Head Over Heels

dresupi:

for @fudebusho

Pairing:  Darcy/Loki

Word Count:  1022

Prompt:  ‘Head Over Heels’ by Tears for Fears (1985)

Rating:  T

Warnings: None

Link: Ao3

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“Do you have plans after work, Ms. Lewis?”  

Loki’s question hung there in the air around them.  And it took Darcy a few seconds to realize that the ‘Ms. Lewis’ he was referring to was her.  Loki, Thor’s baby brother (not so much ‘baby’ as ‘not-quite-so-ancient-by-earth-standards’ as Thor) wanted to know if she had plans after work.  

What were words again?  

“No,” she said bluntly, finally answering him and cutting through the tension with her machete of awkward.  It was lucky that he’d approached her when she was alone at her desk.  This significantly cut down on the level of awkward.  

If her labmates weren’t two of the nosiest scientists in the entire world.  

Jane let out a whisper of a sigh and Bruce resumed typing.  

Or maybe she was just imagining that everything had stopped the second Loki spoke to her.  

Maybe if he did it more often – talked to her, that is – it wouldn’t be such an earth-stopping event.  But he didn’t.  

She could count on her hand the number of words he’d spoken to her that day, actually…other than the query about her plans.  Pretty much a ‘hello’ when she’d arrived and a muttered ‘excuse me’ when she had to move around him to get at the thing Jane was rapidly and vaguely fluttering her hands at.

Loki was supposedly the silver-tongued prince of Asgard…why wasn’t he using that tongue on her?  

Oh god… she berated herself, in complete disbelief that she’d even so much as thought about that.  

Well, not SO much disbelief.  In addition to being silver-tongued, he was purportedly handsome.  And Darcy could concur.  So much concurring was happening.  Oh holy hell, did the concurring happen.  

But in all honesty?  Darcy was a touch relieved that the younger Odinson – was it Odinson?  Thor still called him ‘brother’, but there was a little bit of cringing happening on Loki’s part whenever he did – anyway…She was relieved that Loki didn’t speak to her as often as his nickname would imply.  Mostly because he scared her.  

Not in the ‘former-evil-genius-who-tried-to-enslave-mankind’ way…Thor had pretty much explained what all that mess was about.  Not to minimize the horrible things he’d done in the slightest, but Darcy was around a bunch of people who seemed to have these horrific pasts and one of the best things about her was her ability to look past actions and into the person.  

But she’d done that a little with Loki and he scared her for a different reason. The unbridled-wildness kind of way…

Not that Darcy hadn’t tamed a wild stallion or two in her day…but Loki seemed to be a different breed.  He was one of those things Thor talked about all the time.  A bilgesnipe.  

Or maybe something a little less ugly.  Did they have wild stags on Asgard?  

“Would you like to?”  Loki asked.  Another question.  

Damn, he was all for quadrupling his total spoken word count in her direction today, wasn’t he?  

“To have plans?” she asked, totally delaying the inevitable, where he asked what she was pretty sure he was going to ask and she melted into a puddle of awkward on the floor.  

“Plans…dinner…vigorous love-making…the choice is yours, Ms. Lewis.”  

She could swear Bruce started choking.  And maybe it was a coincidence – dude didn’t seem to know the meaning of small sips when it came to piping hot tea – but it didn’t seem like it.  

She drew up her courage from somewhere deep within her.  Somewhere deep.  Like it was deep as fuck, you guys.  Deep, deep down courage.  

She tilted her head, saucily placing her hand on her hip.  “I think if vigorous lovemaking is on the table, you should definitely call me Darcy.”  She winked and added at the end for an extra punch of umph.  “Lokes.”  

He smiled.  Which…up until this point, she hadn’t really seen in its final form.  

Did she say she was scared?  Scared wasn’t the word anymore.  

Hopelessly giddy.  That’s what she was.  

Because Loki’s smile?  In what she hoped was its final form?  Was nothing but downright sexy.  Dude had bedroom eyes for days.  And cheekbones that went all the way, man.  Whatever that meant?  It was true.  

She felt her cheeks flush hot and pink as she stood there.  

“Darcy it is…” he paused for a moment before continuing.  “I’d like to see you tonight…”  

She was biting down on her lower lip to stop herself from grinning.  “See me where?”

His eyes widened infinitesimally.  “I would be forever grateful if you’d allow me to cook you dinner?  If you’d allow me to show you the stars…the galaxies…worlds so much different than the one where you live…worlds that would hold you in the highest regards. Darcy.”  

She arched an eyebrow.  “Maybe let’s start with dinner.  At my place.  I’ll help you cook.  And… in response to the latter part of your statement…declaration…statlaration? I dunno if you’ve noticed?  I’m held in some pretty high regards around here.”  She cocked her head to the side with a smirk.  

“Not high enough,” he countered.  

Ah.  There it was.  The silver tongue.  He wanted something.  

And judging by the look in those eyes of his, that something was Darcy Catherine Lewis.  

“Flattery will get you nowhere.  A nicely cooked steak, though?  That’ll win wars.”  

Loki let out the breath he was holding and conceded.  “Steak it is…”  He squinted skeptically.  “What sort of person doesn’t like flattery?” he asked.  

“The sort who has heard enough of it to realize that it’s only rarely sincere.  The sort of person who already knows all the bullshit you’re trying to tell me.  I know what I am.  I’m a hot, young, voluptuous woman.  I certainly didn’t need you to fall from the sky and fill me in.”  

He smiled again.  Same smile as before.  “I suppose that will save me a lot of time, then.”  

Darcy couldn’t help but return the expression.  He hadn’t gotten all butthurt and horrible.  “I suppose it will.”  

“Dinner at eight?”  

“Not if you expect me to not eat anything beforehand.”  

“Seven?”  

“That’s more like it.”