There were a number of reasons that Loki would rather spend his time with Darcy Lewis than with Jane Foster, all of which started and ended with Thor. This was the woman who had changed him so completely and so quickly that he had lost his arrogance, had become worthy once more. To look at her was to see Thor's face and feel the weight of his own decisions.
To look at her was to risk madness.
Not that he admitted as much even to himself. He fell back on the other reasons, all perfectly valid, in order to justify his decisions. Darcy was less competent in the sciences, such she had already told him, and thus would be less likely to notice when his equations strayed closer to magic than astrophysics. It was a simple matter of maintaining his disguise, and that would be easier with her observing his work than Jane Foster.
Loki listened to the exchange and watched the flying packages with interest and bemusement. Was this a morning ritual? It had the well-rehearsed manner of something done every day.
"Thank you, I assume this is to be my work space?" He slipped gracefully into the seat before the lit up screen. It was of a different shape than the device he had investigated last night, but it seemed to be of a similar function.
He began to move a pile of papers away from the mechanised writing tray so that he could begin. A book slid out from the middle, well worn and battered. It was open on a stylised depiction of a man holding a hammer aloft and the name writ clear at the top was THOR: GOD OF THUNDER. A library book borrowed to research the Norse deities and forgotten, swept up by SHIELD along with their work and returned the same way.
Loki dropped it as if he had touched a live snake, face paling beyond his control to hide.
no subject
To look at her was to risk madness.
Not that he admitted as much even to himself. He fell back on the other reasons, all perfectly valid, in order to justify his decisions. Darcy was less competent in the sciences, such she had already told him, and thus would be less likely to notice when his equations strayed closer to magic than astrophysics. It was a simple matter of maintaining his disguise, and that would be easier with her observing his work than Jane Foster.
Loki listened to the exchange and watched the flying packages with interest and bemusement. Was this a morning ritual? It had the well-rehearsed manner of something done every day.
"Thank you, I assume this is to be my work space?" He slipped gracefully into the seat before the lit up screen. It was of a different shape than the device he had investigated last night, but it seemed to be of a similar function.
He began to move a pile of papers away from the mechanised writing tray so that he could begin. A book slid out from the middle, well worn and battered. It was open on a stylised depiction of a man holding a hammer aloft and the name writ clear at the top was THOR: GOD OF THUNDER. A library book borrowed to research the Norse deities and forgotten, swept up by SHIELD along with their work and returned the same way.
Loki dropped it as if he had touched a live snake, face paling beyond his control to hide.