Or Know your way around the kitchen: Darcy's guide to using a frying pan, with the special appearance of one well-loved God of Mischief.
"Oh, for the love of-" Darcy stopped midsentence and squinted. Of all the things that happened during rainstorms blackouts bugged her out the most. This became especially clear on nights such like these ones when she had just finished an entire season of one horror show that made her terrified of her own shadow. "Where the heck did I put that stupid light?"
The wooden floor squeaked under her feat and she hurried forward, accidentally bumping her toes against a chair. Spitting out a string of curses Darcy bent to massage the abused appendages. Her next move was to avoid bumping into anything again. Through the darkness she made her way to the kitchen. Once there the bespectacled woman grabbed the first thing she could reach, planning to use it as protection. The rain was beating a steady rhythm against the window, lightning accompanied by thunder occurring every now and then. "Thor, nice of you to play the soundtrack of my life," mumbled Darcy rather sarcastically.
Behind her something made a loud noise. Rather like a soldier Darcy spun around bringing her weapon down on whatever, or whoever, the unlucky disturber was, all the while she screamed bloody murder. Her unfortunate victim grunted at the impact but did not move. Darcy was about to deliver a second blow when the lights flicked on.
Loki stood before her, a haughtily and mildly annoyed expression firmly plastered on his face. Emerald eyes flashed with warning and for some unknown reason it provoked Darcy. It never did occur to her that her mighty weapon was in fact a frying pan and that the image presented was absurd at best. Again she hurled it at him. This time Loki dodged letting the pan clatter to the floor and scowled at the woman. "What in the name of Yggdrasil are you doing, foolish human?"
"Teaching you how to use a door like any other civilized being on Earth!" she yelled and promptly dashed to the floor, fingers curling around the discarded object. She brought herself up and advanced towards a very irritated Loki. "Is it so hard for you to do this one little thing?"
"Daft woman! I can perfectly well transport myself anywhere I want to go; why would I use the door?" he asked, utterly confused about the fuss she was making.
"You are missing the point Loki. It is not polite to just pop over, or whatever you call it, at someone's house." Darcy said slowly as if explaining this for a child.
Rolling his eyes, Loki leaned in, closing the distance between them. "I do what I want." he whispered against her mouth.
"The hell you do," growled one cross Darcy, a mere second away from intimately reacquainting him with the pan again.
Just as she was about to pound him senseless he vanished into thin air. With a sigh of despair Darcy put the pan back on the counter and brushed her fingers through her tousled hair. "At least the light is on now."
Humorous piece for the beginning of this year. A short little thing that came to me out of nowhere. I hope it brought a smile to your face. :)