**A/N**
The song attached to this chapter is sooooo befitting for this pair that there are no words, so please take the time to give it a listen. Shoutout to @Letloose33 for reminding me about it!
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When Loki asked Darcy to guesstimate how much time they had until Greg returned, her first thought was that he was going to suggest they celebrate the official beginning of their fledgling relationship by consummating it. And although her conscience and moral compass wouldn't have allowed it, her all-too-willing body would've had no objections.
But to her surprise/relief/slight disappointment, instead he suggested they make the most of the opportunity, and go and explore Paris together.
Insisting that she didn't want to wander around the ultra trendy capital looking 'scruffy' Darcy quickly swapped the jeans she had been wearing for a pair of smart black trousers, ignoring Loki's protests when she went into the bathroom to get changed. She left on the soft pink cashmere sweater she'd been wearing, but arranged a floaty scarf she'd bought from Camden market, casually around her neck. Although, 'casually' actually took several attempts to achieve, in order to get the look just right.
As she fiddled with it, she chattered excitedly about The Louvre Museum, raising her voice so he could hear her through the wall.
"It's the world's largest art museum isn't it? As well as a historic monument." She gabbled, purely to give the impression that she was cultured, and capable of being classy and knowledgable.
Besides she did like art. Even if she didn't know that much about it.
But for some reason she found herself wanting to impress her new beau. He was Loki after all, fiercely intelligent, sophisticated and.....overwhelming.
As she came back into the bedroom, her rambling subsided, as even her eyes stopped dead in their tracks, where they remained on something more gorgeous, more pleasing, than any Parisian art museum could hope to contain.
Loki had changed the illusion of his clothing, tweaking certain elements of his sexy black suit ensemble, so that he was now wearing a white shirt and black tie, as well as a smart, long black overcoat and a gentleman's silk dress scarf.
"I'm sorry, you were saying?" He promoted, raising a quizzical eyebrow at her.
"You look....amazing!" She told him honestly, knowing that she was probably drooling but deserved to be forgiven. Because in her opinion, any woman who ever saw Loki in a suit, would never quite get over it.
He gave a coy half-smile. "Thank you. As do you. But I'm certain that isn't what you were saying. You were talking about the Louvre."
Darcy gave a dismissive flap of her hand. "Pfft. Forget that, I have. Hey, if I wanna admire a precious work of art, all you gotta do is stand there and let me look at'cha."
Being able to give voice to her thoughts wasn't entirely a new experience for her. But expressing herself so honestly without embarrassment, most definitely was. And she found it incredibly unburdening and enjoyable. Especially when he responded so positively, looking almost bashful and boyish, as he rewarded her with an appreciative and completely unprompted hug.
They made their way downstairs and out onto the street, Darcy clutching a map that she'd picked up from the hotel reception. She didn't want to get lost in France, especially as she didn't speak a word of the language.
Though when she stopped to consider it, Loki was capable of navigating his way around foreign realms, so he shouldn't have any difficulty finding his way in a foreign country.
"I reckon we've got a couple of hours until Greg gets back." She told him, as they headed in the direction of the nearest metro station. "It's going to be a long wedding ceremony. They've paid for an orchestra, Greg said, and apparently there's going to be a flock of doves released too. Which seems kind of.....cruel. And stupidly expensive. But that crowd all come from money, so it's probably pocket change to them. I dunno why they didn't just go all-out, and get married in the freakin' Notre Dame cathedral."
Loki's lips pursed at the mention of Greg's name, but then his sulky pout gave way to his trademark smirk as he remarked, "I can imagine that might've only frightened or confused the other guests, as your soon-to-be ex boyfriend could so easily be mistaken for one of the gargoyles."
Darcy shot him a reproachful look, but had to suppress a giggle. "Don't be so mean. Okay so he's no oil painting, unlike yourself--"
"Oil painting? I'd liken him more to a quick sketch that's been scribbled by a blind artist. Perhaps the same artist in fact, who is responsible for that hideous illustration of me in that ridiculous book."
His churlishness made her hoot with laughter. "Ooh, listen you being all bitchy and everything! Who'd have thought it?"
"Not you, presumably."
"Well no. But anyway, come on! Greg's not ugly. Give me credit for having some taste. I thought he was cute. And anyway, looks aren't everything, are they?"
"No, not at all. Attraction isn't all about the physical. It's about attitude, humour, and chemistry." He gave her a poignant sidelong glance. "But his behaviour convinced me right from the start that he was undeserving of your affections."
Darcy felt her stomach do an impromptu back-flip, as it finally dawned on her that a lot of Loki's resentfulness towards Greg stemmed from his own feelings. And as they had developed, so too had his envy. And she felt a sinful thrill run through her at the thought. And the rush of happiness she felt made her almost deliriously dizzy.
But...
He had also done her a huge favour. By being so perceptive, he had pointed out that which Darcy he been reluctant to recognise.
That Greg -- in spite of his public 'nice guy' persona -- had been subtly controlling her, and altering certain aspects of her personality, bit by bit.
The oddest part about it was, she had been too blinkered to even notice. Had she really been so lonely, so desperate for love and companionship, that she'd been in denial and so easy to manipulate?
She shuddered. It was startling and unnerving, and it stirred up all kinds of emotions that she wasn't keen on examining too closely.
"I've been an idiot." She murmured, eyes fixed on the ground as they walked along side by side. "I didn't even notice at first. Then you started saying stuff that made me think, and even then it's like I didn't want to see it."
"You defended him." Loki said, bluntly. "But I refuse to accept that your feelings for him run so deeply, that you would make such excuses for him."
Worryingly, she felt tears suddenly prick the back of her eyes, but she held them in. "You're right, as usual. I don't love him. I just...liked the idea of him I guess."
"Explain."
"I mean, I sort of got pulled into the idea of him. Rather than seeing him for who he really is. He was so nice at first, and it made a refreshing change dating someone who wasn't a total loser. I liked that idea, of being coupled-up in a semi-committed relationship with someone who was sensible, and dependable."
"Semi-committed?" He echoed, looking suitably mystified.
"Yeah, that's basically like, dating someone seriously, where you meet each other's families, and maybe make plans for the future and stuff. It's not fully-committed, that's more like when you live together, and get engaged or married. But you see, I've never had a relationship last longer than a few months. Which is kinda pathetic, right? I'm twenty nine now. And it started to get to me, I guess."
"And so you were willing to settle for less? Out of sheer desperation?"
"Jeez, when you put it like that it makes it sound even worse!"
"You misunderstand me. That wasn't intended offensively."
"I know. Don't worry about it." She gave a disgruntled sigh. "The thing is, I don't really know what I was thinking. I don't get why I put up with his crap either. Maybe I didn't want to believe I could be so dumb--"
"Don't say that." He broke in, sharply. "You are not dumb. You're....human."
"Is that a another racial dig?"
He shook his head, looking very serious and contemplative. "No. I simply mean that you are not a robot. So you made a mistake, that's just poor judgement on your part. It's natural. You may have been naive, but that is what differentiates between a living being and a machine. And you mustn't blame yourself for his unacceptable behaviour or mistreatment of you."
She felt a lump beginning to form in her throat, which prevented her from responding. But thankfully by now they had reached the metro, which served as a perfect opportunity to change the subject.
His patience and understanding came as both a welcome surprise and a huge comfort. Admittedly she found it a little disconcerting, but it was still adorable all the same. And she honestly felt like if they continued the discussion, she was at risk of doing something terribly embarrassing and out of character.
Like crying.
And Darcy considered herself an ugly crier at the best of times, so she certainly had no desire to break down in front of Loki.
After agreeing that they wouldn't have time to visit as many of Paris' landmarks as Darcy would've liked, they settled on the most obvious choice of destination.
The Eiffel Tower.
Despite the impressive, enormous iron structure being a tourist haven, Loki was -- for once -- willing to make an exception, and suffer the large tourist groups, families, and other couples who had flocked to the landmark in droves.
Even though it was late afternoon in mid-February, there was still a vast amount of people there, which resulted in a very long queue, and equally long wait, to ride up in one of the elevators.
Realising she hadn't exchanged any of her money for euros yet, Loki was obliged to use his illusion trick again on some of her American dollars, in order for them to purchase two tickets. They then joined the crowd of fellow sightseers, rising up to the first, second, then finally the very top floor.
It was then Darcy became almost painfully aware of the other couples walking the perimeter of the platform. They were all holding hands, and giving each other loving looks and kisses.
Well, it was Valentine's Day after all, and there wasn't anywhere much more romantic than Paris on Valentine's Day.
But now she found herself not knowing exactly how to 'be' with Loki.
She hadn't really paused to give it much thought before, but they hadn't even touched at all since leaving the hotel room.
Now she was feeling decidedly awkward, wanting to touch him but not knowing how he would feel about it.
Would he be comfortable with a public display of affection? Because when they had kissed and embraced in a public place before, they'd both been slightly drunk, and she didn't feel able to have an outright conversation with him about it.
"If you look closely..." Loki spoke suddenly, shattering her thoughts. "You can see the Sacré-Cœur over there."
Darcy fished in her purse for her glasses, and peered through the wire barrier, squinting to see the building in the distance that he was pointing out.
Placing his large hands on her shoulders, he carefully positioned her so her gaze was aligned at the best vantage point, and then leaned in close to her ear.
"It's built on the highest point in the city, Montmartre." He explained, as she admired the architectural splendour as best she could from so far away.
"It's so beautiful." She exclaimed. "What's it called again?"
"The Sacré-Cœur. Otherwise known as the Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris."
Darcy gave a secretive smile, delighting in not only the marvellous scenery, but the closeness of his proximity. As he spoke his breath gently stirred her hair, and she could smell his exquisite aftershave delicately wafting from his oh-so-perfect skin.
And his voice. His voice caused a cluster of glorious tingles to wriggle their way down her spine.
"I love the way you sound pronouncing French words." She told him shamelessly. "I mean, I love the sound of your voice anyway. But I've never heard you speak with another accent before."
He cast an amused glance at her, and gave a wry smile. "Oh? Tu aimes quand je parle Francais?"
Her eyes rounded and he laughed softly, looking throughly pleased with himself. "I just asked if you like it, me speaking French?"
She nodded eagerly. "Hell yeah!"
He laughed again, sounding so genuinely amused and..happy, that it made her own heart swell with happiness. And she was overcome with the desire to kiss him into the middle of next week.
But she still wasn't sure how all of this worked now. She'd never felt so much like a love-struck teenager, out of her depth and comfort zone, and not knowing how to interact with the object of her affections. Should she just reach out and grab him? Or slink her arms around him? She was at a loss.
Another minor issue that was getting in the way, was the wind. It was very very breezy on the upper viewing area, and it was annoyingly blowing her hair around her face. She attempted to tuck it behind her ears, but it refused to stay in place long enough for her to make any move on him.
"Shit, my hair is going to be a tangled mess." She grumbled, trying in vain to smooth it down. "Tell me the truth. Does it look like a birds nest? And I don't mean a neatly made nest, obviously, I mean like one that's been made by a demented bird whilst under stress!"
Loki shook his head, his smile had become a wide grin, and his eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth. "No. I assure you, your hair does not resemble a birds nest. And, you surprise me. I thought you once claimed that you weren't like most mortals, and that you weren't obsessed with your appearance?"
"I'm not obsessed. But I do care about it. Besides, I want to look pretty for you." The words left her mouth almost involuntarily, and she felt herself blushing deeply.
Damn. That was something she'd never done before. Openly admitted that she wanted him to find her physically appealing.
Holding her gaze with a slow blink, he brushed the loose hair away from her eyes and mouth, and gathered all the long strands over her shoulder in one hand. Then with a subtle wrist flick, he conjured an elastic hair band.
"Where did you get that from?"
"I used conjuration. And it's one of my own."
"You tie your hair up?" For some reason she found the notion of him having his hair tied back, more fascinating than it should've been.
"Sometimes." He smirked, as he used it now to tie her own hair into a loose, side ponytail.
She swallowed hard, finding the gesture not only considerate, but somewhat sweet and intimate.
"Et voilà ma belle." He purred, the velvety tone of his voice caressing her ears.
"Did...did you say 'belle'?" She squeaked, feeling her chest tighten. "Belle is French for.....beauty, isn't it?"
"Beautiful." He clarified, his blue-green eyes searching hers. "My exact words were simply, 'there you go, my beautiful."
She felt the air whoosh from her lungs, and an entire swarm of butterflies began swirling and fluttering in her stomach. He had just referred to her as beautiful. And....more importantly, 'MY beautiful'
'My'
The 'my' she really liked.
This weighty compliment meant more to her than any other she had ever received in her life, and she had absolutely no idea what to do with it.
"You are uncommonly beautiful, for a mortal." He said, as if stating what he believed to be a blindingly obvious fact. "The word 'pretty' does not do you sufficient justice, Darcy."
Why did he make her name sound so sinful? She still wasn't accustomed to hearing him use it, and each time was like the first, and it had the most peculiar, deeply sensual impact on all of her nerve endings.
"If you keep being so sweet, I'm going to start wondering what you've done with the real Loki. Either that, or I'll be forced to kiss you." She joked, heart thumping so loudly in her chest, she wondered if he could hear it.
He brought his face down so it was level with her own. "Be my guest."
Taking that as all the invitation she needed, she pressed her hands to each side of his face, and kissed him as though she were dying and his lips were the life-giving elixir she needed to survive.
He ran a large hand up and along her back, the other resting at the nape of her neck, where his fingers gripped her firmly but tenderly.
Oh God, how was it even possible that every kiss she shared with him always seemed like the most spectacular lip-locking session ever?
Her eyes had flickered shut, and she found herself living only in that moment, revelling in the sensation. She used the tips of her fingers to trace along the sharp curves of his angular jawline, then down his slender neck. And all the while he kept on devouring her mouth with lovely, slow, probing, sensuous kisses.
They spent a delicious minute or two smooching up a storm, then ventured down to the cafeteria on the second floor, where they got coffee. Loki was delighted to find himself sipping a pumpkin spiced latte, but grumbled about the indignity of having to drink from a polystyrene cup, which made Darcy smile.
His complaining over something so trivial, his unwavering snobbery, served as a pleasant reminder that not everything had changed, and she found that comfortingly familiar, as she was still trying to come to terms with all that had happened, and the shift in the dynamic of their relationship.
"Is it as nice as the ones I make?" She teased, as they sheltered from the wind at the centre of the tower on one of the benches tucked away beneath the iron girders. "And be careful how you answer. This could be a deal-breaker."
"It most definitely isn't as delicious as yours, mores the pity." He replied gallantly.
"Good answer.
"It is the truth in actual fact."
"Hm, says the God of Lies--"
"You doubt me, Darcy?"
"It's probably safer that way."
"You wound me." He exclaimed, feigning hurt. Then he surprised her yet again, by wrapping a strong arm around her shoulders.
She turned her neck so she could stare up at him, agog. "This is....weird."
He raised his eyebrows slightly. "How so?"
Biting her lip, she gave a small shrug. "It's hard to explain. Just....you, being so nice."
"Nice?" His features crumpled into a look of exaggerated disdain. "I am not being nice. Is it not customary to give ones' significant other public recognition? And to show a certain amount of tenderness? I'm simply being affectionate and attentive."
"Yeah. That's being nice."
"Don't be absurd, woman--"
"Ah, see....now there's the grumpy God I know and love." She giggled, prodding him in the chest.
"Have I ever deliberately treated you unkindly?"
"Yeah actually, when we first met."
He narrowed his eyes, a small smile pulling the corners of his mouth upwards. "Time is a miraculous thing. A lot can change in a matter of a few weeks."
"And days." She pointed out.
"Hours." He riposted evenly. "But what exactly is your point? Are you adverse to my treating you with affection and consideration?"
"No of course not." She said, a little hastily. "It's just....It'll take some getting used to. I'm still trying to get my head around it all. I mean, I'm sat cuddling in public with the notorious God of Mischief. Which I never would've expected to be doing, not in a million years. But.....here we are."
"This is not cuddling." He objected. "And am I really such an anomaly? That you find the reality of our union, so daunting?"
"Yeah, pretty much. But it's not necessarily a bad thing. Far from it. At least whatever happens from here on in, certainly won't be boring."
"Has it ever been? Even before....this?" To emphasise his meaning, he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and she melted against him, tucking her head into the space just beneath his armpit.
"No it hasn't. I'll give you that." She grinned, inhaling the scent of him deeply. "It never has been, and never could be boring being with you, Loki."
The pair finished their coffee, and strolled leisurely around the platform, taking in the stunning views of the Trocadéro Gardens, and the bridges across the river Seine.
Darcy took dozens of pictures on her phone, including several selfies of them both.
At first he obliged her by smiling dutifully, until his patience began to wear thin, causing his smile to give way to looks of exasperation, and his eye-rolling became apparent in the pictures.
"You and that infernal device. Haven't you taken enough now?"
"Just a few more, that last one was a bit blurry."
"You've taken dozens already." He protested, with a huff.
"Just one more, c'mon smile!"
"No. I've got cramp in my face from smiling."
Choosing to ignore him, Darcy kept the phone held in front of them at arms length, whereupon he suddenly snatched it from her hands, and threatened to throw it over the side.
"You wouldn't dare!" She warned, silently cursing her legs for being so short. Her attempts to jump up and snatch it back from him, were all in vain, as he held it aloft, high above his head.
"Oh, wouldn't I?"
"Loki, don't!"
She watched helplessly in horror as he stuck the cell phone through one of the small gaps in the wire barrier, and let it fall from his hand with a gleeful smirk.
"Oh my God, no!"
"Oh your God, yes!" He snickered.
"Fuck! Loki!" She yelled, pressing her hands against the fence. "I can't believe you did that! You asshole! That was practically brand new!"
Furious, she turned to unleash a torrent of verbal abuse on him, just as he extended his open hand toward her. It shimmered, and her phone miraculously reappeared.
She stared at it -- mouth hanging open like a beached fish -- then stared at him. His shit-eating grin was still firmly in place, and she could tell he was fighting to contain his laughter.
"You little shit!" She cried, voice wavering between annoyance and relief. "You nearly gave me a coronary!"
She took the device from him, shaking her head, and his eyes glittered with devilment. "I can't believe you fell for that."
"Alright no need to rub it in, frickin' trickster!"
No longer able to suppress his amusement, Loki threw back his head and burst into unrestrained laughter, and she couldn't be mad at him. He was beyond adorable, being mischievous and playful. She did her best to look stern -- which was next to impossible -- as she grasped him roughly by the tie and yanked him forwards. He put up no resistance, allowing himself to be yanked, and bending down so that they were nose-to-nose.
"You're a very bad man, Mister Odinson. You need to be taught a lesson."
His mouth flexed with lingering amusement. "Oh? I shall look forward to receiving my punishment immensely, Miss Lewis."
After taking one last poignant look over the Paris skyline, they climbed back into the glass-walled elevator.
"Aren't you hungry?" She asked, noticing the time on her phone screen. Her own stomach was beginning to rumble, so she was surprised Loki's hadn't ingested itself by now.
"Ravenous. Do we have time to eat?"
"I don't think so. I wouldn't like to risk it."
"Explain to me again why you feel the need to be at the hotel when that cretin returns? What does it matter?"
"He's already pissed at me, and I don't wanna make things worse. We still need him to get back to New York, remember?"
Loki brought his palm up to his face, closing his eyes in frustration. "Unfortunately yes I do. Alas, I agree it is wiser to edge on the side of caution. We must be pragmatic about all of this." He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth briefly, looking thoughtful. "And if we must go back now, then dinner can be on him."
She grinned up at him. "You're a man without scruples. Hotel restaurant it is then."
"I was thinking more along the lines of....room service?"
"Perfect."
Darcy was feeling light as a feather, practically floating on air, as they made their way back to the metro. She couldn't remember ever having felt so blissfully content. The warm, fuzzy feelings were unnerving, but she wouldn't let herself be bogged down by over-analysing the way in which her heart felt full to the point of bursting.
It was bursting with renewed hope. Happiness....Love.
Oh dear.
She'd already admitted to adoring Loki, and she could feel herself falling....deeper and deeper, so now she was dangerously close to being full-blown in love with him.
Which could only be a bad thing in the long-run. And she inwardly scolded herself for being so damn susceptible to his charms.
But she realised, as they walked along -- now arm-in-arm -- that for some peculiar reason, she found it all too easy to love him. In fact, loving him was the easy part. Overcoming the myriad of difficulties that said love presented, would be the challenging part.
Once they arrived back at the hotel it was already dark out, so Darcy switched on the bedside lights, casting a warm, cozy glow over the room, whilst Loki reached for a menu, and picked up the phone to order room service.
"What would you like? Shall we just order everything?"
Darcy made a face. "Would you eat everything?"
"I believe I'm hungry enough to."
"What, even the gross stuff like frogs legs and snails?"
His nostrils flared comically at the very suggestion. "Certainly not, why would I? That's disgusting."
She laughed uncontrollably. "Well then, wouldn't it be better to play it safe? That menu is in French."
"I can read French, not just speak it." He pointed out. "What are your preferences?"
"How about pizza?"
"You have the opportunity to sample some of the finest French cuisine, yet you want Italian?"
She nodded. He stared at her nonplussed, one dark brow raised quizzically higher than the other. But then his handsome face split into a wide grin.
"As you wish, my lady. Pizza it is."
A waiter arrived at the room promptly, carrying a large tray laden with the most delicious-smelling pizza, garlic bread, a selection of cakes, and a bottle of wine, which Loki had the forethought to add to their order.
The two of them sat cross-legged on the thick, comfortable rug at Darcy's insistence, having what she liked to refer to as a 'carpet picnic.'
Loki slipped out of his suit jacket, and sat relaxed, shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, tie loosened, as they devoured their meal together.
They ate from each other's plates, talking and laughing the whole time, like lovers.
And it felt delightfully natural.
Once they had drank most of the wine and eaten the pizza, they sat side-by-side, propped against the bed.
"God, I'm stuffed. That pizza was so filling." She remarked, resisting the urge to open the top button on her trousers.
Holding out a slice of red velvet chocolate cake, he leaned across toward her. "Not too full I hope, we still have dessert. Can I not interest you in something naughty but nice?"
She inclined her head, his wicked grin making her smile uncontrollably. "You already have! And you know how I can't resist naughty but nice."
"Then perhaps we should forgo dessert, of the edible variety at least."
"Stop it! Don't tempt me!" She took a small bite, and felt her cheeks heat as he watched her mouth intently as she chewed.
Taking the rest of the slice from his hand, she proffered it to him and he readily took it all between his teeth, making her giggle.
"Tasty but messy." She noted, holding her hand out in front of her, inspecting her fingers, which were now covered in chocolate frosting. "Which is a lot like being involved with you."
Loki laughed with some difficulty as he swallowed the cake, then reached out and took her hand in his. Her eyes were glued to him as he raised it then slowly put the tip of her forefinger into his mouth. She bit her lip, feeling her pulse begin to race, as he watched her closely, to see how his actions affected her.
Sweet baby Jesus. She felt like she was going to swoon.
He nibbled on the tip, then took it in his mouth, licking the frosting off sensually. Darcy could barely hold his heated eyes. As crude as it sounded, the look in them alone almost made her orgasm on the spot.
She swallowed hard. "L, are you trying to seduce me?" She teased, but her voice quivered traitorously.
"Indeed I am." He answered plainly, as he leaned down, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
It was a delicious, hungry kiss. Full of heat and passion. Their mouths opened, and she felt his tongue slide against hers. He tasted like strawberry chocolate, and sugar, and all the reasons why good girls ended up not going to heaven.
He tasted like heaven.
And she was lost -- in France -- so to speak.
But not in the conventional sense, as she had earlier feared, but to Loki of Asgard.
She was lost in him, in his passionate, seductive beauty.
"Mm. You taste like chocolate." He whispered against her mouth.
"Actually, I think that's you." She kissed the corners of his mouth carefully, and he held completely still, letting her kiss him.
"You're delicious. More so than any damn cake could ever be."
She smiled, elated by this admission. "So are you."
His hands slid into her hair, intent on kissing her again, but she instinctively gripped his wrists, making him stop short.
"What?"
"Your hands are sticky, you'll get chocolate in my hair and then Greg might--"
"Darcy." He said haltingly. "I am trying to seduce you here, so if you don't mind please shut up, and bloody well let yourself be seduced!"
Laughing nervously she loosened the grip on his hands. God she was being an idiot. "Mmm...I love it when you get all demanding."
His lips found her neck and she gasped breathlessly, eyes rolling back into her head.
Just then, they heard an ominous clicking sound emanating from the door, which instinctively caused them to fly apart. Darcy looked up just in time to see the door handle move, and seconds later the door opened.
Hurriedly she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, worried she might have frosting on her lips, which could be a testament of her guilt.
Greg took a half-step into the room then froze, his brown eyes visibly narrowing as he took a moment to process the scene in front of him.
"Well this looks cozy." He grated, scowling with disapproval. "And how much exactly did all of that cost? I've already eaten downstairs."
"Well we haven't." Darcy fired back, hackles immediately rising.
He'd come into the room now, letting the door slam loudly behind him. He stood above the pair or them, his arms folded. "And why's he in here? He's got his own room down the hall."
"'He'.....has a name." Loki said with eerie calmness. "And I don't take kindly to being spoken about as if I weren't even present."
For a split-second Greg looked like he was about to retaliate, but Darcy broke in before he had time. No doubt saving his skin by doing so.
"Wait, what do you mean 'down the hall?' I thought Loki's room was next door?"
His scowl deepened, merging his thick brows into a wiry line above his eyes. "No, it isn't. How do you not know where it is? Are you telling me that he hasn't even been to his own room yet?" He hurled at her, accusingly. "What have you been doing all afternoon?"
"Again, may I remind you that I am here." Loki chimed in, tersely. "And if you do not address me with the courtesy I deserve, you will regret it--"
"We've just been hanging out." Darcy cut-in again, noticing the way Loki's expression was rapidly tightening from a look of tolerance to violence.
Even in spite of how horrid Greg could be, she still felt a stab of guilt. The past couple of hours might've made her feel comfortable with having Loki and Greg coexist in her own private moral universe -- for a limited time at least -- but this level of deception, knowing that she'd just been kissed silly by Loki right before Greg arrived in the room, was another matter entirely.
"Would you mind giving me a moment alone with my girlfriend?" Greg looked directly at Loki, and Darcy cast a nervous glance at him.
His eyes perceptibly darkened as he glowered at Greg, his face creasing with irritation.
Fearing the worst, Darcy gently touched his arm. "Pragmatic, remember?" She felt compelled to remind him, in hushed tones.
It seemed to take him a measured amount of effort to tear his glare away from her redundant boyfriend, but when he finally did, he gave a small nod.
A tense silence had descended on the room, as Loki begrudgingly rose from his position on the floor, turning his shirt sleeves back down as he did so.
"Here, you'll need this." She said, scrambling to her feet to retrieve the keycard for his room.
Their gaze met for a fleeting moment as he took it from her, and she hoped he could recognise the desperate pleading look in her eyes. She sincerely hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid, like a vanishing act.
"I'm trusting you." She told him, with a small, anxious smile.
"As I am you." He retorted, stiffly as his spine, before turning on his heel, and flouncing out through the door with all the dramatic flair of a brooding, gothic hero.
The door hadn't even had time to close properly, when Greg erupted. "What the hell was that all about?" He demanded. "All those cryptic looks and whispers? It's like you're speaking in secret code!"
"Don't be stupid, Greg. You don't understand--"
"Too right I don't understand. Are you going to tell me what's going on or what?"
Darcy felt her own temper begin to flare. She had been having a wonderfully romantic -- almost magical -- afternoon. And now he'd come crashing in, never missing an opportunity to have a go at her. She took a deep breath, and tried to count to ten in her head, even though she was internally screaming. She knew it was imperative she kept calm, but never before had she been so dangerously close to verbally ripping him a new asshole.
"I will, if you'll give me chance to explain!" She ground the words out through clenched teeth. "I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on him. Which involves, you know, actually keeping my eyes on him. Which means us both being in the same room at the same time."
Greg's confusion was immediately evident, as he stared at her askance. "What do you mean? Why are you keeping an eye on him, of all people?"
"That's my job, Greg. I get paid to watch him."
"You? Get paid to watch an alien terrorist?" He exclaimed in shocked disbelief. "You?"
Darcy bristled, almost itching with anger.
So, he doubted her capabilities to? Well, screw him...she thought, sourly.
"Yes me."
He was looking at her now with undisguised derision. As if the concept of any girlfriend of his being employed for such a menial task, was highly offensive to him.
"So you're......you're nothing more than a glorified babysitter?" He said, almost accusingly. "Or has that somehow escaped your notice?"
"Huh! I'm the most badass babysitter you're ever gonna meet. Do you have any idea the balls it takes to babysit the Goddamn God of Mischief? You wouldn't have the balls to do it!" She snarled, taking a step toward him, chin tilted upward in defiance. "And FYI, Loki's no baby. He's most definitely all man.....I've noticed that much for sure!"
"Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"If you're so smart, you figure it out!"
"Don't take that tone with me, Darcy. You're expected to meet my friends, my work colleagues, later. And I've told them all you work for S.H.I.E.L.D--"
"I DO work for S.H.I.E.L.D!"
He snorted rudely. "You call that a job? Hanging out with a war criminal? It's embarrassing. It's insulting."
"I don't actually give a shit what you or your friends think, to be honest." She flailed her hands around wildly. The words suddenly pouring from her, as all of the frustration she'd kept tamped down for so long, came flooding out like a river that had burst it's banks. "I'm so sick and tired of you always speaking to me like I'm a child, and forcing your opinions on me. It's like I can't do anything right and I'm never good enough for you. Well I am so done with it. Do you hear me? Done. I'm not doing this anymore!"
They held each other in semi-hostile looks for what felt like an eternity. Darcy regretting having vented her true feelings, in case she had ruined everything by letting her mouth run away with itself, and Greg, apparently taken-aback by her unveiled intolerance of his bullshit.
"So what are you saying? You're breaking up with me?" He blinked at her in almost animated slow-motion, like a cartoon character. Then he completely floored her by adding waspishly, "I've been thinking this wasn't really working out anyway, but after I had to tell everyone that you'd be joining me here, I couldn't exactly tell them that we'd split up."
An involuntary gasp escaped her slightly parted lips. "And when exactly did you decide that this wasn't working out?"
"Does it matter?"
She thought about this for a moment, then shook her head. No it didn't matter. If anything, she felt nothing but relief, as if the weight of the world -- or all nine of them, in fact -- had been lifted off her shoulders.
"But you'll still have to come to the wedding reception with me." He informed her matter-of-factly.
"Why?" Her eyes rounded. "They don't know me, I wasn't invited."
"I mentioned you were coming, they're expecting you now."
"Well they'll have to unexpect me. It's sweet of them, but there's no way I'm going to go now. We've just broken up--"
"They don't need to know that. So you'd better not show me up, Darcy." He warned.
She dragged her fingers through her hair, accidentally pulling her ponytail loose as she did so.
"So let me get this straight. You'd rather spend the evening pretending we're still an item, just because you don't wanna lose face in front of your friends? Wow, Greg. Wow." She said with a ghost of her usual sarcasm, which never failed to rile him. "I'm not doing it."
"Oh, you'll do it." He hissed, and he was all-up in her grill now, which she didn't like one bit. And she would've shoved him away, but his next words made her falter...."If you want to get home, you'll do it."