Darcy was holding her breath, afraid of so much as breathing the wrong way, because Loki didn't move and he still hadn't said anything, and she could literally feel her stomach dropping.
How hideously embarrassing.
She was such an idiot, and now all she wanted was to go and shrivel up in a deep dark hole somewhere.

Extricating her hand from his, she nervously pushed a dark curl behind her ear, wishing she could remember the part in The Worst Case Scenarios Handbook about jumping from a moving vehicle. Although -- the fact they were in a plane made everything even more problematic -- There was nowhere to escape.

"You're being disturbingly quiet." She said eventually, unable to bear the awkward silence a moment longer. "Listen, I'm not saying I'm in love with you or anything. So you don't have to be all weirded out by it. You know I enjoy your company, God help me, so it's no big deal."

Her voice faded away, as his eyes studied her closely, darting to and fro across her face. "Isn't it?" His question sounded more like an accusation, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Is it truly no big deal? When you have just stated that you are afraid of never feeling with your boyfriend, the man whom you have chosen to have an intimate relationship with, the way you feel when you are with me. Now, surely you can understand my being intrigued by such a revelation? So do tell me, Miss Lewis.....how exactly do you feel when you're with me?"

Darcy swallowed.
What was happening to her? Why did she have to have feelings for Loki?
She should've been happy with Greg. Or at least content, but no. Her friendship with the God of Mischief had apparently blossomed without her even noticing, and the harmless, silly flirtation had escalated and now, the God who had initially annoyed her, even irritated her at times, had made her feel.....

Just how did he make her feel?

It should've been a difficult question to answer, but surprisingly it wasn't.
He made her feel alive. And carefree. He made her feel flirtatious and more confident. He made her mundane life somehow much more exciting and........happy.
Being with him, made her happy.
But most of all -- by some bizarre twist of fate -- during the time she had spent with him, he had made her feel wanted.
Cared about.
As if her opinions mattered.
As if she mattered.
Which was almost painfully ironic, considering that when she paused to think about it properly, she had a massive hang-up about him finding her petty and ridiculous. After all, how could he not? He was an extraterrestrial, a deity, with an enormous superiority complex.

But no one had ever made her feel the way he made her feel. And most worryingly of all, she felt in her heart of hearts they never could.
Even though there were many sides to him she still didn't know, and many parts of him she might not even ever understand, that didn't seem to matter.
It was those blank spaces that made her want to be closer, and what made her feel so comfortable around him.

"You still haven't answered me, Miss Lewis." Loki's smooth voice shattered her thoughts, and she blinked at him rapidly.

"I...well..." Her throat constricted, strangled by unspoken words that she didn't know how to express articulately. "...I have fun with you."

He stared at her, dark brows drawing together in a bewildered frown. "Fun?"

She nodded feebly, staring down at her hands, which she had clasped tightly together in her lap.

"What more than that?" He persisted.

"Why does there have to be more?"

"There must be. There is. Do not insult my intelligence by feigning ignorance."

"Like what?"

He reached across and took hold of her wrist, pushing the sleeve of her sweater up to reveal the rune tattoo, like it were an exhibit. A piece of evidence. His fingers against her skin made every nerve in her body tingle, and she felt a blush sweep her face, but she bristled with irritation.

"I explained about that." She stated, a little shakily.

"So you did. And then later that same night, you claimed you wanted me."

"Loki--"

"You willingly kissed me."

"I did, but--"

"We shared an extremely intimate moment--"

"We did, but it has to end there!" She sputtered.

Loki's expression darkened, and he dropped her wrist as though he'd just been bitten by a venomous snake. "Because of the boyfriend. Pathetic!" He snarled. "Human idiocy. Such blinkered sentimentality! You spoke once of every woman's yearning to feel wanted. To feel loved. To feel special. And yet it is becoming increasingly apparent to me that he lacks the ability to make you feel any of those things."

"This isn't just about Greg. Even if I wasn't with him, I wouldn't have slept with you, Loki. I don't want just casual sex anymore. I want more than that."

His eyes narrowed. "Casual sex? I'm not entirely sure I understand the concept. Surely there shouldn't be anything remotely casual about engaging in sexual intercourse."

Darcy sighed, squirming slightly with embarrassment. "We talked about it a bit, in the tattoo studio, remember? It's no-strings sex. Meaning you're not in a relationship with the person you sleep with."

"Yes I recall that conversation. And I told you then that personally, I find meaningful sex much more fulfilling. When there is an emotional attachment."

"Yeah, me too. But we...us...well, we're not dating. There's no emotional attachment is there? You're not my boyfriend, or my lover, so--"

"Just so we are clear, define the difference between a boyfriend and a lover?"

Darcy thought for a moment, her small brow scrunching in concentration. "Well, a boyfriend is someone you're in a monogamous relationship with. A lover is someone you just have sex with. And it doesn't have to be monogamous, for obvious reasons. That's how I'd define it anyway."

"So, am I right in saying you do not want a lover?" He ventured, cautiously.

"Yes. You're right. I don't. I want emotional attachment. I'm in....well, I'm supposed to be in a monogamous relationship with Greg. He's my....he's my boyfriend."

"Yet you fornicated with me, Miss Lewis."

"Ew. Can you not use that word, please? It sounds really seedy and gross." She pulled a face, as she was wracked with mortification.

He leaned in closer so she could feel his cool breath against her flushed cheek, and his voice dropped lower. "Word it how you will, it doesn't alter the fact that you accepted my tongue into your mouth. And you allowed me to pleasure you--"

"Will you keep your voice down!" She hissed, darting a nervous glance across the aisle. "I can't believe we're having this conversation here, now. I don't need a play-by-play recount of what we did. Okay, it was wrong of me to have done that, but I wanted to, so--"

"And why did you want to?" He demanded, his eyes flashing heat. "Your high moral standards would not usually permit you to engage in such an exchange so frivolously. That much I have come to realise. So, why did you?"

Darcy knew then that there was no point trying to avoid the inevitable any longer. She was worried about their friendship, obviously. But she was also worried that if she didn't tell Loki the truth, it would eat her alive.
Besides, he would never let it drop.
Persistent little shit.

"Because I like you." She admitted, not daring to meet his intrusive gaze in case she lost her nerve. "I mean I really like you, ya know? Like...a lot. There, I said it. Are you satisfied now?"

"Satisfaction is not in my nature." He replied tersely.

"Well, I've told you now. And it's no big deal. Because it changes nothing."

"Doesn't it?" He raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Well, no. At least I hope it doesn't. Does it? I don't want it to change things between us."

"On the contrary, Miss Lewis. I actually rather hope that it does."

Darcy felt her chest tighten with anxious hope. People talked all the time about falling for a friend, about how they were afraid it would ruin their friendship, or how scared they were at the thought of taking things to the next level.
Well, taking things to the next level is all she had been able to think about recently. Even though she knew it was wrong.

"H-how exactly?" She stammered nervously, daring to look him dead in the eye. "I've said, I don't want a lover....God that sounds so schmaltzy."

Loki leaned back into the seat, angling his upper-body so that it was twisted awkwardly toward her. "Explain to me if you would, the requirements of a Midgardian relationship dynamic."

Darcy stared at him wide-eyed. It didn't feel as if he was poking ten shades of fun out of her, but she was suspiciously wary. This conversation was taking so many bizarre and uncomfortable twists and turns, she had certainly forgotten all about her anxieties regarding flying.

"The dynamics?"

"Yes. For example, how does one pass the time with a 'boyfriend'?"

"Well, you hang out together. You go out on dates. Maybe for a meal, or dancing. But it's also nice to just relax, and watch TV, and cuddle up on the couch...."

Her words dissolved as his mouth kicked up at the corner. It was the first time he'd smiled since the plane had taken off, and it was alarmingly, devilishly attractive.

"Interesting. Miss Lewis, has it not yet occurred to you that we have already done all of those things together, you and I?"

Darcy felt a rush of heat from his words that seemed to spread from the very tips of her toes, to the roots of her hair.

"Uh, yeah. I guess we have. But what's your point?" She asked. Her head was spinning now, and she was finding it rather difficult to breath.

Loki huffed under his breath, a look of anguish imposed on his handsome face. "My point is, our relationship may not technically be defined as a romantic one, but we seem to fit rather comfortably within the parameters of that dynamic. Wouldn't you agree?"

Darcy's eyes widened and she felt her jaw slacken. Her imagination was at serious risk of running away with itself, and she had to quell her traitorous feelings. Her erratic heartbeat, her rocketing pulse, which made all her blood rush to her head.
No.
She had to be realistic. For once at least. Her head was often in the clouds, but she had to keep at least one foot firmly on the ground.

This was Loki, the God of Mischief.

"We do get along pretty well." She pointed out, meekly. "But I'm not sure you'd really be capable of a relationship."

She saw him clench his fists and press his lips together. His expression had instantly become guarded and haughty. Unsurprisingly, she had said the wrong thing.
As usual.

"You think me incapable?" He grated, the muscles in his jaw flexing in anger. "And why is that?"

"Look, don't take this the wrong way but....I think you're 'emotionally unavailable'" She said hurriedly, making quote marks in the air to emphasise the term of phrase.

"So you presume I am devoid of emotion?"

"No, I never said that. You may not be human, per sey, but that doesn't mean you don't feel things. But you're so guarded Loki, and hard to figure out." She took a slow, deep, careful breath. "When you're with someone, you have to let them in. Drop the barriers a bit. Let them get closer emotionally, not just physically. Do you really think you could share your personal thoughts, your feelings, with someone? And be honest and open with them?"

The temper in his eyes -- and his aura -- faltered, and he folded his arms defensively, a gesture which indicated her doubts were well founded. Such intimacy was not something he was comfortable with.

"And you would require this level of emotional intimacy?"

She nodded gently. "Well yeah. It's supposed to come as standard in a relationship. It's kind of necessary."

She could hardly believe that he actually seemed to be considering it.
This was insane.

"I confess, regrettably, that would be difficult." He murmured, eyes growing dark. "It is not something I'm accustomed to."

Her heart, which had been temporarily soaring, now sank like a stone.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
How could she have been such a dumbass? Allowing herself false hope, no matter how fleeting it was.

Cautiously, she placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "I know. I get it. But there's no weakness in showing vulnerability. It actually takes bravery and shows strength of character. Maybe it's something you could work on in the future. That is, if you wanted to."

He eyed her quizzically and allowed himself one unamused little smile. "Since when did you become so wise and philosophical, Miss Lewis?"

Darcy forced a breezy laugh, attempting to sound carefree. "Oh, I dunno. Since becoming a God-sitter I guess. You're a bad influence on me, space boy. I'm at risk of becoming all sensible."

"Heavens no. Don't do that."

The remainder of the journey passed in silence, but it wasn't as strained as Darcy might've expected it to be.
Loki sat staring out of the window, looking deep in thought, so she did the considerate thing, deciding it best to leave him to his quiet contemplation. Although she wished she could crawl inside that beautiful head of his, and find out what he was thinking. She wanted to peel him like a pear, and strip away the layers, to discover the workings of his complex mind. To search for the softer-side, which she had seen so many glimpses of.

When the plane came in to land, he thoughtfully took her small hand in a protective grasp, and she was touched again by his attentiveness. Once again he was wrecking the perception she had of him, of him being an untouchable egomaniac.

They made their way purposefully through the airport -- stopping only to collect what little 'luggage' they had, at the baggage carousel -- and Darcy called Greg to let him know that they'd arrived.

"He's out front. Waiting at the drop-off point." She informed a distinctly tight-faced Loki, as she stuffed her mobile phone back into her purse, heading for the sliding glass doors.

Outside, the smell of jet fuel, hot asphalt and car exhaust, replaced the mixed scents of the fading perfume women had been wearing, and restaurant coffee.

Just then she heard Greg's voice, and she turned to see his lumbering frame clambering out of a cab. He was wearing a tuxedo, which was undeniably smart. But even though she knew she shouldn't draw comparisons, she couldn't escape the blindingly obvious fact that he didn't look nearly as good in a suit as Loki did.

"Hey, Darcy!"

Hurriedly, she made her way over, trying in vain to scamper ahead of Loki. But as always, his freakishly long legs made it impossible to put some distance between them.

"Hey.....you." She responded self-consciously, as his large arms dwarfed her tiny frame. "Thanks for helping us out like this."

She returned the gesture by wrapping her arms around the broad expanse of his back, and patted it awkwardly. The hug felt alarmingly wrong.
He himself, felt wrong.

She took a step back, but that didn't dissuade Greg from leaning forwards, planting a kiss squarely on her lips.
It was -- as always -- lacking any depth of feeling, or passion. Something which Darcy had grown accustomed to. But as she absently wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, due to her boyfriend being an undeniably sloppy kisser, she guiltily found herself remembering how luxuriously perfect Loki's lips were.
Kissing was the best thing ever when you did it with someone who knew how to do it right.

And boy, did he know how to do it right.

She saw that Greg's gaze had come to rest on Loki, who had been watching the couples' reunion with unsettling interest.

"Oh, um...Greg this is my....partner." Darcy mumbled, hoping that he wouldn't notice her ferocious blushes.

He didn't.

"And does your partner have a name?" Greg asked, dryly. "Or is it a secret? Like everything else associated with S.H.I.E.L.D."

Loki continued to stare at him unwaveringly, one dark brow raised ever so slightly in silent contempt, as he regarded Darcy's boyfriend with cold, aristocratic indifference.

"Uh, yeah. This is Loki..." Darcy waved a hand in the general direction of Loki's person. "Loki...this is Greg."

"I'm Darcy's boyfriend." Greg added, apparently feeling the need to state the obvious, as he politely offered his hand for Loki to shake.

"Really? I would never have guessed." Loki took Greg's hand disdainfully, looking down his imperial nose at him.

Greg looked back at Loki, a puzzled expression on his face. "Loki...." He mused, clasping the trickster God's elegant hand unnecessarily tightly. "That's an unusual name, but it sounds familiar. And I recognise your face from somewhere."

"In all probability it would be from the News." Loki riposted, his tone clipped, as he reacted to Greg's rough handshake with a crushing grip of his own.

Darcy saw the pain visible on Greg's face, as he flinched and prised his hand away hastily. "The News? Wait....are you...are you Loki? As in, the brother of Thor?"

Loki perceptibly bristled, prompting Darcy to swoop in and intervene before things got out of hand. "Hadn't we'd better be going? The cab's stopped in a no-waiting zone."

She tried to shove Greg's large body toward the waiting car, whilst simultaneously gesturing for Loki to follow.
The driver got out and deposited Darcy's bags in the trunk, and Greg obediently got back into the front passenger seat, allowing Darcy and Loki to climb into the back of the vehicle.

Darcy noticed Greg look down at his hand, as if checking to see if it was still attached to his wrist, then he darted an anxious look at his new travelling companion.

The drive to the hotel was almost comically tense, with only Darcy talking, as she tried to make polite conversation, such as asking where the hotel was, and commenting on the chaotic traffic of central Paris, which even surpassed that of London.

Once they arrived at the hotel, Greg wasted no time in pulling Darcy aside in the foyer, leaving Loki hovering awkwardly by the reception desk.

"Darcy, what the hell is going on here? That's Loki!"

"Oh, is it?" She responded, keeping a watchful eye on the man in question, whilst also trying to focus on her boyfriend. "Thanks for pointing that out. I've been wondering who he is--"

"Don't be facetious, Darcy. You didn't tell me you were working with him! Why is he even here? Shouldn't he be in jail or back on his home planet?"

She sighed. "It's a long story. It's complicated. Work stuff--"

"Yeah? Well I'm getting a little tired of all your work 'stuff'." He blustered, haltingly, checking the time on his watch. "Damn it. I don't have time for this. I have a wedding to go to. I have to leave now but I'll be back after the ceremony and you'd better explain then."

Darcy frowned slightly, not caring much at all for his tone. Granted she could appreciate that it was a lot to take in, but that didn't warrant him speaking to her as if she were a naughty child. Making her feel belittled.

"Okay, I'll tell you what I can. But please don't talk to me like that."

He threw her a peevish look. "Really? You're lucky I'm even talking to you at all. You disappear off to London, then call me up out of the blue, expecting me to bail you out, then you show up with...with an alien. A criminal alien!" He took a deep breath, and thrust a key card into her hand. "There's the key to my room. Give my name at reception. I booked another room for your 'partner'. We'll continue this conversation later."

With that, he stormed away, leaving Darcy in the lobby clutching her bags. Feeling decidedly rattled.

"Is everything alright, Miss Lewis?" Loki's silky voice came from over her shoulder, and she turned and almost collided with him.

She had no idea how he'd slinked up behind her without so much as making a sound, but he was standing right next to her and she couldn't even think. He'd caught her completely off guard, and as she found herself facing his shirt-clad chest, she instinctively jerked backwards.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

In a daze, she collected the key card for Loki's room, declining the clerk's offer for a porter to assist with her bags. It was only then that she noticed the date on the calendar, which stared tauntingly up at her from the reception desk...

February 14th.

Of course.
Darcy remembered then, Greg having mentioned that his friend was getting married in Paris -- aptly dubbed the city of romance -- on Valentine's Day, of all days.

Gallantly, Loki insisted on taking the bags from her as they waited for the elevator.
It arrived empty and they stepped inside alone together, as no one else was waiting.
Standing side by side, Darcy stared blankly at the control-panel, watching as the light illuminated the numbered buttons, highlighting their ascent to the fourth floor.

"Are you in love with him?" Loki spoke suddenly, making her jump a little.

Her nerves were in tatters today.

"W-what?"

"You heard me well enough. Are you in love with him? Surely you can't be. Not with that philistine. Tell me, does he discuss his feelings and thoughts with you? How gripping that must be."

Darcy closed her eyes. In her already churned-up state, the smooth movement of the elevator still managed to make her stomach lurch slightly, as it came to a halt and the doors glided open.

"I....I'm not having this conversation with you. I haven't been with Greg all that long--"

"And what difference does that make?" He cut in sharply, as they walked down the carpeted hallway.

"It just does, okay? Feelings don't always fit into neat little packages that are easy to understand. Sometimes they develop over time. Love isn't a simple thing. So can you please stop with the interrogation and snarky remarks? Why are you so interested, anyway?" Her voice wavered dangerously with emotion, as she spotted Greg's room number, and fumbled with the key card.

"Call it morbid curiosity."

"Yeah? Well I call it being nosey!"

"Very well. I'm asking, because I don't believe that you love him." Loki said flatly. "And because you are worthy of so much more."

"Don't say that." She snapped, pushing the door open. "I'm trying to figure things out, if you must know. And you saying stuff like that, really isn't helping."

The truth was, she wanted more of this Loki.
Attentive, tender, caring Loki.
But she shouldn't want this from him.
She shouldn't want him at all.
He wasn't hers to want.

"I think your room is next door." She informed him, as he came in behind her and placed her bags down on the floor. "But technically I'm still on duty. So I suppose you'd better hang out here."

"You still don't trust me, Miss Lewis?" He gave her a baleful look, and she felt a pang of regret, for having snapped at him. "Tell me, what happens tonight? When I have to retire to my separate room? And you are here....with your boyfriend. What if I were to slip away then?"

Darcy swallowed. "You...you wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

"Well I'm hoping you wouldn't be such a jackass. You've got to get back to New York! Surely you're not going to jeopardise everything now? Not when we've come this far." Reaching up, she dragged her hands through her hair in frustration. "And now you've put that thought in my head, you've made me suspicious. Shit. How can I be sure I can trust you?"

"Relax, Miss Lewis. I'm merely toying with you." He said coolly, but his icy tone was decidedly at odds with his inflamed demeanour, as he absently began pacing around the room, seemingly too agitated to be still.

The room was quite large, and very bland. All white walls, carpet and bed linen, like all typically expensive hotels. There was a vanity table under the large window, and one of Greg's jackets hanging on the back of the chair.

"Well stop messing with me like that. It's not funny. And you're gonna give me motion sickness." Darcy smiled weakly, as she shrugged out of her duffel coat and tossed it carelessly onto the bed. "Or you'll wear the carpet out. Then Greg will be billed for the damages. Which will give him a seizure. Seriously, dude, can you sit down?"

"Can you refrain from calling me 'dude'?" He fired back, opting to ignore her request, as he paced around in ever-increasing wider circles.

"What is your problem?"

"My problem?" He raised a hand to his chest theatrically.

"Yeah. You obviously have one. We were okay when we got off the plane, now you're acting like somebody pissed in your Cheerios. I don't get it--"

"Do you not?" He came to a halt by the window, and half-turned to face her. "You want honesty from me, do you? To prove that I am capable of expressing emotions and disclosing my personal thoughts?"

Darcy nodded slowly, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. She had never seen him like this before, and she had absolutely no idea what to expect next.

"I didn't like him touching you." He admitted, his blue-green eyes glittering with barely-suppressed fury. "I don't want him touching you."

She gulped, swaying slightly on her feet, and suddenly her heartbeat felt as if it were fluttering at the base of her throat.

Loki was jealous. Of Greg. It was beyond unbelievable.

"W-why?" She heard herself asking, as she tried to process the enormity of his declaration. And now he had confessed, she could perceive the envy in his eyes. The seething, blatant resentment, was unmistakable, and it completely floored her.

"Why? Is it not obvious?" He growled, as if he couldn't understand why she was being so dense. "I want to be the only man who kisses you. Because admittedly, I am excessively fond of you, Miss Lewis. I like you a great deal in fact. As ridiculous as it is."

She felt the thrill run through her at his words. Even though the implication of him finding it so ridiculous, stung, it was still a massive compliment nonetheless. And probably the nearest she would ever come, to hearing him express his true feelings.

"Wow. I'm flattered, Loki. I really am. You know I really like you too. I've already told you like, a bunch of times now. Even when I said I just liked you as a friend, well....I wasn't being completely truthful." She lowered her eyes, shifting her weight from one foot to the other nervously, not knowing where they went from here.
If anywhere.

She knew it was impossible, but some selfish part of her just ached for him. She wanted to be more than just friends, even though the reality of it petrified her, and the very real possibility of him not feeling entirely the same way, or manipulating her for his own amusement, was bound to crush her.
She was deeply, horribly confused, and alarmed by all of her conflicting emotions.

"Well then?" He said after a contemplative pause. "You claim to like me, and I have expressed the reciprocation of your feelings."

"And.....?"

He drew closer, his proximity sucking all the air air out of the room, as well as her lungs.

"And....if I am able to provide you with the emotional intimacy you so desire, what further objection could you have against becoming involved with me?"

"Whoa! What? You mean.....me and you? Being together? As a couple?"

He nodded almost imperceptibly, and her heart began to race. Her mind was filling with wild possibilities. The very notion of what he was proposing, made her head swirl.

"But how would that work, Loki? You just said yourself, I'm a ridiculous human--"

"I never said that. I was referring to the circumstances. The fact that I find myself inexplicably attracted to a mortal, is ridiculous. And I do not intend any offence by that remark. I'm merely stating the facts, that becoming attached to a Midgardian goes against all of my principles, my standards, my upbringing--"

"Yeah because you're a God and I'm just a lowly, insignificant human being. A member of an inferior race."

"Surely you can make allowances for me? As I would, and do, for you. Try to understand that these beliefs have been instilled in me since childhood." He said this with such sincerity, it gave her pause, as he gazed imploringly at her in earnest. "But I have struggled in vain, trying to suppress the fondness I feel towards you."

"I guess I'm supposed to take that as a compliment then?"

"And so you should. Because I can no longer deny myself. I find you utterly charming in the most peculiar way. Your personality quirks are endearing. Your wit is entertaining. Your intelligence is intriguing. And your looks are beguiling."

She gaped openly at him, as his words circled around her racing brain, before they descended to her heart, where they tried to poke and prod at a place where Darcy never allow anything to go. An area that she'd sworn would be strictly off-limits to him.

It wasn't exactly a declaration of love, but it was the next best thing, coming from Loki.
Even as he spoke, she could see him struggling to vocalise his almost unwilling adoration.
But she had to play it cool.
This wasn't a marriage proposal.

"Well shit. I don't...wow. I don't know what to say."

So much for playing it cool.

"You're supposed to accept or decline my offer of entering into a relationship with me, Miss Lewis. Might I at least have your answer?"

Darcy clasped a hand to her mouth, as if in shock. In fact, she believed she was in shock, convinced she was dangerously close to fainting, and might be in need of smelling salts very soon. This dramatic bombshell had shaken her to the very core.

"You make it sound like a contract or something." She wheezed, a little breathlessly, her voice coming out muffled through her fingers.

"And is that problematic?"

She laughed nervously. "Well it doesn't exactly sound very romantic."

"I see. Well the situation may be lacking romance somewhat, but that can easily be remedied. And I can give you passion. As you well know."

He closed the distance between them in two strides, and the next thing she knew his hands had found her hips and were sliding around her waist, making her gasp and grab his forearms in a feeble attempt to stop him.

"Wait, wait! I haven't broken up with Greg yet, and I need to before we--"

Sensing she was about to dampen the mood with objections, Loki paid no attention to her. "Miss Lewis, do shut up and kiss me." He said wickedly, eyes creasing with amusement as he tugged her closer, pressing his body flush against hers.

She let out a little squeak of surprise. "L-Loki..."

His name barely made it passed her throat, as suddenly he was kissing her fiercely, desperately, passionately. She squirmed against him, and even though she made a half-hearted attempt to push him off, it felt so damned good. She could feel herself melting into him, turning soft as butter.

The kiss was soul-deep and sizzling with passion. Rendering her completely awestruck and incapable of rational thought. His wonderful mouth made her temporarily forget who he was. Who she was. And just like that, an entire ocean of complications, and what ifs, seemed to evaporate in the heat of their desire.

Her hands slid inside his jacket, and she could feel the warmth of his body through the thin material of his shirt. His sinewy muscles reacted instantaneously, moving and jumping beneath her touch.

Yikes, he was so damn sexy.
But now was not the time to get swept-up by his seductive charms.
She had to concentrate. To focus. To think clearly.

She needed to trust Loki, without worrying about all the possible disastrous outcomes.
Even though what little logic she had, screamed it was impossible, her mind told her it was seriously risky, and her instincts advised her to be cautious....her heart, her traitorous heart kept on whispering to take a chance.

"I haven't actually agreed to your proposition yet." She pointed out, breathily, as they broke for air.

"Oh dear. Have you not?"

"No. Because....well, there'd need to be some basic ground rules--"

"Ground rules? How awfully tedious you're making this sound, earth girl."

"Hey, you've got to take this seriously, space boy!" She poked him affectionately in the chest. "For instance, I need to know that you'll respect me. And treat me as an equal. Can you do that?"

"Naturally." He sighed with exasperation. "I do respect you, Miss Lewis."

"Really? Then why are you ogling my boobs again when I'm trying to talk to you?"

He hastily looked up at her through his dark lashes. "My apologies. But if it's any consolation, I was dividing my attention equally between both. Treating them with equality."

"You're not funny, you pervert!" She cried, desperately wanting to laugh but not allowing herself to. "I'm trying to talk to you seriously. So listen."

"I'm listening." His eyes remained focused solely on her face, but his hands glided up her sides and he took her breasts in a slow, sensuous grip, growling low in his throat at the sensation.

Darcy had to fight to suppress a whimper as his intimate touch seemed to burn right through her clothing, making it difficult for her to remember her own name, let alone what she was saying.
But she couldn't and wouldn't succumb to his amorous advances, not until she had officially ended things with Greg.

"Okay, knock it off now, buster!"

She grasped his hands in hers and held them by his sides for a moment. Not releasing them until she thought it was safe to let go. No sooner had she done so, and he was reaching for her again, so she swatted his wandering hands away, and then punched him playfully in the shoulder.

"Pay attention!" She said with mock-annoyance, knowing that her small punches were incapable of hurting him.

He laughed, his solid torso not budging an inch as she administered another blow to the opposite shoulder. His laughter increased and as she made to repeat the actions again, this time he caught hold of her wrists, laughing so hard now he could barely speak.

"Alright, alright. I yield!"

"Good. That's what I like to hear. As boyfriends go, you're a quick learner."

"Aah, boyfriend. So is that a 'yes' then? Seeing how you've bestowed the formal title on me."

"It's a maybe."

"That will suffice." He swooped down and kissed her again, this time slowly and sensually. She moaned softly, and felt him smile against her lips.

"I adore you. You know that, right?" She confessed with a heartfelt sigh, lacing her arms around his slim waist.

"Is that so? Well, in that case can I rest assured that you will terminate your relationship with that odious man? Or must I challenge him to a dual at dawn?"

"As fun as that would be to watch, I think it would be kinder if I broke it to him gently. Don't worry. I'll tell him. But....." She faltered, an ominous feeling of impending dread gathering in the pit of her stomach.

"But what?"

"Well, today is Valentine's Day, so I can't exactly dump him today can I? I can't be that brutal."

Loki's expression hardened, and his embrace tightened around her possessively. "Given that Saint Valentine was publicly stoned and then brutally beheaded, I would consider it rather befitting to inflict pain on him. In fact, I would be more than happy for him to meet a similar fate, to commemorate the occasion."

"Uh, no. I'll take care of it." She said hurriedly, hoping that his threat of violence wasn't serious. "I don't think I need that on my conscience. Knowing my new boyfriend was responsible for the death of my old one, might keep me awake at night"

"Mm. Then your new boyfriend would have to find an appropriate way of tiring you out, in order to resolve the problem, wouldn't he?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and she felt her insides cramp with lust.

"You have no idea how pleasurably distracting that would be--"

"Oh, I think I do."

"But I'm trying to be serious here."

"I know you are."

"I mean it, this is a serious conversation."

"I know it is."

"Then take it seriously, or I'll have to kick your ass!"

Loki bit back a smile, attempting to look serious but he was struggling to contain his amusement, which made Darcy herself grin like a smitten idiot.

"Look, I will speak to Greg, I promise. But you might have to be patient. Please? Do you think you can do that? For me?"

He gave a low chuckle, and her heart lifted, seeing his eyes practically gleam with happiness.

"For you, Darcy.....I will have the patience of a 'saint'."

She groaned at the lameness of his joke, but giggled regardless. "I wish I didn't adore you so much." She admitted helplessly, as she gazed up at his irritatingly smug face.

He knew he had her. She could tell he knew. Considering satisfaction wasn't in his nature, he certainly looked satisfied. The arrogant, adorable jerk.
But his eyes were brazen and alive with affection. A blossoming sort of tenderness that even he appeared to find disconcerting, and quite unexpected.

"Just....don't hurt me, okay?" She sighed, realising immediately that it was a stupid thing to say, because it was practically inevitable that he would.
Even unintentionally. It came with the territory.

And Loki must've known too, because he didn't bother to answer. Instead he stroked her hair softly, as she rested her head against his chest, and despite knowing that she was probably setting herself up for disappointment in the not-so-distant future, Darcy allowed herself to dream a little.

This was one of those utterly perfect, few and far between moments in life that you had to draw into your lungs and hold there. Absorbing every drop of it, because that was what life was all about.