Suddenly, a flash of green entered her peripheral vision and her breathing stopped being involuntary. Oh shit.

Loki's arrival at the meeting seemed to confuse everyone but Darcy – she was too busy trying to act nonchalant to worry about why he was there in the first place.

After a quick greeting with his brother, Loki took the seat next to her with an air of a man with nowhere better to sit despite the multitude of options - demonstrating a thespian skill far more advanced than Darcy's. Bastard. They hadn't been together in public since the sexytimes started. And Darcy was a terrible liar – Loki knew she was. Sitting next to her was just mean.

She wasn't sure what to say to him - should she say anything to him? Would it be weird if she didn't? 'Hello' was neutral, right? This whole clandestine lovers thing was tricky. She was afraid that she'd go to say something like 'nice weather we're having' and end up yelling 'I love how you feel when you're inside me'.

That would be awkward.

In her intense concentration on her hands, she didn't notice that someone other than Loki was studying her. Loki's hand brushed her leg causing her to jerk her head toward him in a pathetically conspicuous manner. He just raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in Captain America's direction.

Huh. Steve Rogers was definitely looking at her funny. Well, more specifically, he was looking at her boobs funny. She'd caught him ogling her before – but this wasn't the same look. It was almost like he was trying to figure out some super-complicated math problem that just happened to be written across her boobage. Weird.

She tore a piece of paper from her notebook and wrote on it quickly, then waited until Steve glanced at Loki to hold it in front of her chest as inconspicuously as possible - she must have done a good job because no one else seemed to notice. Steve returned his gaze to her chest as if magnetized and she watched as he turned boiled-lobster red.

Hahahaha! Haha! Ha. Good times.

She put the paper down and suddenly noticed that everyone was now looking at her. Maybe she should have laughed internally. Natasha leaned across the table and grabbed the paper from Darcy's grip with the speed of a cheetah on cocaine. She read aloud, "I know they're nice - but eyes up here, Cap."

Now it was slightly less amusing, infinitely more awkward. Great.

Darcy hazarded a look at Loki, but he was currently giving Steve the same look one would give a naughty little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Everyone else was looking at Darcy suspiciously. Then at Steve. Then back at Darcy. Awkward.

The uncomfortable moment was broken by the arrival of the man they were all waiting for - Nick Motherfucking Fury (she refused to believe he had a different middle name).

He looked around the room, gaze pausing on the occupant of the seat beside her, "Ah, Loki - how nice of you to join us." There was a distinct lack of sincerity in Fury's voice and Darcy was pretty sure that was the reason behind what happened next.

Addressing the group, Fury asked, "So who has an idea on how to handle the Monteray situation?"

Everyone just stared at Fury silently, confused and disturbed. Who could formulate an answer with such a weird sight in front of them?

It was Tony who finally broached the subject, "What's with the bling?"

Fury just looked confused, "Bling?"

Tony gestured to his face, "The…patch. It's definitely a look."

Fury reached up to touch his face and then started, immediately turning toward the nearest reflective surface.

"What the fuck is this?"

Loki's voice rang out, tinged with mischief, "Most people would say thank you when given a present with as much monetary and emotional worth."

Fury turned to him with a scowl, "I should have known you would have something to do with this. Why the hell am I wearing a gold eyepatch?"

Loki looked at him innocently, "It is an adornment worthy of a king. You should feel honored."

Darcy mused aloud, "With that thing on, I can't tell if he reminds me more of a rapper or a pirate."

Loki turned to look at her, "Are the two mutually exclusive?"

Darcy began to imagine the amazingness of a rapping pirate until Fury yelled, "Change it back!"

Loki simply looked at him, "I cannot change it back. I never altered it in the first place. I told you it was an item worthy of a king. Literally. I simply borrowed it."

There was a tense silence while everyone seemed to be puzzling out Loki's words.

Then Thor spoke out slowly, "Brother, you do not mean to say that you have given him Father's eyepatch."

"He has several spares, it will not be missed."

Darcy's stomach clenched, "You gave him your dad's eyepatch? Dude, that's…gross."

Loki just shot her a wicked grin.

Fury reached up quickly to take the patch off, and everyone turned to stare at him. It seemed that they all were as curious as Darcy about what was going on under there…was it just empty…did he have a glass eye with something pimp written on it? To their shared disappointment, his hand paused before it was completely removed.

He leveled a one-eyed glare at an unapologetic Loki, "Switch it back. Now."

Loki did so with a sigh. As everyone was busy staring at Fury's more traditional black accessory, Loki sent a quick wink over to Darcy. She just shook her head a bit and gave him a small smile.

Neither noticed the one man watching their quiet exchange.

An hour after Loki played his little game with Fury, Darcy found herself being a good little worker bee in her tiny little cell of an office. When she heard the knock on her door, she praised every diety she could think of for the very welcome distraction and shouted out a greeting.

Steve Roger's uncomfortable face peeked around her door. That was unexpected, but he was always a nice guy (a little too nice sometimes) and she always found it funny to make him get all uptight.

"Cap! What's shakin'?"

He closed the door behind him gently and then cleared his throat. The look on his face made Darcy wish she had a lollipop to give him, like they did with children at the doctor. The poor dude was mustering up the courage for something. Oh crap – what if he was going to ask her out? He was staring at the girls today. That would be awkward. If he had asked her out a few weeks ago, she would have probably said yes (secret organization = finite dating pool). But now she was currently in a…thing…with the God of Mischief. And he was already more than she could handle.

"Hello, Darcy. I'm sorry to bother you but there was something I needed to ask."

He stopped talking. Darcy just looked at him for a minute before realizing he wasn't going to continue, "Oh! Well, ask away."

"I know this might sound crazy - and possibly disrespectful – but I found a certain…article of clothing in my room. I have no idea how it got there. It's obviously not mine, and I wasn't sure who it could belong to. And then it occurred to me that it might be yours. I mean – I have no idea how it came to be in my bedroom - honest, but…well, there weren't too many options for who it could belong to. And I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure it isn't Jane's. It could be Natasha's, but…well, it looks like it would fit more comfortably on you. Not that I was…I swear I wasn't…well, I mean I was looking at….but it wasn't because I'm some sort of pervert. Oh, man. Just tell me if you left a brassiere in my room so I can give it back before I go brain myself on my shield."

Oh! She'd almost forgotten about that.

What was she supposed to say? 'Yes' would lead to questions about why it was there - the boy scout never drank, so she couldn't play the whole 'you don't remember our beautiful night of passion, you cad!' angle. But she felt so bad for him - the dude was obviously really uncomfortable (he called it a brassiere for heaven's sake!) - and she didn't want him to worry that women's lingerie would just keep magically appearing in his bedroom. Poor guy would get an ulcer.

"Actually, you know that might be mine. I am missing a certain boob-supporting undergarment. I have no idea how it got in your room though. That's so weird. You know, it was probably that stupid God of Mischief. Certainly sounds like something he'd do."

She could see the light go on in his head as obvious relief spread throughout his body.

"Yeah, you're probably right. He's a real jerk."

Steve was still looking at her and blushing and she was smiling perhaps a bit too widely at the thought of the sneaky bastard who got them into this situation. So of course that was how Jane found them.

"Hey, guys. Am I interrupting something?" The little smile on Jane's face made Darcy realize that she was in the process of drawing the wrong conclusion.

Trying to clarify, Darcy told her, "No! It's just that Steve has my bra, and we're negotiating its safe return."

That was probably not going to help Jane come to the right conclusion.

"Oh! Well, don't let me disturb you guys. Keep…doing whatever it is you're doing."

She shot Darcy a not-even-remotely-secret thumbs up and backed out the door. Awesome.

Ah well - if everyone thought she was getting her flirt on with the Cap, no one would ever entertain the idea of her and the God of Mischief getting groiny. Loki and Steve - could there be two people more dissimilar?

Maybe she was better at this whole clandestine lovers thing than she thought.

A few hours later, Darcy found herself wandering the hallway, pretending to look like she was heading somewhere specific instead of mentally reenacting scenes from 'The Labyrinth'. Whatever – her job was menial. They only kept her on because they'd have to kill her otherwise – she knew too much and all that.

Lost in thought, Darcy was startled when a voice rang out behind her, "So, what's going on between you and the God of Mischief?"

Darcy's heart stopped, but she willed her face to remain neutral as she turned to face Tony. "What?"

"You and Loki. What's going on there?"

She tried to look confused, "Loki? Um...am I supposed to understand what you're talking about?"

"You seemed...close at the meeting."

"Well duh, we were sitting next to each other."

"And now you're deliberately playing dumb. Why does this worry me?"

"Because you're a crazy man?" She added as much incredulity in her voice as she could. "What do you think is going on between me and Loki?"

He seemed more serious than usual, "I don't know, that's why I'm asking you. Or I could ask Fury and get his take on it."

Threats. Lovely. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She decided to take a note from Loki's book and tell the truth - but not the whole truth. It made everything much more believable than an outright lie.

"We...talk. Sometimes. I guess you could call us friendly. Maybe."

He cocked his head, "Well that clears things up. You talk."

"Sometimes."

"Just talk?"

"Well, we watched a movie one time. Or, well, the end of one. He didn't seem to like it."

He looked skeptical, "Talking and a movie. If it's so innocent, why were you hiding it?"

She gave him her patented you're-a-moron look, "He's still the guy that brought Earth to its knees and nobody trusts him not to do it again. Why would I tell anyone that we're on friendly terms?"

Tony seemed to let that digest, "Fair enough. He's dangerous though, Darcy. It's not that I don't trust you, but I'm still going to Fury with this."

Oh no he didn't.

"Ok, and then I'll tell him that you always open with king's pawn." Tony looked a little startled. "We talk. He's a god. I'm as far from a god as you can get while still being sentient. So there's a finite amount of things we have in common. The Avengers is one of those things. You are therefore mentioned. Especially when he kicks your ass at chess. Have you told anyone you have weekly matches?"

"First of all, there was no ass-kicking. He got lucky - a few times. And that was a nicely executed bit of blackmail right there. Seems he's rubbing off on you."

Oh Tony had no idea just how much rubbing was going on…not the right time to be thinking about that.

Darcy sighed, "Look I know what I'm doing." Outright lie, she had to follow that up with something more believable. "Loki needs someone to trust in him. I'm not saying that I do. But I'm the only person other than Thor who seems even remotely capable of doing so." True. "And I'm being careful." Such a lie! "If he wanted something, he would just take it - he's not the type to wait around messing with someone as unimportant as me. You're the one with more leverage. I'd be more concerned about what he wants with you." True, but also not what she should have said. Loki seemed to like Tony, she didn't want to screw that up. "But as far as I can tell, he really enjoys playing with you – chess, I mean. And he's a big fan of your booze. He doesn't seem to have any ulterior motives there." Better, but maybe pushing it. This was hard. She needed Loki to come pretend to be her for a few minutes - he'd do a much better job.

Tony nodded at her looking thoughtful, "Yeah. He's…different."

She wouldn't argue with that.

"Look, Darcy. I like the guy. He's funny and intelligent. I've got my own issues, so I'm not going to judge him for fucking it all up. But, he's dangerous. I just don't want you to get hurt."

She hadn't realized Tony cared about her as more than part of the office furniture, "How can I get hurt from some conversation? I'll be fine. But if I feel like there's something I should tell you, I will. How's that sound?"

"Better. Not perfect though. Just be careful."

"I am! Chill out. It'll be fine."

Tony looked more like he wanted to believe her than he actually did believe her. But he nodded, gave her a wink, and walked off down the hallway throwing a goodbye over his shoulder.

Darcy waited until he was out of sight before releasing the breath she felt like she'd been holding since Tony opened his big mouth. He'd be watching them from now on. That could be a problem.

The only warning she had about Loki's presence was a strange chill along the back of her neck.

Wrapping around her from behind, a hand gripped her waist tightly – too tightly – and an ominous voice whispered in her ear, "Learn to lie better."

She spun, but he was gone by the time she turned around.

Heart pounding, Darcy stared vacantly at the empty hallway. She wasn't sure whether Loki's words had been a demand or a threat.

They certainly felt more like a threat.

She echoed the last words she'd said to Tony, "It'll be fine."

As her voice carried her declaration down the empty hallway, Darcy wished she could believe that was true.