Chapter Text
He was staring at her. He had been staring at her all morning.
The once beloved Asgardian prince turned evil alien takeover dickhead turned sarcastic grumpy and only slightly repentant jerk under the care and watchfulness of Thor sat across the lab, intent to ignore all of Jane’s science questions to focus on little ol’ Darcy Lewis. The woman of his fixed gaze was typing data into a computer program nervously. She would take small breaks to twist her hair around a finger or clutch her navy cardigan closer to her body while reading the symbols and numbers written before her in Jane’s script.
Sure she wanted to seem cool and collected rather than fidgety but her hands didn’t seem like they wanted to cooperate. In just the few hours the god of mischief had been Edward Cullen-ing her she’d reapplied her lipstick, doodled a version of the Avengers as cats, surfed tumblr for way longer than necessary, sent an email or five to some college buddies she hadn’t spoken to in months, and gotten most of her work done for the rest of the day. She tried not to think about her earlier conversation with the high and mighty Loki of Asgard.
Darcy had her soulmarks since the day she was born, signifying her soulmate was already somewhere out there in the big wide world and her words on him appeared on her birthday in 1989. They were written as clear as day under his right shoulder blade and noticed by his brother during a clear swimming day in a large spring long after both men had reached adulthood. But Darcy’s words were a jumbled mess upon birth, not even legible until she’d had her growth spurt at 14 and her skin had finally settled after stretching from growth.
Before she’d ever met him she knew her soulmate was not an average Joe and not nice in a Tom Hanks kind of way. Insults for soulmarks happened a lot more often than not but she’d seen such a range of marks in her short life that by the time she’d got to college she didn’t think much about the harshness of the adjectives twisting across her left ankle in three long circles, shrugging off her future relationship as some kind of Mr. Darcy-type character. There was one thing she found really strange about her mark and was unable to let go, leading to many teenage nights spent studying the concepts behind the mysterious appearing of text on nearly every person on the planet.
Everyone who passed Darcy’s path got asked to show her their marks which ranged from the tame (Hi. Nice to meet you.), to the romantic (I’ve been waiting for you for years and you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.), to the strange and downright weird (Please can you pull this thing out of my ass?). What she had never seen though were letters like hers, the color of hers to be more exact. Green and swirling as if written with a quill and hunter ink, they shined almost gold in the light as if covered with some light reflecting plastic.
The world had a billion of different fonts for their soulmarks, different sizes and locations they were placed. Darcy had done a lot of research but she had never found anyone with their words written in any other color than the standard black or faded white of soulmates passed on. Then she met Jane. Jane with her bold blocked letters in bright cherry that shined silver on the back of her neck. Jane’s words were spoken by a Norse god in New Mexico three years ago and that Norse god was sitting next to her this moment. Thor’s attention not on his soulmate at the moment, it was instead flitting back and forth between his adopted brother and Darcy with a hopeful smile on his face. Thor had been the only one to witness the exchange earlier that morning.
. . . . . . . . earlier. . . . . . . . .
Actually getting a good night’s rest after scarfing down the best pho New York had to offer had put a certain Ms. Lewis in a very good mood.
The sun was shining, the birds were chirping and her first Stark Industries paycheck had been direct deposited the night before leaving her worry-free as far as money went. So she’d be in the company of a better looking but infinitely scarier version of Lurch for most of the time in the lab today but who cared? She was feeling fan-fucking-tastic and she was going to buy everyone coffee.
She handed out hot, white cups to Jane, Thor, Tony and Bruce while grinning like a mad woman. She even got one for Oscar the grouch sitting in the back corner of the giant lab and set it down in front of him as his eyes narrowed like a wary cat.
They’d never spoken, mostly due to fear on her part and the fact he’d only been in the presence of non-avengers like her and Jane for about a week, not to mention that anyone who did try to talk to him got a cutting remark about their wit or looks.
“It’s a latte not a bomb. If I was trying to trick you I’d be a little less obvious than sitting it down in front of your face. Just drink it.” She said bluntly after he’d stared at the white paper cup like it was dogshit in a brown paper bag on fire or something. At her words he’d looked up at her face so quickly she jumped back, his this mouth was parted in a small ‘o’ and his face was ashen.
Thor was the one who spoke next as he took a few long strides over to the corner they were in. “Brother! This is good news! You have at last found yo-“
“You are not my brother and I am aware of what she is you dull ogre!” Loki exclaimed. Loki’s face had gone from a look of shock to a cruel sneer as he turned to face the girl whose eyebrows were raised in confusion.
”I require absolutely nothing from an insipid, irritating, pathetically idiotic mortal girl such as yourself.” He spat in an ugly tone.
And just like that, her good mood was ruined. The person she’d been waiting for, cynically mind you, was worse than a jerk. The person she had been waiting for was the biggest dick in the nine realms.
He still hadn’t reached for the cup but Darcy couldn’t care less. She let her feet lead her to her little chrome desk. Fuck it, she was just going to ignore him forever and be one of those badass women who found love, though fleeting, with someone who was not her soulmate.
She wasn’t really focusing on the paperwork in front of her, just staring at it. Her ankle itched and she pulled up her left pant leg to scratch at it and reread the words Loki had just spoke written there.
“Fuck me sideways.” She whispered to herself. She was hoping her awkward exchange had gone unnoticed by Jane who was the only person in the room (besides Thor and Loki now) who knew what her words said.
The aforementioned Asgardian princes were having a hushed and heated argument where she’d left them that was ending with Thor throwing his hands up in surrender and heading back to where Jane sat. Darcy picked up her phone and absolutely refused to give Loki the satisfaction that his words had any effect on her whatsoever, even if they were a permanent part of her body.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .hours later. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Darcy did not look up. She was not looking up. He could stare at her for the next thousand years, until her bones turned to ash and blew away in the dust and she wasn’t gonna look up god damn it.
She looked up.
He smiled at her, the closest to a smile she’d ever seen on him anyway, equal parts promise and dark intent. Long fingers grabbed the cup in front of him, his eyes never leaving hers, and he brought it to his mouth and took a sip.
She shouldn’t have looked up.