Chapter Text
Natasha was, for lack of a better term: a sadist.
The original agreement had been for Darcy to do her self defense lessons after work.
That agreement somehow got thrown out the window, and into a pit of lava.
Instead Natasha went with the, “I have a spare minute, let’s go to the gym” timeframe.
A lot of times, this happened way too early in the morning.
“Nat, it’s 3am… Why are you awake at 3am?”
“You have to be ready to go at any given time. So let’s go, or else.”
“Or else.” Became Darcy’s waking nightmare.
If it was Tony, or Clint, or even Steve making an open ended implication of torment, Darcy would take her chances.
But from Natasha Romanoff, Queen of All Spies, it was a very dangerous implication.
No matter how much Darcy whined, begged, or pleaded, Natasha kept firm on giving lessons.
Aside from the irregular lesson time slots, she made a pretty good trainer.
She made sure Darcy did her warm-ups and stretches, some running on the treadmill, a small water break, and then the actual self-defense.
Since it had only been four days, her lessons were constrained to the number one basic: falling.
Darcy thought she was joking at first, but after Natasha demonstrated how falling correctly could immediately turn the battle to your favor, Darcy took the lesson very seriously.
They’d just finished their falling lesson (at 4am, GUH) and Darcy was tempted to fall back asleep on the mat she was currently laying face down on.
Natasha was on the mat next to her doing her cool down routine “How have things been with his Highness?”
They were alone in the gym (cause smarter people remain in bed until at least 5am.) As there was no point in even attempting to beat around the bush, Darcy rolled herself onto her back so she wasn’t rudely talking directly to the mat, “I honestly have no idea anymore.”
Natasha lifted a brow, “Care to elaborate?”
“Okay so a couple nights ago, I kinda helped him with an existential crisis, and after that he came to my room and spooned me. Which reminds me, if you ever wanna subdue him, give him a cuddle. He melts. I think he was denied one too many hugs as a kid. The next morning, I’m thinking I’m going to wake up and have to try and think of a way to escape to use the bathroom, only he was gone already. I put it down to embarrassment, what with him having an image of a big, bad villain to uphold ya know? But that was DAYS ago, and I haven’t seen, heard or sniffed a thing from him. And his timeout from my brain is done, so now I’m kind of freaking out, and wondering if he’s plotting something crazy wicked that will just wind up making me his sex slave.”
When Darcy finished she slowly looked over at Natasha. She hadn’t really intended to word vomit all of her anxiety, but there just hasn’t been a good time to voice her worries to Jane, and she really didn’t want to drop these kinds of thoughts on poor Bruce. (Tony wasn’t even in the circle of consideration for venting, cause things could get really weird and the guy didn’t seem to be the best at emoting.)
Natasha, lethal weapon on heels, and amazing woman that she was, was entirely unfazed. Or she was at least not showing that this information had fazed her. It seemed to take her a moment to parse through everything before she slowly nodded, “It’s good you’re being apprehensive with him. I’ll admit, I was worried you’d fall to his charms and forget who you were dealing with.”
Darcy used her elbows to leverage herself up and properly sit, “I do forget...sometimes…But not for very long. I make sure to take walks outside, just so I can see the damage still being cleaned up. I helped the hot dog guy move his cart over a giant hole in the sidewalk shaped like the Hulk’s foot just yesterday…… At those times, it makes me think that maybe I’m being a traitor to Earth, being flirty and friendly with him. Which I’m not…right?” Her voice cracked, and she had to turn away and not so discreetly wipe away the freaking tears that had just sprung up from nowhere.
‘Of all the goddamn people to cry in front of. Stupid emotions.’
She hadn’t even considered this thought to be something to cry over. It had circled her brain once or twice when she was somewhere quiet, and it had all but blasted in her head when she saw that Hulk footprint.
It had put a sharp twist of guilt in her stomach at the memory of the thrill she’d gotten from Loki’s arms wrapping around her so snuggly the other night.
Darcy knew that she wasn’t being played by New York City’s number one enemy. Not with how genuine, and relieved his voice had been when he’d thanked her. (She also really couldn’t see a super villain using cuddles as part of a long con.)
Despite knowing this, she couldn’t convince her conscience to stop calling herself a traitor.
Natasha slid over the mat so her arm could press against Darcy’s. It wasn’t a hug, but it was an offering of comfort in its own way, “I know that you’ve snooped through some of our SHIELD files, and yes, Fury knows too.”
“I might just throw up.” Fear works really well at turning off tears. Darcy wiped the last of them from her face and glanced around for the nearest trash can.
“So you know that I used to be in a similar position to Loki’s.” Natasha continued, “I didn’t get out of that position without help. Help that came along in the form of an offered hand.”
Natasha was giving her a meaningful look that said the rest.
Laughing a little Darcy asked, “I’m Clint to his Natasha?”
Natasha’s amusement shone through in her smile, “Not quite, but close enough.”
Darcy gave the deadly woman a small bump with her shoulder, “I’ll take it…Thank you.”
Natasha returned the bump and rolled to her feet, offering a hand to Darcy to pull her up, “You’re welcome. Now as for your Loki problem, I have an idea on that.”
“I am open to all the suggestions, lay it on me.”
The two strolled off towards the showers, Natasha leaning in close to relay her strategy.
Darcy’s cackle was heard throughout the entire floor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning after Loki had settled his internal struggle, he’d made sure to wake before Darcy did.
He wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about succumbing to his need for comfort, and getting into bed with her. If anything, leaving her was much more of a struggle.
The first rays of the morning cast such a warm glow upon her face that he couldn’t tear himself away. Lovely as she was awake, with wicked eyes and matching smiles meant to tease him in the worst ways; in her sleep she was a different type of beauty.
He knew of the Midgardian story that tells of a princess, cursed to an eternity of sleep until the kiss of her true love should wake her. In another time and another place, Loki could easily picture Darcy as that princess. Maybe…just maybe, in that same time and place, he could have been the prince that broke the enchantment.
Loki tore himself away and went back to his room to get ready.
If he was going to prevent Darcy from tearing herself apart, he was going to need more of his power back.
~-~-~-~
An hour later he knocked on the door.
Two, three, four.
Loki couldn’t help but count his heartbeats as he waited. Each one was a moment in which he could turn back around and go straight to his room. Surely even with his powers restricted he could handle a mortal woman’s untrained-
The door opened, and Thor greeted him, “Loki.”
Any remaining thoughts of going back to his room fled, and Loki felt himself uncoiling. He hadn’t felt so calm in Thor’s presence since…since… ‘The day before Odin announced the coronation date.’
Loki wanted to cry, laugh, and throttle himself all in the same instant.
With his claim to his own name, he had shed some of the tethers his mind had made to the darkest part of his soul. Free of them, he found himself saying a phrase he’d not uttered since boyhood, “Brother, I need your help.”