Incognito- Loki/Darcy, T
Title: Incognito
Fandom: Thor
Rating: T
Spoilers: If you've already seen Thor, none that I know of
Summary: Darcy takes in a stray black cat... but everything is not as it seems.
Ratings/Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sue, s’il vous plait.
Cross-posted to darcy_loki and Archive of Our Own
A/N: I came up with this idea a month or so ago out of the blue, and I've been working my way through it slowly but surely ever since. Thank God it's finally done! XD
She didn’t know where the black cat came from. He just showed up on her doorstep during a rainstorm, doing a pretty decent impression of a drowned rat and yowling pitifully. Jane had tried to keep her from bringing him into the apartment, but had finally caved after a couple hours of yowling. So Darcy had brought him in, wrapped in a towel. Once he was dried off, she dug a can of tuna out of the depths of the cupboard (and hoped to god it hadn’t gone bad or something) and put it in one of the cereal bowls and placed it on the floor. The cat inhaled the food as if he was never going to eat again, and then stalked over to the corner and stayed there the rest of the evening performing his post-meal toilette and avoiding her. It wasn’t until much later during the night that she woke up to a furry body snuggled up to her side. She supposed that would do for a thank you.
***
Darcy was woken from a sound sleep by something heavy falling on her. She sat up with a start, displacing the Cat who had jumped from the chest of drawers right on top of her. He now sat on the floor, glaring balefully and blinking at her in that slow lazy way of his. Darcy glanced at the clock. It was about fifteen minutes until the time she usually fed him. Of course. There is no snooze button on a cat who wants breakfast. Well, he was just going to have to wait, because she still intended to sleep for at least 15 more minutes. About five minutes later, she was once again woken up, this time because the dratted cat was now chewing on her toes.
“Fine! Fine! I’ll freaking feed you!” she exclaimed as she threw back the covers and stomped all the way to the kitchen. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn the Cat was smirking at her as she opened his can of tuna.
***
Darcy had had a pretty crap day. It had started out with the coffeemaker breaking, and the lack of caffeine meant that she and Jane fought on the way to work which escalated to them not speaking to each other. Then, at work it was nothing but boring paperwork and boring lectures from Director Fury. Then she got in a shouting match with Clint Barton over some offhand remark about her informal clothing, which led to Director Fury instating a dress-code. So on top of everything, Darcy had the rest of the S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel glaring daggers into her back the rest of the day. When they got home, Jane and Darcy still weren’t talking, and Jane went straight to her room and shut the door without so much as a how-do-you-do.
Darcy flopped down on the couch, tears already stinging her eyes and her throat tight. A meow called her attention to the floor at her feet. Through the blur of her tears she saw the Cat sitting with his tail curled around his feet and looking up at her solemnly. At that she truly did burst into tears, and she felt the couch next to her dip as he jumped up next to her. He butted her arm with his head, and she blindly reached out one hand to scratch behind his ears as she swiped at her streaming eyes with the other. After a bit, a thunderous purr erupted from his throat, which calmed her silent sobs and eventually lulled her to sleep.
A while later, she half woke to find a tall man with dark hair bent over her, his long nimble fingers brushing away a lock of hair from her face. Thinking it to be just a dream, she closed her eyes and fell back to sleep immediately. The next morning, she awoke fully clothed in her own bed with no memory as to how she had gotten there.
***
Darcy had just gotten home from another full day at S.H.I.E.L.D. and was desperate to get out of her dress pants and blazer, not to mention the underwire bra that was currently digging into her ribcage. She kicked off her high-heeled pumps at the door, and peeled off the blazer, tossing it over the arm of the armchair. She started working off her nylons while on her way to her bedroom closet, trying not to trip herself up in the process. It wasn’t until she’s started peeling off her blouse that she realized that she had a captive audience. The Cat was sitting in the hallway outside her bedroom door, staring at her with an inscrutable expression on his face. Quite frankly, it was creeping her out. She finished pulling the blouse over her head and flung it at him, sending him hissing and spitting back down the hall. She then closed the door and finished undressing in peace.
***
“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!” The man digging in her cupboard regarded her coolly before going back to his search, displacing cans of soup and boxes of Rice-a-Roni in his quest for whatever it was he was looking for. He was unbelievably tall, towering over her by at least a foot, if not two. His black hair was swept back from his forehead, just barely brushing his shoulders, and it highlighted the ivory pallor of his skin. If she hadn’t been so surprised to find him in her kitchen, she would have thought him devastatingly handsome.
"Why, I live here,” he informed her in a clipped British accent, his tone suggesting she really ought to know better.
"Like hell, you do!” she retorted angrily. “And what are you doing digging through my cupboards?”
He regarded her with a Look that she knew she’d seen somewhere, but she couldn’t quite place it. “I am trying to find tuna,” he replied, as if it should be totally obvious.
“Tuna?” She looked at him as if he just grew another head. Oh jeez, he must be one of those crazies that somehow winds up in someone else’s home and thinks they belong there… she thought with a vague sense of dawning horror.
“Yes, tuna. I seem to have developed a taste for it in the past several months. I grew hungry, and since it seemed that you would not be returning anytime soon, I decided to take matters into my own hands. “ He looked at her balefully, slowly blinking his impossibly jade green eyes at her. Wait a minute… She stared at him rather stupidly as her brain struggled to catch up to what her intuition was already screaming at her. And then the light-bulb went off. Her jaw dropped, and she knew her eyes must look like a cartoon.
“Wha- You’re the Cat?!” She narrowed her eyes at him.
He flashed a row of big white teeth in response, and part of her (the part that wasn’t completely hopping mad) knew she should probably be afraid. But then she remembered the undressing incident, her entire body went completely cold and then hot, and she clenched her fist with the sudden desire to hit him. Hard.
“You mean to tell me that you’ve been living in my home, watching me, without me knowing it? What kind of sick person does that?!”
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes, and her heart skipped several beats in response. “Do not test my patience, mortal. It was a necessary arrangement. When I showed up on your doorstep several months ago, I was severely injured from falling to Earth from Asgard.” She gave a start at the mention of Asgard. “The only way for me to conserve enough energy for healing myself was to become a less complex life-form. As I did not relish trying to scratch out a living in the wild, I decided to find a home where I could, for a time, depend on someone else to provide for my most basic needs. That is all.”
“Who are you really, then?” She tilted her head inquisitively, looking him up and down. He was dressed somewhat similar to Thor. Or at least how Thor had been dressed after Mye-myeh flew back into his hand during the battle with the Destroyer. And his bearing hinted at someone powerful, regal even. No… it couldn’t be. He must have seen the understanding dawning in her eyes because he opened his mouth and then closed it again before finally replying.
“My name is Loki Laufeyson.”
Even though she half expected the answer, she still couldn’t keep the shock as well as a hint of fear from registering on her face for a split second. He saw it, of course, and his expression morphed from sardonic bitterness to mischievous glee within the space of a moment.
“Scared, little mortal?” He grinned, showing her those teeth again. But this time they goaded her into a sharp retort rather than fear.
“Why? Should I be?” She regretted the words the minute she said them.
He began to stalk towards her, an intent expression on his face that made her instinctively back up until her back hit the wall and she could go no further. His lithe movements reminded her of the Cat when he was stalking a catnip mouse. Except now he was a very tall, very handsome man, and instead of a catnip mouse his prey was her. She fumbled her Taser out of her purse, but with one wave of his hand, some invisible force knocked it clattering to the floor. Almost of their own accord, her hands came up to rest on the chest piece of his armor, as he stopped directly in front of her, very much in her personal space. A wry smirk pulled at one corner of his lips as he braced one arm against the wall right next to her head. He brought his other hand up to her neck, his palm cupping the side of her neck and his thumb poised above her pulse, which was fluttering madly (although from actual fear or some strange form of attraction, she couldn’t tell). What is he, some kind of vampire or something? a little voice in the back of her mind snarked.
Then, his smirk fading into something far more serious, he did something she definitely did not expect. His long fingers wrapped around the back of her neck, cradling the base of her skull, and he used his thumb to tip her chin upward as he bent down and kissed the breath out of her.
Fandom: Thor
Rating: T
Spoilers: If you've already seen Thor, none that I know of
Summary: Darcy takes in a stray black cat... but everything is not as it seems.
Ratings/Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sue, s’il vous plait.
Cross-posted to darcy_loki and Archive of Our Own
A/N: I came up with this idea a month or so ago out of the blue, and I've been working my way through it slowly but surely ever since. Thank God it's finally done! XD
She didn’t know where the black cat came from. He just showed up on her doorstep during a rainstorm, doing a pretty decent impression of a drowned rat and yowling pitifully. Jane had tried to keep her from bringing him into the apartment, but had finally caved after a couple hours of yowling. So Darcy had brought him in, wrapped in a towel. Once he was dried off, she dug a can of tuna out of the depths of the cupboard (and hoped to god it hadn’t gone bad or something) and put it in one of the cereal bowls and placed it on the floor. The cat inhaled the food as if he was never going to eat again, and then stalked over to the corner and stayed there the rest of the evening performing his post-meal toilette and avoiding her. It wasn’t until much later during the night that she woke up to a furry body snuggled up to her side. She supposed that would do for a thank you.
***
Darcy was woken from a sound sleep by something heavy falling on her. She sat up with a start, displacing the Cat who had jumped from the chest of drawers right on top of her. He now sat on the floor, glaring balefully and blinking at her in that slow lazy way of his. Darcy glanced at the clock. It was about fifteen minutes until the time she usually fed him. Of course. There is no snooze button on a cat who wants breakfast. Well, he was just going to have to wait, because she still intended to sleep for at least 15 more minutes. About five minutes later, she was once again woken up, this time because the dratted cat was now chewing on her toes.
“Fine! Fine! I’ll freaking feed you!” she exclaimed as she threw back the covers and stomped all the way to the kitchen. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn the Cat was smirking at her as she opened his can of tuna.
***
Darcy had had a pretty crap day. It had started out with the coffeemaker breaking, and the lack of caffeine meant that she and Jane fought on the way to work which escalated to them not speaking to each other. Then, at work it was nothing but boring paperwork and boring lectures from Director Fury. Then she got in a shouting match with Clint Barton over some offhand remark about her informal clothing, which led to Director Fury instating a dress-code. So on top of everything, Darcy had the rest of the S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel glaring daggers into her back the rest of the day. When they got home, Jane and Darcy still weren’t talking, and Jane went straight to her room and shut the door without so much as a how-do-you-do.
Darcy flopped down on the couch, tears already stinging her eyes and her throat tight. A meow called her attention to the floor at her feet. Through the blur of her tears she saw the Cat sitting with his tail curled around his feet and looking up at her solemnly. At that she truly did burst into tears, and she felt the couch next to her dip as he jumped up next to her. He butted her arm with his head, and she blindly reached out one hand to scratch behind his ears as she swiped at her streaming eyes with the other. After a bit, a thunderous purr erupted from his throat, which calmed her silent sobs and eventually lulled her to sleep.
A while later, she half woke to find a tall man with dark hair bent over her, his long nimble fingers brushing away a lock of hair from her face. Thinking it to be just a dream, she closed her eyes and fell back to sleep immediately. The next morning, she awoke fully clothed in her own bed with no memory as to how she had gotten there.
***
Darcy had just gotten home from another full day at S.H.I.E.L.D. and was desperate to get out of her dress pants and blazer, not to mention the underwire bra that was currently digging into her ribcage. She kicked off her high-heeled pumps at the door, and peeled off the blazer, tossing it over the arm of the armchair. She started working off her nylons while on her way to her bedroom closet, trying not to trip herself up in the process. It wasn’t until she’s started peeling off her blouse that she realized that she had a captive audience. The Cat was sitting in the hallway outside her bedroom door, staring at her with an inscrutable expression on his face. Quite frankly, it was creeping her out. She finished pulling the blouse over her head and flung it at him, sending him hissing and spitting back down the hall. She then closed the door and finished undressing in peace.
***
“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!” The man digging in her cupboard regarded her coolly before going back to his search, displacing cans of soup and boxes of Rice-a-Roni in his quest for whatever it was he was looking for. He was unbelievably tall, towering over her by at least a foot, if not two. His black hair was swept back from his forehead, just barely brushing his shoulders, and it highlighted the ivory pallor of his skin. If she hadn’t been so surprised to find him in her kitchen, she would have thought him devastatingly handsome.
"Why, I live here,” he informed her in a clipped British accent, his tone suggesting she really ought to know better.
"Like hell, you do!” she retorted angrily. “And what are you doing digging through my cupboards?”
He regarded her with a Look that she knew she’d seen somewhere, but she couldn’t quite place it. “I am trying to find tuna,” he replied, as if it should be totally obvious.
“Tuna?” She looked at him as if he just grew another head. Oh jeez, he must be one of those crazies that somehow winds up in someone else’s home and thinks they belong there… she thought with a vague sense of dawning horror.
“Yes, tuna. I seem to have developed a taste for it in the past several months. I grew hungry, and since it seemed that you would not be returning anytime soon, I decided to take matters into my own hands. “ He looked at her balefully, slowly blinking his impossibly jade green eyes at her. Wait a minute… She stared at him rather stupidly as her brain struggled to catch up to what her intuition was already screaming at her. And then the light-bulb went off. Her jaw dropped, and she knew her eyes must look like a cartoon.
“Wha- You’re the Cat?!” She narrowed her eyes at him.
He flashed a row of big white teeth in response, and part of her (the part that wasn’t completely hopping mad) knew she should probably be afraid. But then she remembered the undressing incident, her entire body went completely cold and then hot, and she clenched her fist with the sudden desire to hit him. Hard.
“You mean to tell me that you’ve been living in my home, watching me, without me knowing it? What kind of sick person does that?!”
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes, and her heart skipped several beats in response. “Do not test my patience, mortal. It was a necessary arrangement. When I showed up on your doorstep several months ago, I was severely injured from falling to Earth from Asgard.” She gave a start at the mention of Asgard. “The only way for me to conserve enough energy for healing myself was to become a less complex life-form. As I did not relish trying to scratch out a living in the wild, I decided to find a home where I could, for a time, depend on someone else to provide for my most basic needs. That is all.”
“Who are you really, then?” She tilted her head inquisitively, looking him up and down. He was dressed somewhat similar to Thor. Or at least how Thor had been dressed after Mye-myeh flew back into his hand during the battle with the Destroyer. And his bearing hinted at someone powerful, regal even. No… it couldn’t be. He must have seen the understanding dawning in her eyes because he opened his mouth and then closed it again before finally replying.
“My name is Loki Laufeyson.”
Even though she half expected the answer, she still couldn’t keep the shock as well as a hint of fear from registering on her face for a split second. He saw it, of course, and his expression morphed from sardonic bitterness to mischievous glee within the space of a moment.
“Scared, little mortal?” He grinned, showing her those teeth again. But this time they goaded her into a sharp retort rather than fear.
“Why? Should I be?” She regretted the words the minute she said them.
He began to stalk towards her, an intent expression on his face that made her instinctively back up until her back hit the wall and she could go no further. His lithe movements reminded her of the Cat when he was stalking a catnip mouse. Except now he was a very tall, very handsome man, and instead of a catnip mouse his prey was her. She fumbled her Taser out of her purse, but with one wave of his hand, some invisible force knocked it clattering to the floor. Almost of their own accord, her hands came up to rest on the chest piece of his armor, as he stopped directly in front of her, very much in her personal space. A wry smirk pulled at one corner of his lips as he braced one arm against the wall right next to her head. He brought his other hand up to her neck, his palm cupping the side of her neck and his thumb poised above her pulse, which was fluttering madly (although from actual fear or some strange form of attraction, she couldn’t tell). What is he, some kind of vampire or something? a little voice in the back of her mind snarked.
Then, his smirk fading into something far more serious, he did something she definitely did not expect. His long fingers wrapped around the back of her neck, cradling the base of her skull, and he used his thumb to tip her chin upward as he bent down and kissed the breath out of her.