puella-magi-homura-akemi asked you: prompts for odinsons are banished! Jane and Darcy decide to show Thor and Loki around town, like take them to a mall or a Wal-Mart or something, & drama happens. Or Loki gets bored & decides to explore. Or both.

mujaki said: Darcy is something of a periphery character in these drabbles (the better for Lokane goodness), but she and Thor have an interesting thing going on… how about something from her perspective starting from when the "pets" showed up?

Wherein Darcy and Thor go shopping while Loki and Jane... whatever. (Humor. G.)

(Vaguely combined the two. Sort of. In a way. I just wanted to write something fluffy, okay? I DON'T WANT TO HURT ANYMORE.)

Darcy always wanted a dog.

Not one of those little yappy squirrels-on-leashes things, either; she wanted a golden retriever like Shadow from Homeward Bound, which was her favorite movie. Sneezing whenever she's within ten feet of fur kind of put a damper on that, but she never stopped hoping that one day she'd find a big fluffy hypoallergenic friend who would sit on the couch with her and watch TV and eat her leftovers and maybe play fetch sometimes.

Only took eighteen years, but now she's got one.

And it's awesome.

Okay, so technically he's an alien, not a dog. But that's even better, really. You can't do Jägerbombs with actual dogs. Not even in New Mexico.

Of course — like her mom always warned her — pets take work. You have to take care of them, clean up after them, and make sure they're always fed.

That last part's the hard one.

Thor is always hungry.

"All right." Darcy pulls a thing of Orville Redenbacher's off the shelf and holds it up for Thor's inspection. Way up. Dude is tall. "This? Is popcorn. Dinner of champions."

Thor pokes at the label, clearly lost. "There is sustenance in this tiny box?"

"Yup. Like, zillions of calories. It should keep you going for awhile."

"How is it created? Magic?"

"Microwave. No—" Darcy cuts him off before he can start objecting "—don't even say it."

"It is dark sorcery. Roasting food over a flame—"

"—takes forever and is pissing Jane off. And all my clothes smell like smoke. Start using modern conveniences before you starve to death."

"My brother will not agree."

"Your brother's never had extra-cheesy movie butter."

Thor is getting a lot of stares. It's not from the way he's mystified by the cans of Campbell's, either. Puente Antiguo is a teeny place by any standard, and six foot four inch blond muscle-y gods don't walk through the U-Save every day of the week.

Also, it's kinda hard to miss how Jane's dirtbag ex's clothes fit this guy like a glove.

Another perk to alien over dog.

The end haul is popcorn, four Tombstone pizzas, two trays of Oreos, three tubes of sour-cream-and-onion Pringles, and five boxes of ham and cheese Hot Pockets. And what's basically a barrel of Folgers. "This should last a couple days, at least," Darcy says, handing off the bags to Thor. "Now, movies."

Thor doesn't even pretend to keep up while Darcy flips through the Red Box screens. That's good, 'cause she doesn't exactly know how to explain it. "We better pick something with explosions," she says. "Overhearing them go at it like bunnies is getting pretty gross."

"I would say they are more like bilgesnipe during mating season."

"I don't know what that is, but it sounds gross."

"It is. But necessary. Otherwise the bilgesnipe go mad and trample everything in their path."

"I'm not saying the metaphor doesn't work, just that it's gross. Now shut up, I'm trying to choose."

Thor shuts up. According to what Loki's always implying, that's weird for his brother. But Darcy doesn't see it. Thor was kinda standoffish that first day, sure, but then Darcy gave him Pop-Tarts and since then they've got along great. Just keep Thor from getting hungry and show him stuff he doesn't know about and he's cool.

People aren't so complicated as everyone thinks. Just don't sweat the small stuff, and life's a breeze.

Darcy checks her watch. They've been gone for forty-five minutes; that's not enough time for whatever to be done. "I think we better do Transformers," she says, poking the Red Box screen. "Lots of super-loud things blowing up."

"Loud enough?"

"Probably. I'll let you crank the remote just in case."

"Thank you."

Darcy and Thor agreed pretty much immediately that Jane and his brother should be left alone to do… stuff… as much as possible. Sometimes that's the two of them fussing over star charts and doing science to find another wormhole to whatever alien planet sent Thor and Loki here to begin with. And sometimes it's whatever incredibly noisy things they get up to in Jane's trailer… and in the lab shower… and one time what sounded like on the roof lawnchairs. Ew.

Still, Darcy's not complaining. Jane's been a whole lot less cranky over the last few weeks. And Loki— well, Darcy doesn't know what Loki's usually like, but Thor says this is an improvement, so who's she to argue? As long as they turn up to be fed once in awhile so Darcy can be sure they're not going to die (which was at least half her job as Jane's intern to begin with), she doesn't care what they do.

She grabs Independence Day too, just in case. "I think you'll like this one," she tells Thor. "It's got aliens. 'Course, they're gross and slimy and not hot, but still."

"Not hot? Are they frozen, then, as Frost Giants?"

"No, I mean, hot, like, you know—" she gestures vaguely at Thor "—hot."

Nope, he's not getting it. Cute, but a little slow on the uptake. But then, so are golden retrievers. "Never mind," says Darcy. "We'll pick up a couple Channing Tatum flicks tomorrow and then it'll all make sense."

"You are very wise, Darcy Lewis."

"Yeah. I know."