Loki's breath moves against Darcy's skin when he whispers "Thank you." It makes her simultaneously flush and shiver to the base of her spine. When he presses his lips to hers he's gentle, but not shy. It's practiced. He moves to kiss her top lip, then her bottom, and then he moves to the center and flicks his tongue against her mouth so softly she parts her lips almost unconsciously.

He brushes his tongue inside just a little, and before Darcy can even react he withdraws, and then does it again, this time flicking the tip of her tongue. Darcy leans forward, but he leans back and smirks. And then he does it again, and again, and again, just barely touching the tip of her tongue over and over like it is...

"Ohhhh..." Darcy gasps.

She can feel him smirking as he leans forward again and this time he traces the outside of her lips lightly with that very talented tongue.

She suddenly has a very vivid picture of exactly what he wants to do with her, and it's delicious. A moan floats through the air and it takes a moment for her to realize it came from her.

He huffs a soft laugh, and she swallows. Her body is reacting probably just the way he wants it to, he's so practiced at this...it's almost scary.

She pulls back just a little, and Loki kisses her more firmly. She pushes that niggling feeling down deep.

Loki shifts his weight. The hand intertwined with hers squeezes tighter, the other hand wraps around her waist and pulls her around so she's on his lap, her back to the fire, her knees by his hips. He's already hard, just below her, and even through their clothing the feeling is intense. Loki lets go of her hand and suddenly both of his hands are on her hips, pulling her down. Not hard, not insistent, just firm, careful and controlled, his mouth softly sucking on her lower lip.

It feels so good, everything fades to black; it takes Darcy a few moments to realize that she's closed her eyes. She's afraid to open them. Maybe because it's a dream, maybe it will end, it probably should end, she's way out of her depth here...

He guides her hips so she slides against him and she whimpers.

...stupid, stupid, stupid, brain shut up! This is a once in the lifetime chance and she should grab it with both hands...

His hands slide down along her backside and...ohhh. She has a sense of vertigo, pulls away from his mouth and leans forward so her chest is pressed against his. Her mouth goes to his cheek. With her eyes still closed, she finds one of those raised ridges on his cheek and kisses it.

Loki takes a sharp breath of air, his hands shudder, his hips buck slightly. He ducks his head down to the corner of her neck and shoulder and gasps. He suddenly doesn't seem quite as controlled. And that's kind of a relief. Emboldened, Darcy brings her hands around and runs them down the flat planes of his back - and finds it isn't so flat. Through the light sweater he is wearing she can feel tiny ridges like the ones on his cheeks. She rakes her nails down the paths they make. He bucks beneath her, catching her just at the right spot, and she bites her lip at the sensations. She hears a moan. It's his, not hers this time.

Loki takes a deep breath and she's suddenly on her back on the floor so quickly she's not even sure how it happened. One of Loki's knees is between her legs, pressed to her center, he's got her hands pinned above her and he's holding himself above her. She can barely make out anything besides his glowing red eyes, but he looks almost angry. She swallows.

"Loki?" she says.

He silences her with a kiss that is a little too hard, his hands on her wrists slide to her hands and holds them with a little too much force. Still, with his knee where it is, the warmth of the fire and the fact that it's him, it is almost okay.

There is the sound of a lock clicking open. Leaning down he nips her neck and there is a swirl of green. Something soft but very cold is beneath Darcy's back, and it's very, very dark. It takes her a moment to realize that they're in Loki's room, on his bed. Loki is panting at the crook of her neck, the hands holding hers relax a fraction, and when his lips meet his he's gentle again, controlled, lips fitting hers perfectly.

But it's not working. She's trying to respond, but she's cold, and she's a little scared. She tries to bring her hands to his back, to slip them up under his sweater, but he catches them and his body stills. The red eyes are above her again, and his hands squeeze, and she thinks he's angry. But then he drops his forehead to hers and whispers. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He kisses her again, letting the length of his body touch hers, his chest pressing to her breasts, their hips only separated by a few thin layers of fabric, and it feels good again, really good, but she can't seem to make her lips move.

Loki lifts himself up, so his weight is on his hands . She can barely make out anything but his shadow. Bending his head down, he presses a kiss on her cheek by her ear and whispers, "Darcy, is this alright?"

His breath is so close to her ear, like a caress again...Darcy blurts out, "Yes," before she even really thinks about it.

Loki lets out a breath of air like he is annoyed. "Darcy, don't lie to me."

Darcy swallows and scrunches her eyes shut, not that it matters here in the dark if she closes her eyes. "Maybe. I don't know. I can't see even you. Where are your eyes?"

She feels the mattress sink as Loki falls onto the bed next to her. A light by the bedside brightens slowly until the bed is bathed in a warm glow.

Loki is lying on his side, in his Asgardian form again. Startled, Darcy pulls away, just a little. "It's not because you're a frost giant!"

He looks at her hard for one long moment, and then blue sweeps across him and his eyes go from green to glowing red. Darcy relaxes a little.

Taking her hand, Loki kisses her knuckles. "I know," he murmurs. He says it in the exact same tone you might say thank you. Pulling the hand from his lips, he intertwines their fingers and stares at Darcy.

"What's wrong?" he says, his voice so low and cultured and smooth. It makes her stomach twist and she can't meet his gaze, because nothing is wrong...but it is... "I don't know...I...I really like you, and you're about the only person around here who takes me at all seriously and treats me like I have a brain, and I know you're leaving and this isn't going to happen again, or maybe it will while you're here, and I could help you get over your whole issue of being a frost giant, and that should be great but somehow it isn't, and you're leaving..."

She stops because she's about to sob, which would be even more pathetic than the gibberish that just spouted out of her mouth.

Loki looks at her for a moment and then stares down at their entwined fingers. He moves her hand against his, flexing their digits. It seems like forever but at last he says slowly, "I'm leaving. And you feel...expendable."

Darcy takes a strangled little breath. She feels incredibly stupid. And all of about 12 years old. "Maybe a little," she says.

Not looking at her, he smirks a little ruefully. "I can't make that feeling go away, Darcy."

His eyes meet hers, and the smirk drifts away. And then all business like, he sits up and stands from the bed. He holds a hand to her. Not looking at her, he says in a voice so inflectionless it would make Agent Coulson proud, "Come on, you had better leave."

Darcy hesitates only a moment and then takes the proffered hand. He leads her to the door. Just before opening it, he stops and looks down at their fingers. Lifting his gaze, he smiles a twisted half smile and runs a hand down her cheek. Closing his eyes, he drops his hands, opens the door and gestures towards the exit with the tilt of his head. "Go."

Darcy hesitates a moment, but when he opens his eyes, he's staring down at her and the red glow in his stare looks like pure fury. Darcy leaves.

x x x x

Loki is sitting in front of the fireplace in his room in the lodge of the Adirondacks. Green flames are licking up towards the chimney. He doesn't need the fire. He just finds it soothing to look at.

He hears a knock at his door. He doesn't have to use magic to know who it is. He fights the urge to pretend he isn't here - or to teleport from the room and really not be here at all.

Instead he says, "Come in."

Just as he expects, Darcy comes in, her hands clutched in front of her. "Do you need anything?" she says.

"No," he says, trying to smile kindly. She doesn't move. He takes a few steps closer and puts his hands in his pockets. "In fact," he says, "I think you can safely assume that your services are no longer required. You're discharged, free to enjoy the rest of our time here as a vacation."

Darcy drops her head and looks distinctly less happy than she had a moment before. Loki restrains the urge to sigh. He wants to go to her, wrap his arms around her and tell her everything will be alright, but he doesn't trust himself.

Last night she'd felt so good and so perfect beneath him. And her nails running down the raised flesh on his back had been a revelation. They'd never removed any of their clothing, and he'd felt absolutely naked in that moment and had almost lost control.

All he has to say is, "I need you, and only you. I love you, and I'll keep you," and she'll be his. The thought makes his chest pound even as it disgusts him. When he'd realized what was bothering her last night, he had longed so desperately to return to his state of madness, to be truly and utterly uncaring, to float through existence and his actions without fear or guilt.

He has caused so much pain in this realm and Jotunheim, and surely the pain those little lies would bring would be smaller than the agony caused by the death and destruction he's wrought. He takes a step closer and then stops himself.

He could keep her, of course. Like a pet for a decade or so, in a style much grander than she is accustomed. It is something Asgardians have done with humans for centuries. They have little respect for creatures whose lives are so brief and fragile. His jaw tenses; it is just the sort of behavior he tells himself his schemes will end.

Darcy twists her fingers, and looks up at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

He tilts his head, very wary. "You may." He may not answer.

"What do I do?" she says.

Loki blinks.

"I mean..." she looks down. "I'm not really good at anything here. I mean besides tasering Thor, and taking care of you...I kind of haven't done anything...or nothing that anyone really notices."

"Ah," says Loki. He raises his eyebrows and takes a breath. Well, then. "Would you like a frank assessment of your strengths and weaknesses?"

She swallows. "Yes, I guess..."

Loki sighs. "Your train of thought tends to wander."

She swallows again. Loki takes another step closer and then stops himself. "You aren't threatening, tasering Thor aside." He smiles, hoping to make the moment lighter but she just stares at him.

"Can you tell me some of my strengths?"

Loki tilts his head. "Those aren't necessarily weaknesses."

"They're not so great for an administrative assistant type."

Loki lifts his eyebrows. "You are very open minded."

Darcy scowls. "And that and a buck 50 will get me a coffee at just about any Dunkin' Donuts."

Loki's brow furrows. "You are also very perceptive, very clever - even if you are..." He tilts his head and looks away. "...unfocused."

Darcy looks up at him like she might hit him or cry or both. "So what do I do? Do I stay? If I don't...what then?"

He wants to go to her, let himself be her punching bag if she needs it. But he knows that will end with his arms wrapped around her, pulling him tight against him. The thought sends currents of electricity along the markings that follow his veins on his back, chest, stomach and other places.

His jaw tightens and he shakes his head. "I don't know. But you're free. Make the most of it."

He is not free. He owes a debt to two realms, and even if things go exactly as he plans, that debt will never be fully repaid.

She exhales in what may be frustration and turns.

Just before she opens the door, Loki says, "Darcy..."

She stops and looks at him.

"I am fond of you," he says.

Her face crumples a bit, and she leaves in a hurry.

He rubs his eyes with one hand. He hadn't meant to be cruel and managed to be anyway.

When Darcy gives her two weeks notice not much later, Loki isn't really surprised.