Jane sighed. Darcy wrapped an arm around her and smiled. “Don’t worry it won’t take too long.”

Famous last words…

Darcy groaned as Jane stood up to pace again. It was after midnight and the guys still hadn’t come out of the “War Room” as Tony had dubbed it.

“Oh come on Jane, sit down, you’re going to make me dizzy with all that pacing.” Jane sat beside her on the couch with a humph. “Why don’t you pick the movie this time? It can be whatever sappy romcom you want.”

“Do you still have ‘Kill Bill’?” She growled.

Darcy cringed. “Yikes. How about we start with a few episodes of Revenge and build up to Quentin Tarantino.” Darcy got up to look through her DVD collection.

There was a knock on the door. Internally Darcy pleaded with the heavens above as she went to answer the door. Thor stood there filling the doorway with his bulk. “Oh thank god.” She muttered as she turned around. “Jane, delivery!” She called. She heard the other woman grumble about not being hungry. “Oh I think you’ll want this, it’s big, blonde, and burly.”

Jane came tearing through the apartment. Darcy stepped out of the way just in time to avoid being in the middle of a very enthusiastic greeting. Darcy grinned at first, and then when it began to go on and on she grew uncomfortable.

“Alright guys, why don’t you take that to Jane’s apartment?” Darcy groused.

Thor set Jane back down, gave Darcy a wounded puppy dog look. “Tony has informed me of my brother’s…”

Darcy stopped him with an upraised hand. “No don’t, please don’t. I really don’t want to talk about what happened. It’s over and done with.” She swallowed and shook her head. “Look, it’s been great seeing you and all but Jane’s been mopey all day, you guys go have fun, don’t worry about me, I’m totally fine.”

Thor laid a heavy hand on her shoulder, “It was good to see you too Lady Darcy, we shall have to talk soon, while I understand your reluctance to speak of it this is not a matter to be lightly brushed aside. I have only one thing that I ask of you, please consider carefully what may have happened between Loki and yourself. My brother has done many terrible things but he has never intentionally harmed any of his lovers that I am aware of. Also knowing Loki, I am certain whatever is between the two of you is hardly over and done with.” He gave her one more concerned look, and allowed himself to be dragged away by Jane.

A cool breeze brushed past Darcy, she shivered, shut the door, and sighed heavily. It was late and she felt exhausted by the emotional upheaval of the day. The joy and elation from the successful test, the excitement of Thor’s return, and the long wait with Jane. And of course, Tony, the blockhead, had to go and tell Thor about him. If she wanted to talk to Thor about she would have done it in her own time, in her own way. Now he was going to keep looking at her like she was a broken thing with those big sad blue eyes.

She huffed and straightened up her apartment so she could go to bed. She grabbed the last of her iced tea and took it with her to her room. She brushed her hair; pulled on a big floppy old t-shirt, flipped off the lights, sat down in the middle of the bed, and pulled her covers up over her legs. Thor’s words began to echo in her mind.

“JARVIS?” she called softly.

“Yes, Ms. Lewis?”

She sighed, “Tony said there was some footage of the time Loki was here with me.” She swallowed a small lump of fear. “Would you pull it up for me?” she asked quietly.

“Would you prefer Mr. Stark’s edited version or would you prefer the long running feed?”
Darcy grimaced, “Uh, how long is the long running feed?”

“There is over ninety-eight hours on that feed.”

“Ah no, that would take way too much time. What about the edited footage, Tony didn’t make a porno of me did he?”

There was humor in the AI’s response. “No, there is nothing of that nature in Mr. Stark’s edited version. Though if that is what you are looking for I can pull up the restored footage of the last ten hours of Mr. Odinson’s stay in the tower.”

“No, I’m not really sure I’m, ready to see… Wait a minute, did you say ten hours?”

“Yes ma’am, though to be fair the last two hours are of the both of you sleeping.”

Darcy’s mind went into overdrive. “Holy crap, talk about godly stamina.” She muttered. Damn no wonder she was sore the next day, freakin marathon sex, for eight whole hours… whoa…

“Ms. Lewis…” The AI’s voice cut through Darcy’s thoughts. “Did you want to see the edited footage, or the restored footage?”

“Umm, why is it ‘restored’ footage?”

“You asked me…” Darcy heard her own voice excitedly whispering, “Hey, I know Tony put some cameras and probably some mics in here. I want to spend some ‘personal’ time with my man but I’d rather not do anything that Tony can see. Can you help me out; I don’t know blur the image or put some static in the sound or something? Please JARVIS?” “I have since restored the footage in the off chance you may want to view it again yourself.”

“Oh, okay, I guess I’m just going to go with Tony’s version for right now.”

Her television popped on and the footage started with Loki carrying her in to her apartment bridal style, she was laughing, blushing, and fussing at him, but Darcy couldn’t tell what she was saying because the dialog had been replaced with some 80’s sounding instrumental sax music. “Wait, wait, wait.” The video feed paused. “JARVIS, did Tony replace all of the dialogue with this kind of music?”

“Yes, he did. I believe he thought it would seem more romantic.”

Darcy shook her head and chuckled. “Remind me to give Pepper my condolences when she gets back from L.A. Okay, can you strip out the music, restore the dialog, and restart it for me? That should be enough for now.”

“Here is the restored edited feed. Good night Ms. Lewis, and please, if you have need of anything else, just let me know.”

“Thanks, J.” she said softly as the feed began to play. He was carrying her into her apartment. It was when they had returned from the hospital. She was fussing at him because she felt he was also unwell and shouldn’t be carrying her. She kept calling him Tom, and his face looked different from what she remembered from the footage about the attack in New York. A little broader, a little more masculine,his hair was lighter, and he had a goatee. He looked the way Orlando Bloom did in Pirates of the Caribbean. She found herself thinking he looked better as himself. She shook her head. ‘Focus Darcy.’

She watched the scenes of domesticity play out before her. They spoke of her head injury, of the awful doctors at the hospital, and of other far less important things. But all the while, she saw him treat her so carefully. As she watched him healing and his powers returning she noticed he seemed sad, in moments when her filmed counterpart wasn’t paying attention he almost seemed depressed, like he feared he was about to lose her. Then her counterpart would turn and say something silly and he would laugh and he would act as though the sadness had never crossed his face.

He seemed to want to carry her everywhere. If she moved to do something, he followed her watching after her. They had a small fight about something but it was though they were speaking in code. She kept asking to see the ‘real’ him and he refused. After the argument, they sat on the couch kissing and staring deep into one another’s eyes. She blushed at the intimacy of the kiss. Over and over again, she heard him call her some sort of pet name, mean elks kay da or something like that. He spoke it with such tenderness, and her counterpart always seemed to melt a little when he called her that.

The feed ended after about thirty minutes and Darcy sat quietly on her bed wondering why he would have taken her memories. He didn’t seem to be pretending in how much he cared. He truly seemed like he was working on the whole redemption arc thing. The man that walked through that video was not the mad man who had tried to conquer her planet. She found herself against logic beginning to like the version of Loki from the footage. What had changed him? If he was truly changed then why did he take her memories, why?

Loki sat invisible in the chair across from her bed. He had followed her to her room, hoping just to watch her sleep. He had other important things he could, probably should be doing to prepare for the upcoming battle, but he just wanted to reassure himself that she was indeed fine and settled in for the night. He watched as she spoke with the AI and grinned when she seemed impressed by his prowess. When the feed began to play, he watched her watch them. The footage seemed to be softening her heart somewhat and he found himself growing a tad bit more fond of the billionaire. She blushed and pulled the blanket higher when she watched them kissing.

When the feed cut off she looked sad and pensive. More than anything, he wanted to give her back her memories. He had dissected the spell in his mind repeatedly. The only reason he could come up with the spell malfunctioning so badly was that it had countermanded the spell his mother had used to bring them together in the first place. A sorcerer had to be particularly careful when removing another’s magic from a third party, and this was precisely why. There were always unforeseeable complications. There was an off chance that if he and his mother worked together her memories could be restored, but he would not attempt anything until after the coming battle.

“JARVIS?” Darcy’s voice sounded so unsure, so unlike her normal energetic self.

“Yes, Ms. Lewis?”

“If you put the umm, restored feed,” she blushed profusely, “on the TV in here, will my remote be able to fast-forward though it, like it would for a normal DVD?”

“Yes, you can also, pause, rewind, watch it in slow-motion, or stop it altogether, if you so choose.”

Darcy felt like her face was going to combust, “Okay, thanks J. Um, could you make sure no one else can ever see this?”

“Yes of course. Will there be anything thing else Ms. Lewis?”

“No. Thanks again JARVIS, I promise I won’t bug you any more tonight.”

“It is no trouble. Happy viewing.” Darcy could swear she heard a smirk in the automated voice.

She grabbed her remote and fidgeted a bit before she started the feed. She wanted, no needed to know what happened to make him take her memories, and her last possible place to search for answers was in this part of the footage. She pulled the covers up even higher to right under her chin, squeezed her eyes shut, and mumbled “I’m about to watch my own sex tape.” She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and pushed play. It was odd to see herself acting so happy and confident with him. Not that she didn’t put on that act for everyone but she didn’t seem like she was pretending there.

Anyone who knew her would label her as loud, boisterous, and full of herself. Her volume and her many layers of clothes were her sword and shield. When she pretended confidence loud enough and long enough, people believed it. In truth, she hid a terrible lack of self-confidence. She wasn’t petite like Jane or model skinny like Pepper. Her wide hips and big boobs came with a soft squishy belly no matter how much she worked out or how little she ate.

He watched, as she seemed to retreat further under the covers. He couldn’t understand her reaction to the footage, he had hoped she would be aroused by it not… well not this, whatever it was. Her distress concerned him and he skimmed her thoughts. He was overwhelmed by her negative self-image. She had him fooled, he believed her to be comfortable with herself, but in truth, she was terribly insecure. He pulled back from her mind in shock. Her venomous anger at his ‘betrayal’ made far more sense in context. He wanted to stand and pace as his mind sorted out this dichotomy in her character.

He was distracted by a moan. Darcy sat cocooned in her covers as her counterpart writhed and moaned, wanton beneath him. Oddly, the footage did not show his Jotun nature. He was glad of it; he had neverturned blue during intimacy before he knew of his true heritage, and there had been no one else after his discovery or before Darcy. The only plausible reason he could conceive that it happened with her was that she truly knew and accepted him totally. He had not explained to her, he didn’t want to frighten her, but he had spoken his half of a bonding ceremony. She was his other half, his true mate.

His true mate, the words rung in his mind. He was bonded to her, no matter her short lifespan, no matter that she presently rejected him; he would have her and no other the rest of his days.

On screen, she moaned his name, in the bed, she shook her head, and tears glistened in her eyes. He could stand it no longer. He slowly and carefully skimmed her thoughts, she was roiling with emotion. She was surprised by his passion, confused how this could be the same man who tried to take over her planet, embarrassed by her own wanton moaning, and even a bit aroused by all of it. But her most devastating thought, the one that seemed to resonate loudest in her mind was how such a beautiful sexy man could want her… He felt an almost overwhelming urge to lay her out on the bed and worship her body with his mouth until she understood that it was he that did not deserve her, not the other way around. He may not be able to do that physically but… a wicked smile crossed his face.

He carefully looked into her thoughts again, he found the small part of her mind that was aroused by the footage and began to play with it. He feed little thoughts into her mind about how his hands had moved, about how well their bodies had fit together, about how much he had enjoyed her body. On the bed, her eyes cleared and she grew slightly warm. She squirmed and loosened the covers. Pleased with her reaction, he upped the temperature in the room slightly. She removed the covers entirely.

She was growing more and more turned on by the video. He was everything she had always desired in a lover, thorough, attentive, a little demanding, and a little rough. She watched herself come undone beneath him, and she couldn’t stand it anymore. The room was slightly warm, so she pulled off her t-shirt, tossed it at the chair across from her bed, paused the movie, and laid back on the bed.

She couldn’t handle imagining him yet, so she went with an imaginary faceless lover instead.Lying on her bed with her eyes closed, she imagined long lean hands trailing over her body. ‘Okay, starting to work’, she smiled. She allowed her hands to move slowly over her body the way her imaginary faceless lover’s might. Her hands trailed ever so lightly down her neck between the valley of her breasts, moving slowly. Her fingertips danced across her dusky pink areolas, her nipples tightening in anticipation. She lightly pinched one, and a soft gasp parted her full lips. She licked her fingers and trailed it around and over the other nipple, imagining it was her faceless lover’s clever tongue. One hand continued pinching and teasing her nipples as the other wandered down her soft skin to her mound.

He was careful with the magic he used, he did nothing that would leave a lasting effect on Darcy. Even in his desire for her, he remembered the dangers and sought to protect her from those that would seek to harm her as revenge against him. Thus, he had been distracted by these thoughts when her nightshirt hit him in the face. He quickly moved it so that she would not notice his invisible form, and found a very tempting sight awaiting him. She was laid out on her bed naked except for her underwear. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be trying to work something out in her mind, he could see her eyes moving rapidly under her eyelids. She huffed lightly tossing her head. She seemed to come to some sort of decision though and a smile crossed her full lips. Her hands were in motion teasing her body. The smell of her desire flooded his senses, and he held himself perfectly still. A soft gasp rent the silence of the room. He knew he should leave, that he should not intrude on the privacy of that moment, that observing her this way could be the final inch of rope with which he might hang himself, but damned if he could find the will to care.

Her imaginary lover had begun to take form in her mind. He was lean and pale but still muscular, like a swimmer. He whispered filthy naughty things in her ear that made her moan aloud. He had an accent, maybe French, or Australian, or British… British, she decided. His voice was smooth and cultured but when he whispered those coarse words, it took on a raspy, rough quality. Her hand moved more urgently, pinching a little harder, and pulling slightly. The other slipped below her panties and dipped into her center. Her voice was barely above a whisper, “So wet…” and she moaned again. She pulled her hand out of her panties and yanked them off quickly so that she would have more room the move. Her hand immediately went back down between her widely splayed thighs. Her lower lip caught between her teeth as she imagined long fingers twisting together inside of her, as she stared into gorgeous blue… no green eyes. Bright green eyes that seem to stare right into her soul. She arched her back and groaned. She rolled her hips as her thumb came in contact with her clit. Her imaginary lover slipped down her body and buried his face between her thighs. She imagined all she could see was ginger curls… no blonde…no… umm, long black hair, yeah long black hair that was slick at some point, but was messy now from her hands. Her whole body seemed to flush with heat as her hand moved faster.

Heat… She went still. Her eyes popped open, she reached over to her tea, and with her clean hand, she grabbed a large chunk of ice from the glass. She laid back and trailed the ice around her nipples; they tightened almost painfully. She hissed softly, as she moved it all over her body; her breath coming in short pants. Her imaginary lover was above her now, not so faceless anymore. Black hair, green eyes, high cheekbones, thin almost cruel lips... Her body stilled, suddenly she realized precisely who her fantasy man was.He looked the way he had in the footage from the attack on New York.

Hell, Freud would have a field day with her messed up head. The image of him in her mind had a twisted mischievous smirk. A wicked smile spread across her face in response. She could use his image to get off, it’s not like anyone else was going to know. He was just stuck in her mind because of the footage that was all; it wasn’t like she had feelings for the guy. Her hand returned to her aching core and she began to twist her fingers the same way she’d seen him do in the footage. “Ohmygod,” she whispered. That felt good. She brought the ice down and circled it around her clit. Her body was taught with pleasure and she began to pant lightly.

He watched her, his leather trousers growing tighter with her every gasp, her every whispered word. She removed her underwear and unknowingly put herself on display for him. The light of the TV illuminating her pale skin and the dark hair above her moist core. He longed to release his aching member and stroke himself to completion in time with the movement of her hand buried in her center. She stopped for a moment and then quickly pulled an ice cube from the glass on her bedside table. He swallowed back a groan as he watched the rivulets trail across her naked flesh. By the nine, she was temptation embodied.

She went still and the energy in the room seemed to change. He held his breath, certain he’d been caught somehow. When she began again, he gave a silent sigh of relief. Curious about her abrupt stop and start he skimmed her mind again. She was fantasizing about him. He swallowed hard. His pulse sped up as he watched her fingers twist in clear imitation of his technique. Her whispered oath and use of the ice had his cock hard as a rock. He loosened his trousers and took himself in hand. He squeezed tightly trying to alleviate some of the ache.

She trailed the ice coated in her own fluids all over her body as her teeth raked over her full bottom lip.

He brought the temperature in the room down slightly.

Her nipples pebbled and goose bumps rose on her skin.

She was so far gone in her fantasy he wondered if she’d even notice if he…

She thought of him and the ice seemed appropriate. She reached over, grabbed another piece of ice, and gasped as she pressed it near her opening. Her hips rolled in time with her hand at her core.

He stroked himself as he watched her draw closer and closer to completion. He coaxed her mind to run the ice over the mostly healed bite mark.

She dragged the ice slowly up her body, shivering and moaning softly as it melted against her hot skin. She brought it around her neck to cool her body and when it touched the tender skin of the bite mark, she gasped sharply.

He stood silently, moving carefully, the only sound in the room was her gasps and the wet squishing of her fingers in her core.His hand swiped though some of the wetness pooling on the sheet below her. He wrapped his wet hand around his cock and fought the urge to possess her fully. He leaned over her and blew lightly on the wet trails left behind by the ice.

Her body arched into the sensation and she released a loud moan. She was truly beautiful; her skin flushed deep pink and her lips bitten red. He sent a tiny jolt of magic to her clit.
“Holy shit!” Her hand began to move frantically between her thighs, her breast shook with the force of her movements.

There was heat curling in his belly, and he felt his balls tighten. He clamped a hand over his own mouth to physically fight the urge to growl and moan along with her. His hand moved faster as he pumped in time with her. He sent another small jolt and she came around her fingers, her thighs clamping around her hand and a long loud moan that sounded suspiciously like his name. His hand moved frantically and he came in long ropey strands across the sheets beside her. Her eyes stayed shut as she shuddered through the aftershocks of her orgasm. He used a quick cleaning spell to remove the evidence of his presence, tucked himself back in his trousers, and sat back in the chair across from her.

“Hot damn,” she mumbledas she stood up to get her t-shirt and panties. She walked into the bathroom to clean up.

When she left the room he let out a long shaky breath, he needed her like oxygen. He was determined; she would live through this upcoming battle no matter the cost. He gave one last cursory look around and disappeared from the room.

Notes