Work Text:
Shopping
©MischiefsLady
The streets of New York are bustling as Darcy makes her way back to her apartment. Her arms are full of bags that hold gifts for family and friends and she hums a bit of Santa Claus Is Coming to Town under her breath as she goes. Christmas is her favorite time of year and while she’s sad that she won’t get the chance to be home with her crazy relatives, she figures sharing the holiday with someone else’s bit of crazy is okay too.
Stark has invited the Avengers as well Jane and Darcy and a few other people to his home tomorrow for a holiday party. She’s looking forward to it and has even bought a new dress to wear. Perhaps she’ll get to speak to Captain America too.
Darcy arrives at her building and the doorman holds open the door for her.
“Good day, Miss Lewis,” greets Jim as he ushers her inside and away from the cold.
She smiles warmly at the tall, middle-aged man in uniform.
“Thank you, Jim! How’s the wife and children today?” She makes her way over to the elevator and Jim follows pressing the up button for her so she doesn’t drop her packages.
“Well and good, Miss Lewis. Samantha’s finished her list for Santa and my wife has the decorating and baking in hand. It’ll be a wonderful Christmas this year, I think.”
Darcy admires Jim’s cheerful disposition and as the elevator dings open she wishes him a great day. He punches her floor number and steps out to return to his post near the door. Darcy returns to humming Christmas carols. When the elevator stops on her floor she steps out and makes her way to her door.
Gently she tries to slide a hand inside her coat pocket to reach for her keys without upsetting the precious balance of bags in her arms. She almost makes it when a low voice sounds behind her.
“Dare I say you could use another hand, Miss Lewis?” Darcy jumps, swears and drops a couple of bags as well as her keys. Turning round she spies Loki leaning back against the opposite wall in dark pants, a fitted dark green sweater and a black trench coat. His hair is slicked back and falls to just below his ears. But it is the mischievous glint in his eyes that makes her breath catch and she swallows thickly. Those sharp green orbs of his should seriously be outlawed for the way they make her feel.
She makes a mad attempt to compose herself, even as the smirk he wears turns into a feral grin. She might have whimpered slightly before glaring him.
“Damn it, Loki! Can’t you announce yourself like a normal person?” She bends down to pick up her keys and his gaze snags on the shapely legs beneath her short skirt. A spark of interest that may have already been there takes deeper root and he finds his pants a bit tighter in some areas than they were before.
“Define normal, Miss Lewis.” He snarks as she opens the door. She struggles to grab the bags that fell on the floor but Loki steps forward and waves her hand away. Instead he reaches down and picks them up for her, following her into the apartment.
“You are definitely not normal, dude. Most people don’t sneak up on others, or just show up without warning.” She continues to talk as she walks into her loft style home. Brick walls and wide windows encase a large space filled with comfortable over stuffed furniture and bright colors that suit the woman who lives there.
“I don’t conform to the nature of others.” He says and places the bags he carried on the couch next to the others she just dropped there.
Darcy continues talking as she removes her scarf and coat to hang in the closet.
“That’s obvious. And while I admire those who go against the dictates of society, manners would still be acceptable to use.” She holds out her hand and he stares at it a moment before realizing she is waiting to hang his coat up as well. He shrugs out of it and hands it to her, trying all the while not to stare at the way her sweater accentuates certain curves.
“Manners are best reserved for those who appreciate them, Miss Lewis.” She shuts the closet door and turns a raised eyebrow in his direction. He winks at her and she laughs.
“What brings you around to my place anyway?” Darcy asks as she heads into the kitchen.
“Thor and Jane.” He replies, a remotely disgusted tone in his voice. Darcy knows he hates it when they get all PDAish in front of him, and smirks.
“Maybe it wouldn’t bother you so much if you were getting some PDA too,” she says as they enter the kitchen. She motions for Loki to sit on one of the stools at the counter.
“Are you offering, Miss Lewis?” He asks as he sits down and Darcy halts in her tracks. Did she just offer? Pfft..no.
“N..no.” She says though it doesn’t sound very convincing to her own ears. Time to change the topic, Darce!
“So what are you getting Thor for Christmas?” Her deflection amuses him, but he lets it go for now. Plenty of time later to see if the attraction is truly mutual.
“Nothing.” He watches her rummage through a cabinet then turn to face him with a can of coffee in one hand and a box of tea bags in the other.
“Coffee or tea? And what do you mean nothing? He’s your brother you have to get him something!”
“Tea, thank you. And no, I don’t have to do anything, Miss Lewis.”
“Darcy. Call me Darcy if we’re going to debate you buying your brother a Christmas gift.” She puts the can of coffee back on in the cabinet and sets the box of tea bags down on the counter.
Grabbing the tea kettle from the stove she fills it with water. “Why won’t you get him a gift? I know he’s getting one for you.”
He watches her movements, the graceful way with which she shifts her body to accomplish her tasks and for a moment he is entranced by it. She places the tea kettle back on the stove and lights the burner beneath it. She turns to face him expectantly, waiting for his answer.
“Why should I get him a gift, Darcy?” Her name flows off his tongue and she admits only to herself that she likes the sound of it.
“Um, because it’s Christmas. Because he forgave you. Because he’s your brother. And despite your shortcomings he actually likes you?” The last is said with a hint of teasing on her part.
“Are you suggesting others don’t like me?” He pretends to be affronted by her remark.
“Not at all. I’m saying it flat out.” She offers a cheeky smile and he returns it as though it is the most natural thing in the world.
“Tell me, then. If you were me, what would you give Thor for Christmas?”
Tongue planted firmly in cheek she says, “An eight-legged horse.”
The reference isn’t lost on Loki. These people and their strange legends about him and his family are surely the bane of his existence these days. Stark especially relishes every chance he gets to allude to the silly stories.
He shakes his head. “And where is it one could find an eight-legged horse on Midgard, Darcy?”
Her eyes sparkle with deep amusement as an idea takes root in her head. “As a matter of fact, Loki, I know exactly how we can get one.”
Thank god for the internet, she thinks and can’t wait to see Thor’s reaction to the gift she would help Loki find for him.