Loki’s minor eruption, the derision in his voice, no matter how tempered by the end of his rant, was enough to trigger her fight or flight instinct severely enough that her back thudded into the wall behind her before the haze of panic could clear from her eyes. The casual admission of his age, the underlying threat of violence, the realization that she was in so far over her head she might drown, left her heart pounding hard enough to burst, her breath quickening. The flat felt so very small with him in it.
Her thoughts turned practical, analytical. Gauging the distance between her and the nearest exit, determining how quickly she could flee before being overtaken. Noted that her keys and her bag – her cell phone, her best method of communication – was out of reach. It would take additional time to scoop them up, offering him a greater chance to react.
How strong was he? Would a locked door stop him? She might have a better chance of barricading herself in her bedroom, but unless she managed to snatch up her bag, she would be left with no way to let Jane know she needed help. Fighting him was out of the question. Darcy was scrappy, but knew better than to think she could take him on.
Gradually, her vision cleared, and she focused more on diffusing the current situation long enough to escape, or at least seek solitude to mull over her options. She reminded herself, again and again, that if Loki meant them any harm, he would have executed that nefarious plan well before his identity was discovered. It was quite possible that he legitimately just wanted to assist Jane with her research in some misguided attempt to right a few wrongs.
None mourn, none seek.
In the end, it was those four words that swayed her. Loki could be wrong, but regardless, she could not imagine the sheer loneliness he must feel. Cut off from everything and everyone that he knew, with the assumption that his death was worthy of a parade, and only Jane’s research to focus on. His temper was a dangerous thing, yet this was clearly an emotional topic for him.
She took a deep breath. She needed to hand control of the situation back to him. With luck, that would calm him down. Palms sticky, she wiped them on her shirt, relaxed her posture.
“What do I tell Jane?”
Best to tackle each problem individually, at least for the moment. Further questioning would have to wait. She could do this. Hell, they might never succeed in opening a pathway to Asgard, or perhaps discover another realm entirely. All she had to do was play it cool, and pretend he was still Leita.
“She’ll probably call again soon, wanting to know if I’m okay.”
no subject
Her thoughts turned practical, analytical. Gauging the distance between her and the nearest exit, determining how quickly she could flee before being overtaken. Noted that her keys and her bag – her cell phone, her best method of communication – was out of reach. It would take additional time to scoop them up, offering him a greater chance to react.
How strong was he? Would a locked door stop him? She might have a better chance of barricading herself in her bedroom, but unless she managed to snatch up her bag, she would be left with no way to let Jane know she needed help. Fighting him was out of the question. Darcy was scrappy, but knew better than to think she could take him on.
Gradually, her vision cleared, and she focused more on diffusing the current situation long enough to escape, or at least seek solitude to mull over her options. She reminded herself, again and again, that if Loki meant them any harm, he would have executed that nefarious plan well before his identity was discovered. It was quite possible that he legitimately just wanted to assist Jane with her research in some misguided attempt to right a few wrongs.
None mourn, none seek.
In the end, it was those four words that swayed her. Loki could be wrong, but regardless, she could not imagine the sheer loneliness he must feel. Cut off from everything and everyone that he knew, with the assumption that his death was worthy of a parade, and only Jane’s research to focus on. His temper was a dangerous thing, yet this was clearly an emotional topic for him.
She took a deep breath. She needed to hand control of the situation back to him. With luck, that would calm him down. Palms sticky, she wiped them on her shirt, relaxed her posture.
“What do I tell Jane?”
Best to tackle each problem individually, at least for the moment. Further questioning would have to wait. She could do this. Hell, they might never succeed in opening a pathway to Asgard, or perhaps discover another realm entirely. All she had to do was play it cool, and pretend he was still Leita.
“She’ll probably call again soon, wanting to know if I’m okay.”