Greg was not the sort of guy who liked surprises.
Nor was he the sort of guy who liked being woken up. Darcy already knew that much about him, but now she was discovering he wasn't the sort of guy who liked being asked to loan money either, especially to his rambling, slightly-hysterical girlfriend.

He was far from impressed, and deeply confused. Which was, to be fair, understandable. Though she had hoped that due to him being so financially well-off (he was the sole heir to his industrious fathers' company) and her being the damsel in distress and all, that he wouldn't object too much.

The biggest problem was, she had absolutely no idea what to say to him. All she knew was that it couldn't be the truth, as that would be ironically most unbelievable, so in the end she settled on fabricating a vague story about herself and a co-worker having been sent on a top secret mission, which had regrettably resulted in them being stranded in London.

"You never told me you were going to London!" He complained, his deep voice gruff from sleep "How did you even get there so quickly?"

"It was um, kind of unexpected. And not planned. I got...dragged along....at the last minute. I would've called to let you know but....well I was sworn to secrecy." She babbled.

"I don't understand how you could be left stranded? It makes no sense. Surely an organisation like S.H.I.E.L.D have back-up strategies in place to cover any eventuality--"

"Well you would think so. But....not this time. And trust me, I'll be filing a complaint as soon as we get back. But first I have to actually get back. That's my main priority, and Greg, I really really need your help with this."

"They better reimburse the costs I'll incur."

"They will. Without a doubt." Darcy lied out of sheer desperation. "Just, please Greg. If you could transfer the money into my account so me and my...uh, partner, can get out of here, that would be amazing. You'd be like, my hero."

"Who is this partner anyway?" His voice was now laced with suspicion. "You never mentioned having a partner before."

"I didn't because...it's a secret. "

"Why don't they pay for the flight home?"

Darcy instinctively tugged on her hair in sheer frustration, until it was askew. "Because he's broke too. He's uh, from abroad. Technically, a bit of an illegal alien, so he's not got a bank account."

- Silence -

"Greg? You still there?"

"You're with a guy?"

Wow. That was unexpected.
Was he jealous? Surely not. Darcy would never have had him down as being the jealous type.

"Yeah. And?"

"And he's an illegal alien? Why's he employed by S.H.I.E.L.D?"

Darcy was then temporarily distracted by a loitering Loki, who was seemingly hovering around the bedroom door, his impatience having gotten the better of him.
His lingering presence threw her concentration off. She'd purposely gone into the bedroom to make the call in private. This was defeating the object.

"Is he going to help or not?" He whispered through the gap in the door. "Surely it's a simple enough decision to make. It's either yes, or no. If he loves you and cares for your well being, then he won't refuse--"

"Can you please go away!" She hissed, covering the mouthpiece with her hand, and shutting the door on him with the other.

Ugh.
Why did Loki have to be such a douche? Simplifying it in such a way. Implying that if Greg didn't help, then it obviously must mean he didn't care.
And why did Greg have to be an even bigger douche? Overcomplicating it, when he could easily afford the flights, and she liked to think he trusted her enough to know that she'd pay him back.

The call lasted well over half an hour, and by the time she left the bedroom Loki was pacing around the room, grumbling to himself, his agitation growing with every step. He looked tired, anxious, and perceptibly irritated.

"I thought you were fixing the boiler." She pointed out -- after all, that's what he had been doing when she'd gone to make the call.

He stopped abruptly and turned to scowl at her. "I can't. It's beyond repair without the proper tools. And need I remind you that I am not an electrical engineer, Miss Lewis?"

"Okay. No need to get all pissy about it--"

"Don't change the subject, woman. Is your beloved going to help or not?"

Darcy squirmed slightly. He was staring at her in an almost accusatory way, and she just knew he'd probably been listening-in on most of her conversation.

"Yes, he's going to pay for two tickets....but....." She drew in a breath, preparing herself for his overreaction. "....first you gotta promise me you won't get mad?"

A muscle flexed violently in his tensing jaw. "I'm making no such promise."

"Great. You're already mad!"

"I am not mad. Yet."

"Yeah? Well tell that to your angry eyebrows."

"Miss Lewis, I am going to give you precisely to the count of three.....ONE..."

"Really? You're doing the whole counting thing? What are we kindergarteners--?"

"....TWO..."

"Alright alright....geez! He is getting us the tickets......but to Paris."

He remained quiet for what seemed like an age, and she watched his face gradually darken until his expression was so black, she half expected him to pull his daggers out of thin air and slice her into shredded duck.

"Paris." He stated eventually, in an eerily calm voice. "Not New York?"

She nodded meekly, sensing this was like the calm before the storm.

Loki's anger was the still kind. She could sense the indignant rage bubbling beneath the surface, and it was this sort of anger that she found most unsettling.
She'd have much preferred for him to punch a wall, or throw a cup, or something. Anything other than glare at her with eyes like two glowing coals, his expression cold and haughty.

"Y-yeah. He wants to meet us in Paris. He's going to a wedding there and--"

"I already know and I don't care." He snarled, his top lip curing slightly like a savage  dog. "Why is he insisting that we go there? We don't have time to be gallivanting around Europe. My illusion of myself won't last forever, and in another day or two you'll be expected back in work!"

"Don't you think I know that?"  She threw her hands up, displaying her own exasperation. "But we're lucky he's helping us at all."

"He clearly doesn't trust you." He threw at her, callously. "If he did, he would loan you the money to pay for the tickets to New York. Not stipulate we meet him in France!"

Feeling suddenly very defensive, she matched his glower with a defiant glare of her own. "He does trust me! He knows I wouldn't rip him off!"

Loki snorted rudely. "His terms suggest otherwise. Don't you understand, Miss Lewis? He won't give you the money because he has doubts about what you'll do with it. Instead, he's going to purchase the tickets himself once we join him in Paris. That way he'll know for certain you're not going to use his money for something else."

Darcy was now inches away from losing her temper, which was never pretty.
Stomping passed him, she made her way into the kitchen area to make a coffee. Although something stronger would've been preferable.
"That's just your suspicious mind. You would think the worst of him, because you're a scheming, back-stabbing, paranoid, trickster God."

"Ooh, it burns you to learn that you don't have your boyfriend's trust." He jeered, mockingly, his features twisting into a pitying sneer.

"Well, he's bound to be a tiny bit suspicious. He's not a dumb ass. I've just had to lie through my teeth to him. You'd have done a better job, but I'm sorry I'm not as well practised as you when it comes to selling people bullshit."

"You can vent your frustrations at me all you like, Miss Lewis. That still doesn't alter the fact that your boyfriend is questioning your trustworthiness. And he's placing monetary value on your relationship."

"Look, you're the one venting frustrations, buster! This is you throwing a hissy-fit just because you're not getting all your own way." Flicking the switch on the kettle, she slammed her empty cup down on the counter unnecessarily hard, spilling coffee granules all over in the process.

"Returning to the tower as soon as possible, is my main concern. We can't afford to waste time. Is that so difficult for you to comprehend?" He was behind her now, and she could practically feel him radiating anger.

"Of course it isn't! I'm not stupid. And we will get back there. We're just taking a slight detour that's all. Or I could always call Jane or Tony if you'd prefer--"

"Don't. You. Dare."

"Right, then shut up! We're going to Paris first, and you're just gonna have to suck it up buttercup."  The water in the kettle began to boil, and as it rattled away and the steam poured out in plumes, it rather put Darcy in mind of how she was feeling right now. "You should learn to be a bit more patient, and grateful."

"Grateful?" He scoffed. "What exactly am I supposed to be grateful for?"

"Oh my God! You know, you're in for a hell of a landing when you eventually fall off that high horse of yours. You'd better tuck and roll, space boy."

"My high horse? What gives you the right to sit in judgment of me? You, who belong to an inferior race--"

"That is so fucking racist! You have like.....the biggest superiority complex, ever! Well, I'm done discussing this. I'm cancelling my subscription to your issues."

"Do not attempt to psychoanalyse me, Miss Lewis. This is not about me. This all stems from you simply not liking what I have said about your precious boyfriend. Well, the truth hurts."

"You're being such an enormous jerk right now. Can you even hear yourself?" Whirling around to face him, she affixed him with the most withering stare she could muster.
A lesser man would've wilted. Would have been reduced to a crumbling pillar of salt.
But not Loki.
He of course, wasn't most men.

"All I hear is a woman in denial. You defend him so vehemently. Why? He is no hero. You Midgardians are absurdly sentimental."

"Okay, stop! I don't know why you're trying to mess with my head and make me doubt that Greg cares about me, but knock it off! You, you don't know anything! You don't even know the value of earth-money. You have no frickin' idea what a big ask it is, expecting him to loan me that kind of money."

"If he truly loved you, it wouldn't be such a big ask." There was a visible cruelness in the lines around his mouth, the tightness of his jaw and the narrowing of his icy-eyes. "Love is supposed to be unconditional, is it not? That much I do know."

Darcy wasn't sure why she felt so rattled by his words. After all, she hadn't even been with Greg long enough to seriously think about love.
But something about Loki's observations really stuck in her craw, and a rogue neurone must have snapped in the back of her brain, because 'zoom' went her temper....

"Yeah? And what would you know about love?" She snapped in retaliation.  Then immediately regretted it, as it dawned on her that she'd said absolutely the wrong thing.
But it was out there now, and she couldn't take it back.

Before she could even gather her thoughts, his large hands were suddenly grasping her roughly by the arms in a vice-like grip.

Oh shit.
She couldn't even reach the controller in her pocket, because her arms were pinned by her sides. But he wouldn't hurt her would he?
Her heart palpitated wildly beneath her breast as he pulled her small body right up against his tall one, emphasising their height difference. There was nothing gentle about the way he was holding her and it was undoubtedly threatening, though not necessarily painful.

She wasn't afraid of him. She was certain he would not hurt her. She'd just....hit a raw nerve.

"Do not presume that you know me, you silly, ignorant girl!" He brought his face closer, so close she could feel his cool breath against her cheek and pick out the intense blue filaments in his pale green irises. "You may have heard my story, but you know nothing of what I've been through. I am well aware that I'm a difficult man to love!"

His expression was quite at odds with his fierce tone, which in itself was enough to make her regret her words sorely. His face was no longer a mask of rage. He looked unbearably, heartbreakingly sad. And Darcy had to turn her face away, because she couldn't bear to see the frantic, wounded look in his eyes.

"I'm...so sorry....Really. I didn't even mean that." She wheezed, feeling all the air whoosh right out of her lungs. "I swear I meant nothing by it."

All at once, he hastily relinquished his hold on her, and turned away. His actions seemed to suggest that he was embarrassed by allowing himself to lose his composure. To speak so openly about matters which were deeply personal.

The maddening urge to reach out and place a calming hand on his shoulder, was incredibly tempting. The need to reassure him, to somehow comfort him, seemed like the most natural response in the world right now to her.
But she daren't.
She didn't dare breach that physical barrier when he had shown such vulnerability.
Loki was proud, and vain, and he'd no doubt resent her if she attempted to comfort him, and to accept, would be showing weakness.

The silence in the room grew deafening, as he stood perfectly still, and talking to his back proved to be no easier than talking to his face...

"I....I actually kind of get it, I think. I'm not exactly the easiest person to love either." She said in a small voice.

No longer able to resist the nagging need, she reached out to gently touch his arm, and he immediately stiffened. Every muscle in his body seemed to go rigid as a result of the physical contact.

She couldn't believe this situation had escalated so quickly. The argument had spiralled out of control, and she needed to fix it. So she persisted. Even though she didn't even know what she was saying anymore...

"I get told I'm lovable sometimes. Usually by friends who are mostly doing drugs. But my point is, I'm not the kind of girl people take seriously....ever. And it's like, I'm so ditzy and easy-going, they forget that I have feelings...." Her words dissolved, as he looked at her over his shoulder, his one visible eye narrowed.
Darcy's hand fell away nervously, and deciding that perhaps it was best to not pursue the conversation, she turned her attentions back to making coffee.

But her hands were now trembling slightly, and she felt decidedly churned up. So as she lifted the kettle to pour, she accidentally spilt some of the boiling water, scalding her hand.

"Ouch! Ow!" She winced, practically dropping the kettle back down. "Fuck! That hurt!"

To her amazement, Loki was suddenly there, having dashed over to survey the damage. "Come here, let me see."

Taking hold of her wrist gently, he inspected her injury, then guided her over to the sink. Darcy watched as he turned on the cold water tap, and allowed him to stick her hand under the faucet.

She pulled a face, as the water stung slightly. "You see, this is why Americans don't use electric kettles. It doesn't end well. And we don't even need them because we're not obsessed with tea!"

"It's only a minor burn, but they are deceptively painful." He said soothingly, his voice low.

"Yeah, no shit."

"Do you want me to dress it for you? It should eliminate most of the discomfort." He offered helpfully, brushing his thumb along her palm. "You Midgardians are also astonishingly fragile."

He said this kindly, with the hint of a smile on his lips. Darcy smiled back, relieved that they were now back on speaking terms at least. " I'm good. Really. But thanks anyway. It's not exactly fatal." She said, putting on a brave face.
Yes it hurt like a bitch, but it wasn't life threatening. She couldn't have him thinking she was a wuss.

He continued to hold her hand under the water tentatively, but the burning sensation was no longer at the forefront of her mind.
She could feel the slight roughness of his skin against hers. His hands -- just like the rest of him -- were elegant, and slim. But they were also so certain, and strong. And suddenly she found herself liking the feel of them as well as the look of them.

"I am a complete klutz." She said breezily, for want of something better to say.

"But a lovable one nonetheless, Miss Lewis. And I, unlike your friends, am not under the influence of drugs." He sounded so convincingly sincere, that to her alarm, she felt her stomach do a little flip.
Moving her hand from the faucet, he turned off the tap and reached for a kitchen towel. "Better now?"

"Ah ha." Was all she could manage, as he tenderly dabbed at the wound, drying it for her carefully.

A loaded silence ensued, and her skin prickled with an unsettling excitement as he unexpectedly laced his long fingers through hers. She stared at their entwined hands for a moment, then her eyes darted back to his face.

"I should not have called you silly and ignorant." He admitted, his eyes latching onto hers. "And I did not mean to startle you by man-handling you in such a way."

"It's uh, it's okay." She mumbled, lowering her eyes. He still had her hand in his, and annoyingly she felt heat rising up her neck, winding it's way to her face. "I shouldn't have said what I said either. I didn't think."

"Please. Least said, soonest mended."

She raised her eyes to his again. He was still surveying her closely through his dark lashes. She swallowed hard. "So, we're.....friends again?"

Another shared look, which if she wasn't mistaken, lasted long enough to be considered a 'moment'

Oh God.

"Yes, Miss Lewis.....friends."

"Good." She breathed, struggling to pull her focus away from his mesmerising eyes. "I don't want us to fight. And d'you know Loki, I think...."

"Yes?" He prompted, as she lost her nerve and words failed her.

"Um....you just need a hug." She forced a nervous laugh. Because Darcy was well practised in the art of killing moments. And this particular moment -- if indeed it was one -- needed to be killed.

Killed.
Buried.
And forgotten.
They shouldn't be having moments. It was all too weird.

Without any more deliberation or hesitation, she could no longer refrain from leaning in to give him a quick hug. So she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.

To her relief, he didn't protest. Instead he slipped his arms around her gingerly, reluctantly returning the gesture. At first he was perceptibly tense, but then she felt his body relax, and then he was holding her, properly.
But this wasn't like the way he had held her protectively when they'd been sucked into the portal.
This was.....different.

Damn.
He was a surprisingly good hugger.

She had intended to hug him, in the hopes of dispersing the odd, simmering tension.
And more importantly, to show him that he was worthy of affection and kindness. To let him feel a connection, because it was becoming increasingly apparent that basic interaction -- to be shown compassion, and friendship, and love -- was a major factor that he was undoubtedly lacking in his life.

And his response was reassuring. He hadn't pushed her away.
And she didn't want him to. Even for her own selfish reasons, because it felt good to be held like this, with such certainty and need.
Even by him, of all people.

The sensation of his strong arms enfolding Darcy tightly, felt scarily right.
He felt so 'right'.

As they stood, arms encircling each other tightly, she felt her heart racing, blood rushing to her face, and she was only glad that Loki couldn't actually see it.
Instinctively her eyes closed, as he buried his face in her hair. And she could feel herself melting into him, as if their bodies were somehow fusing together.

Her face was comfortably tucked into the space between his neck and his shoulder.
Where the smell of him -- all leather, fresh soap, spicy zing of aftershave and something else, a smell that was all Loki -- was at it's most intoxicating. His clean skin smelled like something more intrinsic, like...dew. As if he actually bathed in the fresh morning dew.

Her senses seemed to all come alive at once, so now every scent, and touch became heightened. The hug she'd instigated innocently, now felt overwhelmingly intimate, as she grew painfully aware of the sturdiness of his chest beneath his black shirt, the lean muscles of his thighs, as they pressed against hers.
And then, most worryingly of all....waves of attraction -- unwanted, maddeningly obvious, attraction -- thudded along her arms, down through her stomach via her chest, where it lit a fire in her belly, and went straight into her pants.

Holy, holy shit.

This was bad.
Like, real bad.

As much as Darcy didn't want the hug to end, it had to.
The weird and grossly inappropriate feelings he was inadvertently evoking in her, forced her to hastily break the embrace.

"O-okaaaay then. See, don't you feel better now? A hug can fix everything."

A quote suddenly sprang to her mind, that she recalled having seen on Facebook. It was something along the lines of; 'Someday someone is going to hug you so tight, that all your broken pieces stick back together.'

He smiled at her, and for the first time since they had met, it wasn't a grin or smirk. It wasn't a smile of mockery or laughter. It was a genuine, breathtaking smile that reached all the way up to his eyes.

"If only that were true, Miss Lewis."

She shrugged, trying to ignore the irrational quickening of her traitorous heart. "Well, at least we've....hugged and made-up."

"Indeed. Although, I thought the phrase was to 'kiss' and make-up."

Darcy's eyes proved to be just as traitorous, as they immediately darted to his face, and she felt her stomach lurch as her gaze landed  on his lips. "Y-yeah well. That isn't gonna happen." She said airily, poking him in the chest with her finger.

Oh God, she had absolutely no idea where the inappropriate thoughts were coming from, but it disturbed her to find herself wondering what it would be like to kiss Loki, and she had to cling onto the kitchen counter for support.

She tried to push the thoughts aside, but they stubbornly refused to budge, as if she had no control over them at all. Instead they kept returning to his lips and what his kisses would be like.
Would they be firm and powerful, not wet and weak? Not the kind where you'd have to wipe your mouth afterwards with the back of your hand.
She firmly told herself to get a grip. She shouldn't be wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

She willed her legs into moving so she could beat a hasty retreat back into the living area. "You'd better not be flirting with me again, space boy."

Loki chuckled softly, as he began idly searching the kitchen cupboards in search of anything edible. "As if I'd do such a thing, earth girl."

"What are you doing in there? There's nothing in their to eat. Unless dry cereal or stale biscuits is your thing."

He gave her a repulsed look and shook his head. "This won't do. I need sustenance."

In the next instant he was striding for the door, which was enough to make Darcy jump to her feet in pursuit. Because it hadn't completely escaped her memory, that amidst all the jumbled mess of thoughts, she was still supposed to be God-sitting. And if he went out alone, he may well not return.
How she would explain that, she didn't know.

"Where are you going?"

"Hunting." He replied dryly.

Her eyes widened. "What?"

He groaned like he was in pain. "I'm going to buy some food of course. I presume you'll be accompanying me? As you still don't trust me."

"Actually, you need me to come with you because I'm the one with the cash. But we'll have to find a place that will take my card, or exchanges currency--"

"Let me just stop you there, Miss Lewis." He interjected smoothly, as they made their way out into the cold, late evening air. "It's getting late, I'm hungry, I'm exhausted, and very very cranky."

She snorted, not able to suppress a laugh. "So what else is new? You're always cranky."

Ignoring her, his long legs enabled him to descend the steps at superhuman speed. "What I'm saying is, I'm not wasting time with such trivial nonsense. Just leave it to me."

Intrigued, she hurried after him, and they made their way back onto the main street where the shops and restaurants were.
The smell of spices, of food being cooked, wafted along the street, making her mouth water, and the warm glow of the soft lighting was deliciously enticing from the darkened street.

A short conversation ensued, which unsurprisingly ended in Loki taking charge, so that they ended up in a small corner shop where they filled a shopping basket with provisions such as milk, coffee, bread, sugar, biscuits, butter, soap and shampoo....even a bottle of red wine. Which wasn't a necessity, and she could've argue that point, but after the day they had had, Darcy decided they were both entitled to it. 

When she protested, growing increasingly concerned about how Loki intended to pay, he responded by taking a handful of her dollars, and casting an illusion to make them appear as British pounds.

She was impressed and mortified in equal measures. And as they paid and hurried out, she couldn't help feeling incredibly guilty for having deceived the shop owner.

"The illusion won't last long at all." He explained to her, as they made their way back along the street. "I must limit the number of illusions I cast, as it's imperative not to jeopardise the double of myself back at the tower. It takes enormous effort, and a huge amount of energy to keep them in place."

"I feel awful, tricking people like this." She told him, after they'd made a stop at a Delicatessen, and then called in at a Patisserie.

Loki's response was unsurprisingly indifferent, and he wasn't at all perturbed by their deception. "Beggars can't afford to be choosers. Isn't that what you said? One has to adapt and do whatever is necessary in order to survive."

There was no question that they would survive. Tomorrow they would be on a flight to Paris, and in the meantime Loki had bought bags upon bags filled with cooked meats, cheeses, bagels, cakes and pies.
It was enough to feed a small banquet, but as he was practically salivating as he had eyed what was on offer, Darcy was morbidly curious to see if he was actually capable of eating it all before they had to leave.

Once back in the apartment, Darcy switched the small table lamps on, and lit some incense that she found on the bookshelves, thus creating a sort of abstract, cozy, ambiance. Though Loki complained the incense smelled like Opium, to which she pointed out that it was better than smelling the damp, mustiness that hung in the air.

Arranging a vast amount of the food on the small coffee table, they sat companionably on the sofa, the comforting babble of the television providing background noise as they ate.

"This must be so weird for you." Darcy commented, once they were both stuffed to the point of bursting. "I mean, it's weird for me, but it's not exactly a palace is it? Or even five star accommodation."

Loki had now slipped out of his suit jacket, loosened his tie and opened the three top buttons on his shirt. He looked casually rumpled, and amazingly relaxed as he sipped his wine.

"I've stayed in worse places." Raising a hand to stifle a yawn, he sank further back into the cushions. "It is surprisingly comfortable actually. Undomesticated bliss."

Smiling at his remark, she shrugged out of her coat. Finally feeling warm enough to part with it. But the snugness of the living area was provided by the roaring fire, and the rest of the apartment was stony cold. Including the bedroom.
The only bedroom.
She hadn't really thought about that until now.

"Perhaps we ought to retire, Miss Lewis." He said suddenly, at the precise moment she was contemplating how they could work around the issue of only having the one bed.
And he must have read her mind, or her expression, as he added. "Don't fret. I'm willing to be chivalrous and sleep on the couch. The bed is all yours."

Darcy blinked, as he shifted his body around on the sofa to make himself more comfortable.

"Okay then, I guess I'll see you in the morning." She said, hurriedly standing to afford him more space.

"I guess you will. Goodnight Miss Lewis." He held her gaze for the longest time, and the effect was disturbing.

His deep staring sent a wave of warmth through her body, where it gathered deep down in the pit of her belly. She coughed nervously, forcing herself to break eye-contact.

"Ahem. G'night then."

She locked herself into the bedroom, and leaned back against the door, and held her breath. For some reason she was filled with nervous energy, and she almost fell over at one point, when she made her way over to the bed, bumping her head against the wardrobe door.
It was then she felt the iciness of the sheets, which were so cold they actually felt damp.
Shivering at the prospect of climbing into a freezing cold bed, Darcy headed back to the living room, already missing the warmth of the fire.

Loki's long body was now sprawled casually on the couch, his long legs negligently thrown over the arm.

"Are you asleep?" She asked, which was a pretty dumb question when she thought about it.

He pulled himself up on his elbows, and turned to look at her. "No I'm not, as you can plainly see. This couch isn't exactly spacious enough for me."

"You shouldn't be so tall."

"I'll bear that in mind."

"It's freezing in that room." She told him.

"Then perhaps you would benefit more from sleeping on the couch. If you have no objections? And I shall brave the frozen climes of the bedchamber."

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

He quirked an eyebrow in amusement. "My genetics prevent me from feeling the cold, so I'm not affected by low temperatures."

"Wow. That's actually really cool....no pun intended. You're like, Elsa from Frozen!" She beamed, her broad smile lighting up her face.

His dark brows drew together in confusion. "Who?"

"It doesn't matter. Maybe we'll watch it one day. Hey, are you any good at building snowmen?"

"I can hardly wait." He replied sardonically, not dignifying her question with a response.

"Oh, shush! It's a fun movie. You should totally be able to relate to that character. You're like the male version. Actually, you'd make an awesome Disney Prince now I think about it. You're even quite chivalrous when you want to be."

Standing up, he smiled at her coyly. " A Disney Prince? I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. Should I be flattered?"

"Yeah you totally should be." She enthused, picking up her wine glass again to finish the drink she'd discarded.

"But wouldn't I be more suitable as a villain?"

His question made her hesitate, and she had to consider it carefully before answering. "No. You're more like a misunderstood anti-hero. But still a Prince. Obviously."

He shook his head, as he leaned idly against the bedroom doorframe, arms folded. "Villains don't save the day. Don't fly off happily into the sunset, and they never win the affections of the girl. So I think you'll find I fit into that stereotype quite nicely."

Feeling a rush of sadness for him, Darcy said to his retreating back. "No you don't. You just think you do."

He stilled, them slowly turned to look at her. "Care to prove your theory?"

"How? It depends on what I gotta do."

"You could spend the night with me, Miss Lewis."

Darcy spluttered, choking on her wine and almost spitting it out at him in shock.

"You need not be so panic-stricken. I don't intend to try and tempt you. And I don't suspect you have designs on me--"

"Of course I don't! I wasn't thinking anything like that." She lied through her teeth.

"Well then? You would be more comfortable at least. And my body temperature will keep you warm."

She swallowed hard. The thought of having him wrapped around her was enough to make her feel lightheaded. But she had to be sensible about this and stay on her guard. His charm was lethal.

"Um, thanks but no thanks. I don't think it's a good idea. They don't call you a trickster for nothing. And it wouldn't be very professional of me either. I'm still on duty."

"I promise I won't seduce you." He cocked his head and gave her a stoic look, which suggested seduction was the very last thing on his mind. Which it probably was, given how tired he was. And then the stoic look became more wolfish. "Unless....you want me to that is?"

"Uh, no. Of course I don't!" She managed to hit a feigned indignant top note, one that any Oscar-winning actress would be proud of. Even though other feelings now overwhelmed her, and made her stomach clench in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant. "If you seduce me in a dream, space boy, you'd better wake up and apologise." She laughed breezily, as if the idea of her wanting him to seduce her was the craziest, most hilarious thing in the world.

"Which is precisely why I would never even attempt to." He didn't even bother to hide his smirk, which doused her ardour more effectively than if he'd thrown a glass of cold water in her face.

Aaaagh!

They bid each other good night, and he disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Leaving Darcy alone with her disturbing, unwanted thoughts.

She was losing her mind.
She was losing her grip.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the inappropriate thoughts. They had no business being there. He had no business being in her mind. He'd moved in uninvited, and was now running through it -- naked --

Well nope.
It was time for eviction. She had to nip this silliness in the bud right away before it got out of hand. Even if he wasn't shady, and potentially dangerous, and an alien, it still needed to stop.

The fact that he was all of those things, meant it really REALLY needed to stop.