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sophia_sol) wrote2011-06-06 01:31 pm
sophia_sol) wrote2011-06-06 01:31 pm
Entry tags:
Thor fic: Insert popular music reference here
My problem: Loki is a twisty and clever dude. I am bad at writing twisty and clever. (whyyyy do I always have to fall for the twisty and clever ones?) My other problem: Darcy is a singularly unhelpful character. I adore her epic doesn't-care, but it means that when there are tantalizing bits of plot poking into her life she goes "whatevs" and moves on. She doesn't take the bait.
So, uh, have a random ficlet about Darcy and Loki. Darcy wanted to be written about, and then Loki showed up, and then I have no idea what happens after this so I'm just releasing it into the wild as a standalone scene.
So. Here y'go.
Title: Insert popular music reference here
Fandom: Thor
Characters: Darcy, Loki
Wordcount: 697
Summary: In which Darcy doesn't care about school, and Loki doesn't know where he is.
Darcy's sitting in class, bored out of her skull. Does she really want to be learning about public policy and administration? No. No she does not. Especially not at goddamn 8:30 in the morning. That would be why she's playing Angry Birds on her new iPod.
She's still angry with SHIELD for stealing her old one, the bastards.
But really, she thinks, as she sends birds flying and studiously tunes out the prof's voice, why is she here anyways?
Okay, yes, obviously to get her degree. But her summer position as physics lab monkey for Jane was probably actually the most interesting thing that's happened to her since going to university. She hates all her classes and her profs are stupid and why's she wasting money on this?
She glances up briefly from Angry Birds to look at the prof and the powerpoint, both of which are earnestly telling her about bureaucratic decision-making processes, and rolls her eyes. Yeah, whatever, she's done with this crap. Into her pocket goes her iPod, and then she's grabbing her backpack and walking out of class, right across the front of the room. The prof stares at her in a gormless sort of way as she leaves, and she lets the door slam behind her. It's kind of satisfying.
As she walks back to her shitty apartment, tossing her umbrella idly in her hands -- the forecast was wrong, again -- she begins to considers her options.
Then she stops considering, because there's a guy on the street in front of her, wearing a green cape and a hilarious helmet with horns, and looking distressed. He turns his wild eyes on Darcy when he notices her, and she sticks her umbrella under her arm and reaches into her bag for her taser.
But all he does is turn his gaze back away from Darcy, like he's decided she isn't important but doesn't know what is. Whatever, she thinks, and keeps on walking, taser firmly in hand.
"Wait!" the man says suddenly. Apparently he's changed his mind about her.
Darcy sighs and turns back to face him. "What?" she says.
"I need help," he says.
She gives him a level look. "Yeah, I can tell."
The man's face goes earnest under his awful helmet. "I'm terribly sorry to bother you," he says. "My friends thought it would be funny to dress me up like this and dump me here without any of my things. A prank. I was too drunk last night to do anything to stop them. Hell, last night I thought it was funny."
"Uh huh," says Darcy, giving her umbrella an idle toss with her left hand. She doesn't believe a bit of what he just said. "So what are you wanting from me, then? Directions? A lift home in my nonexistent car? All the money out of my wallet? Not happening, I'm warning you."
"No, I would just like to know where I am."
"You can't read the street signs?" She jabs her umbrella towards the intersection just a few houses down.
The man gives her a look. It's a surprisingly successful one, given the things he's wearing. How anyone can avoid looking ridiculous in that get-up is beyond her, but somehow this guy is managing. He's got presence. Or something. If nothing else, he's hot. Darcy's good at appreciating an attractive man when the universe presents her with one.
"Of course I can read street signs," he says. "But that doesn't help if I don't know the city the streets are in."
Darcy sighs. "What, really? That's kinda stupid of you."
"I am aware." The man sounds bitter.
Deciding to play along, she says, "You're in Albuquerque. That's in New Mexico, which is in the United States. Need me to keep going?"
"Please."
And the strange thing is, he looks almost serious, although his tone is sarcastic. Darcy eyes him warily. He looks back, innocence written all over him.
"You're on Earth," she tells him. "Happy now?"
"Thrilled," he says, still with that mix of sarcasm/seriousness. His cape flutters behind him as he shifts in place.
"You're welcome," Darcy says, and walks away. She doesn't look back.
Also on AO3
So, uh, have a random ficlet about Darcy and Loki. Darcy wanted to be written about, and then Loki showed up, and then I have no idea what happens after this so I'm just releasing it into the wild as a standalone scene.
So. Here y'go.
Title: Insert popular music reference here
Fandom: Thor
Characters: Darcy, Loki
Wordcount: 697
Summary: In which Darcy doesn't care about school, and Loki doesn't know where he is.
Darcy's sitting in class, bored out of her skull. Does she really want to be learning about public policy and administration? No. No she does not. Especially not at goddamn 8:30 in the morning. That would be why she's playing Angry Birds on her new iPod.
She's still angry with SHIELD for stealing her old one, the bastards.
But really, she thinks, as she sends birds flying and studiously tunes out the prof's voice, why is she here anyways?
Okay, yes, obviously to get her degree. But her summer position as physics lab monkey for Jane was probably actually the most interesting thing that's happened to her since going to university. She hates all her classes and her profs are stupid and why's she wasting money on this?
She glances up briefly from Angry Birds to look at the prof and the powerpoint, both of which are earnestly telling her about bureaucratic decision-making processes, and rolls her eyes. Yeah, whatever, she's done with this crap. Into her pocket goes her iPod, and then she's grabbing her backpack and walking out of class, right across the front of the room. The prof stares at her in a gormless sort of way as she leaves, and she lets the door slam behind her. It's kind of satisfying.
As she walks back to her shitty apartment, tossing her umbrella idly in her hands -- the forecast was wrong, again -- she begins to considers her options.
Then she stops considering, because there's a guy on the street in front of her, wearing a green cape and a hilarious helmet with horns, and looking distressed. He turns his wild eyes on Darcy when he notices her, and she sticks her umbrella under her arm and reaches into her bag for her taser.
But all he does is turn his gaze back away from Darcy, like he's decided she isn't important but doesn't know what is. Whatever, she thinks, and keeps on walking, taser firmly in hand.
"Wait!" the man says suddenly. Apparently he's changed his mind about her.
Darcy sighs and turns back to face him. "What?" she says.
"I need help," he says.
She gives him a level look. "Yeah, I can tell."
The man's face goes earnest under his awful helmet. "I'm terribly sorry to bother you," he says. "My friends thought it would be funny to dress me up like this and dump me here without any of my things. A prank. I was too drunk last night to do anything to stop them. Hell, last night I thought it was funny."
"Uh huh," says Darcy, giving her umbrella an idle toss with her left hand. She doesn't believe a bit of what he just said. "So what are you wanting from me, then? Directions? A lift home in my nonexistent car? All the money out of my wallet? Not happening, I'm warning you."
"No, I would just like to know where I am."
"You can't read the street signs?" She jabs her umbrella towards the intersection just a few houses down.
The man gives her a look. It's a surprisingly successful one, given the things he's wearing. How anyone can avoid looking ridiculous in that get-up is beyond her, but somehow this guy is managing. He's got presence. Or something. If nothing else, he's hot. Darcy's good at appreciating an attractive man when the universe presents her with one.
"Of course I can read street signs," he says. "But that doesn't help if I don't know the city the streets are in."
Darcy sighs. "What, really? That's kinda stupid of you."
"I am aware." The man sounds bitter.
Deciding to play along, she says, "You're in Albuquerque. That's in New Mexico, which is in the United States. Need me to keep going?"
"Please."
And the strange thing is, he looks almost serious, although his tone is sarcastic. Darcy eyes him warily. He looks back, innocence written all over him.
"You're on Earth," she tells him. "Happy now?"
"Thrilled," he says, still with that mix of sarcasm/seriousness. His cape flutters behind him as he shifts in place.
"You're welcome," Darcy says, and walks away. She doesn't look back.
Also on AO3
WHERE SOPHIA SHOULD GO NEXT. NOW START WRITING BECAUSE YOUR DARCY IS INFINITLY AWESOMER THAN MINE.
His helmet is stupid, and she tells him so. He makes it vanish, although she doesn’t quite catch how. And, hey, they said the skills she acquired in her internship would serve her well in her future life, so she stops and promptly formulates a hypothesis and attempts to prove it by informing him that the cape is stupid as well. It’s gone between one blink and the next. Third times not a charm, because she tells him his pants are stupid and he just gives her a look.
And that’s about the end of the entertainment value, so she cheerfully informs him that he, too, is stupid, and walks away again. She heads for a coffee shop. Lots of people. Potential reduction of the need for taser-related lawsuits.
Her tells her that she’s beautiful. She tells him to fucks off. He smiles shyly, like she just paid him a compliment. And then he buys her a latte.
For the love of god, it was like having a puppy. An annoying puppy with, okay, really gorgeous eyes. But eyes attached to a body that was about five times too skinny for Darcy’s taste, and if Luke Laufison tried to seduce her one more time he’d be getting snugly with 50,000 volts of electricity. Because there’s only so much a girl can take, especially when he obviously only wants her for her resume.
Because she’s not stupid, right? Guys in crazy fantasy armour wandering around New Mexico – yeah, like he’s not from the same loony bin as Thor, Viking!Xena, and The Nutjobs Three. She’s totally being used. On the other hand, he bought her a latte. Her usual order, too, without asking her, which – okay, definitely keeping the taser closer at hand. But then he brought her a scone. She doesn’t like scones. He eats it himself, and gets crumbs on his shirt, which – when did it stop being crazy armour and start being a shirt? The point is, he bought her a latte. And she likes lattes.
She finishes her latte, and he buys her another, and somehow she’s been ranting about her Prof for, like, an hours, and he actually genuinely seems to be enjoying listening to her and so now apparently they’ve got some kind of mutually abusive puppy/owner flirting-and-lattes-and-also-scones relationship?
Which maybe should be concerning. But.
Whatever.
DAMN YOUUUUUUU
"You," Darcy says, pointing at Luke with the empty mug she's still holding. "It's your turn to talk now, bud. Somehow I don't think you actually care deeply about the intricacies of my feelings about school."
"Well, that's not the reason I'm enjoying listening to you," he says, smiling at her.
Darcy rolls her eyes. "Good answer. But you're not getting out of this so easily. You want something from me, don't even try to deny it."
He leans forward, elbows on the table, and looks sheepish.
"So. Explain."
"That internship you had this summer," he begins.
"I knew it!"
MUAHAHAHAHA
“You’re one of those crazy lightning story-book people!” She glares at him across the table, then adds, “The stupid armour gave it away.”
The look of shock begins fading, to be replaced with confusion. “Armour?”
“The armour. That you... made disappear....” Her scowl deepens. “I saw it, you know.”
“Right,” Luke says, in the faintly conciliatory tones of someone humouring the crazy person. “The thing is, when I’m not... being lightning in a story-book?”
“Lightning-person. God. Thing. From a story-book.” She hesitates. Okay, so, not exactly a person prone to self-doubt, but when she says it aloud like that...
“Right,” he says again. “When I’m not doing that, I study science at UNM. Less lightning, more wormholes.”
“The two,” she drawls in the weary tones of experience, “are not mutually exclusive.
Oh, christ. If we’re gonna have this conversation, I need another latte.”
He takes her mug and goes to get it filled again, without even the tiniest of snide comments about her caffeine intake. It’s probably his best trait, this willingness to fetch her caffeine on demand and without a lecture. It’s almost worth keeping him around just for this. Even though he’s probably crazy.
“Okay,” she says when he returns, before he can quite open his mouth. “Either I’m crazy or you’re a liar, so I’m just going to assume from here that everything you say is a lie. Explain to me why you give a crap about the internship that hell forgot.”
*STICKS OUT TONGUE*
"I just -- well, I wanted that internship, if you must know."
He seems about to say something more, but he's cut off by Darcy bursting out laughing. Really? That's going to be his story? And here she was going to give him at least a little credit for his skills in the lies department.
Luke just looks tragic. "I know, I know," he says. "You were the only applicant, I know. It was -- well, I was stupid. I wrote the application deadline onto my calendar on the wrong month, and by the time I realized my mistake it was too late. Believe me, I did a lot of yelling at myself over that one. The opportunity of a lifetime! To get to actually do work on the topic I really love, with someone as talented and dedicated as Dr Foster!" He sinks down in his chair, and presses his face into his hands. "Oh, I still can't believe I actually did that to myself."
Darcy goes still partway into that little speech. It's not that she believes him, because she totally doesn't. It's just that, well, it's a sentiment she understands. It's not like she'd purposely chosen to do an internship as far out of her chosen field as possible -- it was just that she hadn't been accepted for the internships she had wanted, for the things she did care about, and she'd been left going "screw that" and applying to every single internship she could that was still open. Credits were credits, even if they were totally useless to her.
But she's still fucking angry about not getting that digital censorship position, and it's that that leads her to sigh, and say, "Yeah."
Re: *STICKS OUT TONGUE*
He looks miserable. Like a puppy, still, but one that just got smacked with a newspaper. “I know.”
“That’s about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You total numbnut.”
“I know.” His head hangs even lower. “Believe me, you can’t call me any foul name I haven't already called myself a dozen times.”
“Fat-kidneyed coxcomb.”
Luke looks up, and blinks. “What?”
She grins. Only good thing she got out of that Shakespeare elective. “Just proving a point. Sorry, go on. I think you were telling me what a total dumb-ass you are? But mostly I’m just curious how you think I can help. If you’re here to beg me to give you the internship, I’ve got some bad news: you wrote the date down wrong again. Internship’s over.”
“No, no.” He shakes his head. “I know that. But I’ve one more summer term before I graduate, and I already have my internship credit, but I thought maybe - well, I thought perhaps she might offer a similar position this year, as well.”
“Sure, maybe,” says Darcy, shrugging. “And you’re here talking to me because...?”
He shrugs, an expression of helpless frustration on her face. “No one has seen Dr. Foster since last summer.”
Oh. Right. Working for a shadowy government spook squad. That would probably make a person tough to track down. “Remember the ‘internship hell forgot’ part?” she shoots back. “I’m probably the last person the Doc wants to talk with. I haven't seen her since she handed me my term-end review and wished me an insincere best of luck in all my future endeavours.”
Which was true. Really. Strictly speaking.
Re: *STICKS OUT TONGUE*
"No, of course not," says Darcy scathingly, and this one is a lie. Hey, if he's going to lie, she has no problem doing the same to him.
Luke sighs theatrically. "If you're going to brand me a liar, the least you could do is not make yourself a hypocrite."
Oh, he's good. She knows she's pretty great at lying convincingly. "You caught me," she says. She grins at him, insincere and enjoying herself, and takes a drink from her latte.
"So?" he prods. "Can't you please help me out? Even just a clue! I'd be happy to go on my knees and beg, if it would make a difference." He pauses. "Would it?"
Darcy's grin turns genuine. She rather likes the visual he's giving her -- this proud and clever and tricky and desperate man on the floor in front of her. "Maybe," she drawls. "Care to find out?"
THE THRILLING CONCLUSION
Suddenly the image of Luke on his knees is a little less titillating then it had been when she’d assumed he wouldn’t actually do it. She can feel her cheeks heat, and she hopes to hell she isn’t blushing. She thought she lost her blush - along with the last vestiges of societally-induced shame - back in her teens. But that’s maybe just a bit too sexy for the middle of a crowded coffee shop. An exhibition kink she does not have, thank-you very much.
“Changed my mind,” she says hastily. “You stay right in that seat, hear me?”
He smiles, and it’s that same shy smile as before only now she can see the way his eyes gleam. Point to Luke, and the bastard damn well knows it.
Darcy narrows her eyes, thinking. On the one hand, if she obliges him, Luke becomes Jane’s problem. It’s not like the Doc ever did anything for Darcy, except grudgingly hire her on and then boss her around like a pint-sized tyrant all summer. On the other hand, it’s not like Luke ever did anything to her except buy her a couple of lattes.
Admittedly, Jane’s sort of endearingly crazy, in an oh-my-god, it’s-a-miracle-of-the-universe, can’t-sleep-too-busy-being-nuts kind of way. But on the other hand, Luke’s sort of endearingly a bastard, in charmingly dishonest, puppy-like way. She’s still not just how much of that story was a total crock, but she;s reasonably sure that the answer is “most of it”.
“I don’t know where she is,” Darcy says slowly, then holds up her hand to cut off Luke’s protest. “Seriously, shut up. I’m not done yet. I don’t know where she is, but I might know where she will be. She e-mails me, sometimes. Trying to pick my brain for data that we lost when, uh, data that we lost. Like I’d remember any of that crap.”
Actually she remembered a decent amount of it - she’s a proud apathist, not an idiot - but that’s between her and Jane, and none of Luke’s damn business. Let him stay focused on the Doc; Jane has S.H.E.I.L.D. backing her up. Darcy only has Darcy.
“In her last e-mail,” Darcy continues, THINGY THAT GIVES AWAY WHERE SHE’S TAKING THE SHEILD EQUIVILENT OF LEAVE.
“Where?” Luke leans forward, and he’s projecting happy-puppy-undergrad so hard it’s practically bouncing off the back wall.
“Nu-uh.” Darcy shakes her head. “You want information? You have to pay for it.”
He hesitates. “Pay what?”
She notes that he says ‘what’, not ‘how much’, and quietly files it away in her growing mental file of evidence for ‘I’m not crazy, Luke’s the biggest lying liar in the whole damn world.’
And what does she want, anyways? Not money. She’s pretty sure Luke’s in a position to give her something more interesting then cash. And what Darcy needs right now, more than anything else, is something interesting. She’s been bored out of her skull ever since she got home from the internship hell forgot.
...what the heck. It’s not like her Profs are teaching her anything the textbooks aren’t.
“My price,” says Darcy with a grin, “is that I’m coming with you.”
Jane versus Luke, with S.H.E.I.L.D. looking on? Well, one thing’s for damn sure. It’s not gonna be boring.
-END-