"Doubt I'll ever get the opportunity to say a damn thing to Tony Stark. Your ego-stroking secret is safe with me. Close is better than middle-of-nowhere, zero leads, fucked three ways from Sunday." And out comes the phone. She quickly texts Bo, letting her know she can lay off the sex-voodoo and stop flirt-terrogating that freaky facial hair. So much for the irondude with the glowy chest. One down, a bunch more to go.
"Is this seriously happening?" Frig. He's pretty. She'd agree even if he wasn't a potential source of valuable information. "... Yeah, okay. I'm in. But I fully expect to get incredibly drunk and make fun of people behind their backs." Because that's the only way those parties are ever fun. How could she say no to a bit of fun? He did say please.
A wicked smile spreads across her face, "Are you still gonna tell me now that I totally agreed? Or are you gonna make me wait two days?" She would have made him wait.That would have been hilarious.
Still on the fence about him. She can't quite figure out what she's supposed to believe here. People can tell you anything you want, and contrary to popular belief, seeing shouldn't always equal believing. The can make you see about as much as they can tell you. Only thing you can do is go with your gut instinct and even that's wrong a lot of the time. Why stress? Why not just go with it? See what happens. Have some fun.
It is seriously happening. Loki does love a potentially appreciative audience -- and an appreciative audience is rare enough that he's not going to force one into attending his little joke. He smiles really quite cheerfully at her. "Hey, I said I'd tell you."
And he intends to, after he sits up and reaches forward to take another sip of coffee, leaning forward with forearms planted on the table between them. "As I mentioned, you're in the right place, more or less. The hotel, good choice. I mean, think about it -- all sorts of people come and go from hotels, and nobody pays much attention to who they might be, seeing as they're not likely to ever encounter them again."
He knows this as well as anybody. Oh, he doesn't live in hotels anymore, but they're still a valuable tool. "And where in hotels are guests least likely to end up? Where can one hold a conversation without risk of being overheard?"
He's smiling now, gleeful and conspiratorial, though it's nothing to him, this bit of information. He's no particular attachment to the fae and they've no particular fondness for him. This is just business. "The noisiest place in any establishment which has one is the kitchens. Lots of business is conducted in kitchens, believe me, especially in this city. That's where I'd look, were I you."
Well, not exactly. He'd look wherever he happened to sense them, but in this case that happens to be in the kitchens and his exposition is otherwise sound. "And once you've sorted that out you can call me and we'll set up that date."
"Uuuuuugh. I wish you hadn't said that." Last time she worked in a kitchen, she almost got eaten by a land wight. The last time she was just chillin' in a hotel kitchen, she'd lost her voice and had some fire dude after her. Kenzi always gets the shitty undercover jobs while Bo hangs out with the rich dudes and eats lobster and looks all glam. Shouldn't it be brains before beauty? Guess not.
But a deal's a deal. She hands him her phone and reaches for her coffee. "Gimme your digits. Plus you know where to find me."
There's a 50/50 chance of this either being a really good thing or a really bad thing. Honestly? That's probably half the fun right there.
"So what do you do, anyway? How did you get all buddy-buddy with the billionaire super hero? Do you know the other peeps, too?"
Loki programs his mobile number into her phone under the heading 'Big Bad Wolf' and hands it back to her with a flourish. "I met Tony Stark at a... conference, of sorts. He offered me a drink and... well, we didn't get along, so naturally we had to look one another up later and here we are."
He shrugs. "Engineers and physicists typically don't get along unless they're working on something together. He likes his problems practical and applied, I like mine a bit more theoretical, and never the twain shall meet -- until they have to, of course."
Another slant lie. Magic is really just applied physics. The more he reads on the subject the more obvious it becomes. Of course, anyone who doesn't know that isn't likely to guess what he really means. "So we've dedicated a portion of our lives to annoying one another as much as possible, and very occasionally collaborating. I said we were friends; I didn't say the relationship was very... normal."
Or even that friendly, most of the time. If Loki had to think about it he'd probably consider it about as close as he ever got, but really, he doesn't care whether or not it's true in some slant sense or not. Stark would disagree, anyway.
"As for the others, if you mean the others at the party, yes, a few. They're all boring. If you mean the others--" he points upwards and twirls his finger "--yes, I've met them. Bit of a sorry lot but they do relatively admirable work."
"Physicist. Wow. Now there's a job that'll get you laid." If sarcasm paid cash, that sentence would have bought her a shiny new car. The smile right after was good natured, though. And frankly she was kind of into the whole smart-guy thing. The fact that she was into him specifically had to be obvious by now. Even if it was just for the sake of the Ashe-- actually, she probably would have followed him regardless.
"No offense, but he seems like a total dick. Saving the city aside. That facial hair just screams massive douche! Mad props to the hot archer guy, though. I'm a huge fan of old-timey weaponry. Using lasers to blow stuff up is so overrated."
They may not be fae, but she still wanted to know more about them. Real life super heroes. How cool is that?
Loki gives a soft huff. "You might be surprised. The only thing it doesn't get me is someone willing to put up with me for an extended period. Not all it's cracked up to be, living with a physicist."
Magician. God. Madman. Whatever. "As for the Avengers--" the tone of his voice implies scare quotes, though his hands stay curled around his coffee cup "--they're, well, a collection. You're right about Stark. He's a walking disaster. That's why he's so much fun."
Or perhaps that's just because Loki is awful and prone to schadenfreude. Either way, he does dearly love tormenting the man.
"Agent Barton, on the other hand, is a delightful fellow. A commensurate professional. And a little scary, to be quite honest." Which Loki quite likes, really. He'd certainly liked it quite a lot when it was being used for his benefit.
"As for that whole, you know, the big mess a few years ago, yes. It really was." A wildly overconfident alien invasion, in fact. The chitauri really weren't all they'd claimed to be, but Loki hadn't found that particularly surprising. Hardly anyone who brags that readily is.
Kenzi smiles after another bite of the cake. Chocolatey heaven on a plate, thank you very much. "You might be surprised at what I can put up with."
Living with a succubus is no picnic.
"Good. I like the scary ones." Dyson's a good example of that, even if he's more of a cuddly puppy these days. He can be scary when he wants to be... to other people. But agent Barton. She'd have to remember that one. The chick seems scary for totally different reasons, but doesn't seem to be anything the Ashe is looking for. Archery boy, though... and the blonde one? She just worries about the spangly guy and won't be going near the angry, smashy, green one.
"Okay. So. Aliens, super heroes, and adorably frightening creatures that rhyme with 'hay'. All this junk is real, and you! You... did that thing. Physicist or not, you're definitely not just some random, regular human that got swept up into all of this like I did. Can you do other stuff? Can I see it?"
"Is that you offering, then?" Loki teases, though he doubts she meant that. Even he might find it a bit odd if she did. Nobody moves in with someone after meeting them once.
The other question has him snorting softly. "I could pull a coin out of your ear, if you want. I know a few card tricks. Bit of sleight of hand... aside from that I'm afraid you're out of luck."
For today, at least. Maybe another time. At Stark's party, for instance, should she choose to come along.
"I'm really not certain what it is exactly that you're accusing me of, anyway. I'm not like the blokes in the kitchens. If you want something like that, you're in the wrong place." Let her extrapolate from that what she wants; he's certainly not fae. Nor álfar nor ás. His kind sit relatively forgotten by human beings. Their mythology, the memory of them, has long since faded. With this Loki is content. At least nobody's likely to guess.
Ha. Hahaha. Right. No one just starts living with a person after one day. That would be... crazy. Whoops. At least there was mutual life-saving first. And the whole no rent thing. Oh, and also the epic clothes-borrowing privileges. So many reasons to move in with a strange, not-human lady after only knowing her 24 hours.
"Only if your friend Stark runs off with my roomie and I'm left all alone. But I doubt that would ever happen so you're off the hook."
Okay, sure. Play it off like it was nothing, magician-pants. She still doesn't trust you on that one. She's not crazy. Definitely didn't imagine that shit. "That stuff is getting pretty stale anyway. I could go for something new."
"Well, sorry to disappoint, then," Loki responds, sounding a bit put off, as though he's tired of hearing about it. Which in a sense he is, and not because he's tired of being valuable solely for what he can do (though he is also that, on some abstract and unimportant level), but because he's really not keen on talking about it any longer, particularly in public.
"I wouldn't worry about Stark, by the way. Or at least I wouldn't worry about Stark for long. He's really not the type to repeat a performance, for one, and he's even worse to live with than I am, for another." At least Loki keeps mostly to himself in domestic settings. Somehow he doesn't think Stark is the same, save of course when he's working, and then the rest of the world may as well not exist. Loki knows. He's taken advantage of that more than once.
"But good to know I'm safe. My flat is a bit of a mess at the moment." Mostly because, thanks to a fit of his pique, all of his books had thrown themselves off of the shelves. Live in a place long enough, weave oneself into it thoroughly enough, and it starts to know you. Or, more accurately, he'd subconsciously played on the threads of magic he'd spun around his living space and that had produced a tangible result.
Sometimes, though, it looked like sentience. Sometimes, perhaps, it nearly was.
Kenzi just smirks. It's one of those smug as all hell, I know something you don't know smirks. If Bo wanted to, she could have Stark eating out of the palm of her hand. Among other things...
But Bo wasn't like that. The girl wouldn't even abuse her powers to get free shoes! That's some hardcore willpower right there. Power being the keyword. Kenzi was nowhere near that strong. If she'd been born with magical sex powers, she'd be a lot worse than just a small-time thief turned private detective. That much power can get to a person. The things Bo could do if she put her mind to it-- it could be bad. Really bad. Kenzi probably wasn't the best choice of a conscience, either.
"Yeah well, I'm gonna worry anyway. Worrying is just what us sidekicks do. People can put up with a lot of things for a rich genius." CoughRYANcough. Maybe that's why she didn't trust this Tony mook. He was like a cross between Ryan and Vex. Both total douchebags. "I should probably get back... "
But it was sooooo obvious that she really didn't want to leave.
Loki chuckles softly and pulls his mobile from his pocket to set it on the table between them. An essential for any self-respecting supervillain, really, mobile phones, particularly the sort with sophisticated organisational aids. And instagram support, if one were to ask Loki, which nobody ever does.
"Text it and see," he says, sliding the phone towards her. It is a real number. It might not be useful for very much longer, since avoiding a terribly long paper trail is also essential, but for the time being it works, and it'll continue to work for as long as he needs it to do.
"I neglected to mention that the event to which I've invited you is black tie. Don't worry if you don't have a dress; we can go find one tomorrow if you're not too terribly busy. I'll bill Stark." After a fashion. He grins.
"In fact, you may as well anyway; I've been looking for an excuse to extort him for ages."
Just wait until she starts challenging him in Draw Something.
She picks up her own phone and fires off a text at lightning speeds. Kids and their technology. She watches the phone on the table closely, almost daring it to not light up.
500 bonus points. Current score: 832!
"I kinda figured. Don't look so worried, Jökulsson. I clean up nice. Promise." But hey, dress shopping on someone else's dime? That could be hilarious. Guilt-free shopping is the true way to a girl's heart. Even if it's only guilt-free because Kenzi has no soul when it comes to material possessions and taking from those who have more than enough.
"So you want to pick out dresses with a total stranger. That's either an excuse to see me again or you're actually into dudes. Are you in love with Stark?" Gaaaaaaaaaaasp. "Am I your beard? You're totes just using me to make him jealous, aren't you? I knew it. Way too good to be true."
She curls a lock of her hair around her finger and bites her lower lip. Hardcore flirting tactics initiated. Bo is so much better at this shit. Ugh.
Loki laughs at that, bright and cheerful. The flirting is obvious, and amusing, and he could do oh so much better if he were so inclined. Maybe later. He did say he wouldn't try to sleep with her on the first date, and while it wouldn't be remotely the first time he'd lied about that, it would open the door to oh so many other things he's not inclined to address right now.
Besides, girl like her? Girl after a thrill? Something different and dangerous? She'll be worth the wait just for that alone, and she might just enjoy it better later.
Assuming she still wants anything to do with him, of course, and if she doesn't... well. Plenty of other fish. Dizzyingly many.
Loki leans back in his chair, visibly pouting. "You think I'd go for a man like that? I was unaware that you thought so poorly of me. I'd not have asked you if I had known."
He crosses his arms. "Accusing me of being a fairy tale monster is one thing, accusing me of being at all fond of Tony Stark is quite another."
Though he is, of course, in an exceptionally abstract way. He needs men like Stark. The world frankly isn't half as much fun without them.
"No, I'm just trying to get the most out of bothering the man for once. I owe him, and the evening will be all the better if nobody's tutting at what you're wearing. You'll see, it'll be fantastic." He relaxes his posture, smiling again. "And then you can... toddle off home or whatever it is you plan to do when you're done with me."
"Clearly I just have to get to know you better so I don't make some poor judgement call like that in the future. Now I know that, A; you get all huffy when I offend you and it's totally adorbs, and B; You're so very NOT into him that you need the opposite of him which would be... female, dirt poor, non-genius that doesn't fly around in a heinously-painted, tin can outfit."
Though she has no idea, personality-wise, Kenzi and Tony are pretty similar. The thrill-seeking, sarcastic, penchant for flirting with danger is the same. So is the quick wit. But there are also a lot of differences with circumstance being the most notable of them all.
Kenzi smirks, getting up from her seat and downing the rest of her coffee before setting the empty cup back on the table. "Fantastic, huh? I'm holding you to that. As for whatever it is I plan to do, I try to plan as little as possible. What happens, happens. But I guess I have some work to do if you're gonna stop by the hotel tomorrow to pick me up. Text when you're in the lobby."
She turns to head for the door, stops, and looks back at him over her shoulder. "I'm really glad you literally ran into me."
Funny how that happened. Weird how things work out. Still incredibly suspicious.
For a moment Loki simply looks at her with a faint smile on his lips. Oh, her interest is already piqued. May as well.
"And I'm glad you decided to follow me," he says, and leaves it at that, tucking his phone back into his pocket. He's no intention of clarifying whether or not he means out of the hotel or to the café afterwards. Let her work it out for herself if she likes. Let her speculate.
"Tomorrow, then," he agrees before giving a bit of a wave and turning back to his coffee, shaking his head slowly and smiling to himself. Funny thing. Clever thing. He does like that. Pretty, too, but Loki has seen so very many pretty things in his life. After a while they all start to blend together. Lovely she may be, but her value -- and her rarity, the extent of which he has yet to assess -- lies elsewhere.
It will be interesting to see how she reacts to him when she knows rather than simply suspecting, when it becomes entirely plain that he's not only not human, but that her fairy tale monster reference wasn't far off the mark. Interesting, yes, and Loki isn't optimistic that it'll be positive, but so it goes. The game is more important than the outcome and Loki is used to losing.
He arrives the next day in the early afternoon, close enough to noon to make him look eager but not inconsiderate of Kenzi's actual purpose for being in the city. Not that he couldn't make her forget if he wanted, he's certain, but that's not the point. Right now he's still deliberately straddling the line between normal and abnormal. When he reaches the lobby he folds himself into a chair and sends off the text:
Apologise to your roommate for me, would you? I'm waiting in the lobby to whisk you away and I've no intention of returning you for several hours at least.
"Is this seriously happening?" Frig. He's pretty. She'd agree even if he wasn't a potential source of valuable information. "... Yeah, okay. I'm in. But I fully expect to get incredibly drunk and make fun of people behind their backs." Because that's the only way those parties are ever fun. How could she say no to a bit of fun? He did say please.
A wicked smile spreads across her face, "Are you still gonna tell me now that I totally agreed? Or are you gonna make me wait two days?" She would have made him wait.That would have been hilarious.
Still on the fence about him. She can't quite figure out what she's supposed to believe here. People can tell you anything you want, and contrary to popular belief, seeing shouldn't always equal believing. The can make you see about as much as they can tell you. Only thing you can do is go with your gut instinct and even that's wrong a lot of the time. Why stress? Why not just go with it? See what happens. Have some fun.
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And he intends to, after he sits up and reaches forward to take another sip of coffee, leaning forward with forearms planted on the table between them. "As I mentioned, you're in the right place, more or less. The hotel, good choice. I mean, think about it -- all sorts of people come and go from hotels, and nobody pays much attention to who they might be, seeing as they're not likely to ever encounter them again."
He knows this as well as anybody. Oh, he doesn't live in hotels anymore, but they're still a valuable tool. "And where in hotels are guests least likely to end up? Where can one hold a conversation without risk of being overheard?"
He's smiling now, gleeful and conspiratorial, though it's nothing to him, this bit of information. He's no particular attachment to the fae and they've no particular fondness for him. This is just business. "The noisiest place in any establishment which has one is the kitchens. Lots of business is conducted in kitchens, believe me, especially in this city. That's where I'd look, were I you."
Well, not exactly. He'd look wherever he happened to sense them, but in this case that happens to be in the kitchens and his exposition is otherwise sound. "And once you've sorted that out you can call me and we'll set up that date."
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But a deal's a deal. She hands him her phone and reaches for her coffee. "Gimme your digits. Plus you know where to find me."
There's a 50/50 chance of this either being a really good thing or a really bad thing. Honestly? That's probably half the fun right there.
"So what do you do, anyway? How did you get all buddy-buddy with the billionaire super hero? Do you know the other peeps, too?"
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He shrugs. "Engineers and physicists typically don't get along unless they're working on something together. He likes his problems practical and applied, I like mine a bit more theoretical, and never the twain shall meet -- until they have to, of course."
Another slant lie. Magic is really just applied physics. The more he reads on the subject the more obvious it becomes. Of course, anyone who doesn't know that isn't likely to guess what he really means. "So we've dedicated a portion of our lives to annoying one another as much as possible, and very occasionally collaborating. I said we were friends; I didn't say the relationship was very... normal."
Or even that friendly, most of the time. If Loki had to think about it he'd probably consider it about as close as he ever got, but really, he doesn't care whether or not it's true in some slant sense or not. Stark would disagree, anyway.
"As for the others, if you mean the others at the party, yes, a few. They're all boring. If you mean the others--" he points upwards and twirls his finger "--yes, I've met them. Bit of a sorry lot but they do relatively admirable work."
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"No offense, but he seems like a total dick. Saving the city aside. That facial hair just screams massive douche! Mad props to the hot archer guy, though. I'm a huge fan of old-timey weaponry. Using lasers to blow stuff up is so overrated."
They may not be fae, but she still wanted to know more about them. Real life super heroes. How cool is that?
"Was it legit an alien invasion?"
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Magician. God. Madman. Whatever. "As for the Avengers--" the tone of his voice implies scare quotes, though his hands stay curled around his coffee cup "--they're, well, a collection. You're right about Stark. He's a walking disaster. That's why he's so much fun."
Or perhaps that's just because Loki is awful and prone to schadenfreude. Either way, he does dearly love tormenting the man.
"Agent Barton, on the other hand, is a delightful fellow. A commensurate professional. And a little scary, to be quite honest." Which Loki quite likes, really. He'd certainly liked it quite a lot when it was being used for his benefit.
"As for that whole, you know, the big mess a few years ago, yes. It really was." A wildly overconfident alien invasion, in fact. The chitauri really weren't all they'd claimed to be, but Loki hadn't found that particularly surprising. Hardly anyone who brags that readily is.
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Living with a succubus is no picnic.
"Good. I like the scary ones." Dyson's a good example of that, even if he's more of a cuddly puppy these days. He can be scary when he wants to be... to other people. But agent Barton. She'd have to remember that one. The chick seems scary for totally different reasons, but doesn't seem to be anything the Ashe is looking for. Archery boy, though... and the blonde one? She just worries about the spangly guy and won't be going near the angry, smashy, green one.
"Okay. So. Aliens, super heroes, and adorably frightening creatures that rhyme with 'hay'. All this junk is real, and you! You... did that thing. Physicist or not, you're definitely not just some random, regular human that got swept up into all of this like I did. Can you do other stuff? Can I see it?"
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The other question has him snorting softly. "I could pull a coin out of your ear, if you want. I know a few card tricks. Bit of sleight of hand... aside from that I'm afraid you're out of luck."
For today, at least. Maybe another time. At Stark's party, for instance, should she choose to come along.
"I'm really not certain what it is exactly that you're accusing me of, anyway. I'm not like the blokes in the kitchens. If you want something like that, you're in the wrong place." Let her extrapolate from that what she wants; he's certainly not fae. Nor álfar nor ás. His kind sit relatively forgotten by human beings. Their mythology, the memory of them, has long since faded. With this Loki is content. At least nobody's likely to guess.
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"Only if your friend Stark runs off with my roomie and I'm left all alone. But I doubt that would ever happen so you're off the hook."
Okay, sure. Play it off like it was nothing, magician-pants. She still doesn't trust you on that one. She's not crazy. Definitely didn't imagine that shit. "That stuff is getting pretty stale anyway. I could go for something new."
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"I wouldn't worry about Stark, by the way. Or at least I wouldn't worry about Stark for long. He's really not the type to repeat a performance, for one, and he's even worse to live with than I am, for another." At least Loki keeps mostly to himself in domestic settings. Somehow he doesn't think Stark is the same, save of course when he's working, and then the rest of the world may as well not exist. Loki knows. He's taken advantage of that more than once.
"But good to know I'm safe. My flat is a bit of a mess at the moment." Mostly because, thanks to a fit of his pique, all of his books had thrown themselves off of the shelves. Live in a place long enough, weave oneself into it thoroughly enough, and it starts to know you. Or, more accurately, he'd subconsciously played on the threads of magic he'd spun around his living space and that had produced a tangible result.
Sometimes, though, it looked like sentience. Sometimes, perhaps, it nearly was.
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But Bo wasn't like that. The girl wouldn't even abuse her powers to get free shoes! That's some hardcore willpower right there. Power being the keyword. Kenzi was nowhere near that strong. If she'd been born with magical sex powers, she'd be a lot worse than just a small-time thief turned private detective. That much power can get to a person. The things Bo could do if she put her mind to it-- it could be bad. Really bad. Kenzi probably wasn't the best choice of a conscience, either.
"Yeah well, I'm gonna worry anyway. Worrying is just what us sidekicks do. People can put up with a lot of things for a rich genius." CoughRYANcough. Maybe that's why she didn't trust this Tony mook. He was like a cross between Ryan and Vex. Both total douchebags. "I should probably get back... "
But it was sooooo obvious that she really didn't want to leave.
"You swear that's not a fake number?"
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"Text it and see," he says, sliding the phone towards her. It is a real number. It might not be useful for very much longer, since avoiding a terribly long paper trail is also essential, but for the time being it works, and it'll continue to work for as long as he needs it to do.
"I neglected to mention that the event to which I've invited you is black tie. Don't worry if you don't have a dress; we can go find one tomorrow if you're not too terribly busy. I'll bill Stark." After a fashion. He grins.
"In fact, you may as well anyway; I've been looking for an excuse to extort him for ages."
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She picks up her own phone and fires off a text at lightning speeds. Kids and their technology. She watches the phone on the table closely, almost daring it to not light up.
500 bonus points. Current score: 832!
"I kinda figured. Don't look so worried, Jökulsson. I clean up nice. Promise." But hey, dress shopping on someone else's dime? That could be hilarious. Guilt-free shopping is the true way to a girl's heart. Even if it's only guilt-free because Kenzi has no soul when it comes to material possessions and taking from those who have more than enough.
"So you want to pick out dresses with a total stranger. That's either an excuse to see me again or you're actually into dudes. Are you in love with Stark?" Gaaaaaaaaaaasp. "Am I your beard? You're totes just using me to make him jealous, aren't you? I knew it. Way too good to be true."
She curls a lock of her hair around her finger and bites her lower lip. Hardcore flirting tactics initiated. Bo is so much better at this shit. Ugh.
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Besides, girl like her? Girl after a thrill? Something different and dangerous? She'll be worth the wait just for that alone, and she might just enjoy it better later.
Assuming she still wants anything to do with him, of course, and if she doesn't... well. Plenty of other fish. Dizzyingly many.
Loki leans back in his chair, visibly pouting. "You think I'd go for a man like that? I was unaware that you thought so poorly of me. I'd not have asked you if I had known."
He crosses his arms. "Accusing me of being a fairy tale monster is one thing, accusing me of being at all fond of Tony Stark is quite another."
Though he is, of course, in an exceptionally abstract way. He needs men like Stark. The world frankly isn't half as much fun without them.
"No, I'm just trying to get the most out of bothering the man for once. I owe him, and the evening will be all the better if nobody's tutting at what you're wearing. You'll see, it'll be fantastic." He relaxes his posture, smiling again. "And then you can... toddle off home or whatever it is you plan to do when you're done with me."
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Though she has no idea, personality-wise, Kenzi and Tony are pretty similar. The thrill-seeking, sarcastic, penchant for flirting with danger is the same. So is the quick wit. But there are also a lot of differences with circumstance being the most notable of them all.
Kenzi smirks, getting up from her seat and downing the rest of her coffee before setting the empty cup back on the table. "Fantastic, huh? I'm holding you to that. As for whatever it is I plan to do, I try to plan as little as possible. What happens, happens. But I guess I have some work to do if you're gonna stop by the hotel tomorrow to pick me up. Text when you're in the lobby."
She turns to head for the door, stops, and looks back at him over her shoulder. "I'm really glad you literally ran into me."
Funny how that happened. Weird how things work out. Still incredibly suspicious.
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"And I'm glad you decided to follow me," he says, and leaves it at that, tucking his phone back into his pocket. He's no intention of clarifying whether or not he means out of the hotel or to the café afterwards. Let her work it out for herself if she likes. Let her speculate.
"Tomorrow, then," he agrees before giving a bit of a wave and turning back to his coffee, shaking his head slowly and smiling to himself. Funny thing. Clever thing. He does like that. Pretty, too, but Loki has seen so very many pretty things in his life. After a while they all start to blend together. Lovely she may be, but her value -- and her rarity, the extent of which he has yet to assess -- lies elsewhere.
It will be interesting to see how she reacts to him when she knows rather than simply suspecting, when it becomes entirely plain that he's not only not human, but that her fairy tale monster reference wasn't far off the mark. Interesting, yes, and Loki isn't optimistic that it'll be positive, but so it goes. The game is more important than the outcome and Loki is used to losing.
He arrives the next day in the early afternoon, close enough to noon to make him look eager but not inconsiderate of Kenzi's actual purpose for being in the city. Not that he couldn't make her forget if he wanted, he's certain, but that's not the point. Right now he's still deliberately straddling the line between normal and abnormal. When he reaches the lobby he folds himself into a chair and sends off the text:
Apologise to your roommate for me, would you? I'm waiting in the lobby to whisk you away and I've no intention of returning you for several hours at least.
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