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♉ of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch
After sending Darcy along home with her exsanguinating friend, he returns to his own apartment (bought and paid for with false papers and rerouted funds and cloaked to the gills from any and all prying eyes, S.H.I.E.L.D.-employed or otherwise) to watch over the bustle of activity surrounding the Lewis residence. He doesn't peer into the apartment proper - Darcy's made that line very evident after a prior misunderstanding - but he does see the good captain carted off to medical facilities unknown. There's a momentary debate about whether or not to send a shadow clone after Rogers, to further plant the seeds of curiosity and doubt, but... Loki decides against it. If he's done his work properly then it will only be a matter of time until the captain comes looking for him.
This entire endeavor was meant to be so much simpler before Darcy had swept in in a poor imitation of her heroically inclined colleagues. Oh, well. Still, one must follow through on things.
So it is that Loki Silvertongue sits in the outdoor dining area of a local restaurant with a steaming cup of black tea. Clearing his throat, he raises his eyebrows at his guest and waits for acknowledgment.
This entire endeavor was meant to be so much simpler before Darcy had swept in in a poor imitation of her heroically inclined colleagues. Oh, well. Still, one must follow through on things.
So it is that Loki Silvertongue sits in the outdoor dining area of a local restaurant with a steaming cup of black tea. Clearing his throat, he raises his eyebrows at his guest and waits for acknowledgment.
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"You mistake me for someone who cares about performing for an audience." Wrong brother, Darcy, but he doesn't say that. "And that my aim was to kill him at all. It wasn't." A beat. "Not this time, at least." Shrugging a shoulder at the entire affair, he brings his tea to his lips nonchalantly. "I'm hardly surprised. That Coulson is one of the few competents you've surrounded yourself with." He stops mid-sip at that last bit of information. "...Does he now." The gears start whirring even faster than usual as he considers this new variable. Damn. This could become messy.
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"No, it was to offer to send him back in time, thereby weakening the Avengers and allowing yourself a window opportunity in which to succeed in taking over the world." The thing about Darcy is that while she can be incredibly clueless the majority of the time is that her moments of insight are, well, insightful. Or accurate. "I didn't even know you could do that." Another slice of bread, god does she love restaurants that do this. "He apparently has recorded all my outgoing calls. And yeah, he does. To be fair he totally thought we were having, you know. Sex."
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"I'm capable of a great many things," he deflects with a knowing smile that turns slightly condescending at the idea that Coulson thinks he has any sort of bead on the situation. "He may record as he likes, but I make it a point to ensure that any and all contact I make is untraceable unless I wish otherwise." Taking another sip of tea, it's only by virtue of centuries of poise and practice that when he chokes on it, he only barely makes a sound. "...I'm sorry, what."
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Darcy doesn't even bother trying to hid the smirk at the obvious aborted spit-take. "Cap. He asked about us and then asked if I was being, you know. Safe." Loki wasn't the one he had to worry about that with, but she wasn't about to tell Captain America about her sex life, even if it'd make him splutter. "Don't worry, I corrected him."
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There are times when Darcy is all to obviously Loki's daughter, and whenever that particular smirk makes an appearance is one of them. He often wonders if anyone else would take notice of it - maybe the captain will now that he's aware of it. There's a quick, pained expression on his face as he unwillingly imagines the conversation. Bloody Hel. "I suppose I should be grateful for that small kindness."
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Normally it'd take Darcy practicing in the mirror for hours to get it down just right but the smirks? They've always come easy to her. Now, at least now she's got some idea where it came from. "What, you think I want him walking around thinking I'm sleeping with the enemy? God if Clint ever found out..." Then she'd be out her super sexy archer. And that would be a major bummer.
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"Hardly. However, from an objective viewpoint, one can appreciate a certain... Sadistic humor in letting him stew in his mistake." Loki grins for a moment, able to stand outside for a moment to enjoy how Steve must have squirmed. Then, canting his head to the side, he asks, "Found out your relationship to me, or came to the same false conclusion the soldier did?"
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"I didn't think anyone could actually turn that shade of red. Like I know people say that in books and movies and stuff all the time but seriously? Didn't think it was possible." A pause as she considers the question. "Probably the second one. There's like that one saying - the sins of the father or something that'd excuse me for the whole genetics thing." Eventually, though she'd not admit this to Loki just yet, she feels like Clint should know. But that was going to take extensive planning.
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The grin twitches slightly wider. "As you've quickly learned, there's quite a number of 'impossible' things that have been labeled so by simpler minds." Loki chews over the moment before deciding to... Be somewhat helpful for once. "If the archer does indeed care for you, he would know you better than to believe such things. At the very least, he should give you chance enough to explain." Then to cover the moment, he decides to butter another piece of bread oh so deliberately.
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The sudden moment of actual helpfulness takes blindsides her and she just blinks at him. It's gone as soon as it came of course, as he's moved on. But it still happened, and she guesses that's something. "Thanks." Then Darcy moves on to help forget about it. "I mean he keeps wanting to like, find out more about my family but I'm pretty good at deflecting them." Which means she's only told him that she actually has a father instead of easily telling him that he's dead.
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Loki shrugs noncommittally, dismissing the sentimentality of it. Because in this family, one doesn't talk about such things. Or. Feelings. Whatever. It's how they roll. "I'd not expect anything less," he quips instead, a fleeting grin to poke fun at her legacy. He does wish she were a touch more adept at lying, but there's time enough to learn.
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She can actually get behind that, if only because she's the sort of person who does rather than say. Loki does get a return smile at the family line of truth aversion. "At least there's the comfort that if he goes for my file he'll find he doesn't have high enough clearance for it." Technically she doesn't have high enough clearance for it but Coulson does.
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He sips a toast of tea to, "Ah, the cozy security of rampant bureaucracy. What would one do without it."
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"Well I'd have been out of a major and my senior thesis for a start." However annoying it might be, she has to give it props for keeping secrets. And for making everything just a little bit more complicated. "You have no idea how much paperwork I've had to do for this entire thing. Worse, 'cause Couslon wants them in triplicate."
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"Oh no," he declares in deadpan so complete, pots everywhere start mourning. "However will you survive." Rolling his eyes, he does have a certain distaste for the way these mortals have the board set. How anything of any import was accomplished at all with all the red tape to wade through was thoroughly beyond him - far better with a monarchy, one sure hand to guide the way. ...Ah well. Eventually.
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Credit where credit was due, of course. "Dunno, probably have to start learning how to play some instrument and start busking for spare change." Darcy doesn't even have to think about how badly that'd all turn out. Maybe she could get Thor on drums and Jane on keyboard. Just in case.
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"It's comforting to know you've a thoroughly thought out contingency plan. You'll never go hungry again." Yeah, no.
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"Got a better option?" Spoken around her sandwich like a boss.
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Giving Darcy a withering look over his forkful of crostini - manners, child, you could do well to mind them - Loki replies, "I could always do with an extra hand. Good help is so very hard to find."
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"Are you offering me a job as your henchman? Henchwoman?" She can't decide if that'd look horrible or awesome on her resumes. Not that she's considering it because Loki might be her father but he's still hellbent on taking over the world. And she likes living in a democracy as compared to a monarchy.
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"Nothing so trivial as that. It would be more along the lines of..." Loki pauses, chewing thoughtfully while trying to think of something appropriately professional sounding. "Executive administrator of logistics."
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Sort of.
"Maybe if they fire me, or if my friends don't work there anymore. And I'd only think about it." Darcy couldn't deny that it sounded cool at any rate.
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Leaning back in his seat, he steeples his fingers, surveying his daughter over them. "Nepotism aside, I do hope you know that should you ever actively wish to change fields - not necessarily shift into mine, mind - but into a different area of any sort, you've only need say the word. I'll do whatever necessary to aid the transition."
Because while they've never really talked about how his goals and her (very up to rescheduling) nine to give contradict each other, Loki does realize that at the very least it could put the two of them at odds. At the worst, it could put one of them in a serious amount of danger.
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Not that she was against a nudge in the right direction, but overtly stacking the odds for instant acceptance into anywhere and anyplace she chose? She couldn't really get behind that - Jane had set too good of an example.
"If I need it, I'll let you know." Darcy meets his gaze for a moment or so before returning to her sandwich because seriously, Loki eats far too quick for his own good. "But I'm pretty happy where I am, least for the moment."
It's true - though the for the moment was the key part. When her entire job/life/whatever SHIELD was hinged on her not doing exactly what she was doing, well... for the moment was the best phrasing she could come up with.