Shut Up And Kiss Me (Loki x Darcy)

The Importance Of Being Pragmatic

Loki had taken the news surprisingly well, all things considered.

As soon as Greg had left to meet up with friends in the hotel bar, Darcy had left the room, only to find the God of Mischief loitering in the hallway outside.
Whether or not he had been listening at the door, she couldn't tell, but his controlled reaction led her to believe that he already knew about Greg's blackmailing tactics.

"I'm so fucking angry!" She fumed, roughly pulling the little black dress she had worn the previous night, from one of her bags. "You've no idea how much I wanna tell him where to shove his fucking tickets, and his money! But it probably wouldn't fit, 'cause there'd be no room left up his ass with his fat head already being there!"

"Believe me, I share your annoyance." He replied coolly, a distinct air of indifference in his voice. "However, regrettably you must refrain. We still need his assistance."

Darcy stilled abruptly and closed her eyes in a desperate bid to calm her rising temper. She knew Loki was right of course, but that didn't make it any easier.
Greg was a controlling, manipulative asshole. The thought of having to play along with his little charade made her furious.
But Loki was right. She had to suck it up, if they were going to get back to New York.

"The things I do for you." She grumbled, clasping a hand to her chest in a dramatic gesture of allegiance and martyrdom.

"Granted, the situation is extremely vexatious. But if you look at it logically.....a few hours spent in the company of his companions is a relatively small sacrifice." Loki reasoned, as he paced the room in his usual manner when agitated.

Taking her dress, Darcy made her way into the bathroom to get changed, without saying a word.
She wasn't angry at Loki. He was being surprisingly levelheaded. Which ought to have been a relief. So she wasn't quite sure why she found his willingness to comply with Greg's irrational demands, so irritating.

She changed into her dress, feeling dread gathering deep in the pit of her stomach. Keeping her black bra on for the sake of her modesty (the lace, as she had found, was not only very revealing but also potentially hazardous) Greg would not like the dress, she knew that much, and she didn't give a damn for his opinion.
But it was a wedding reception. And she didn't want to draw too much attention to herself, by wearing something so risqué and flashing so much cleavage.

"This doesn't look right." She complained, as she returned to the room, fiddling with the cord that held her dress together. "You can see my bra!"

Loki turned, casting a glance over her in quick assessment. "Then why wear it? You didn't last night."

She huffed impatiently. "That was different. We were out-out. This is a wedding party. I can't have my boobs on display."

"Can you not wear something else then?" He suggested, almost disinterestedly.

"No. I've only got jeans, trousers, a sweater. My suede skirt....but none of that is appropriate for this type of party."

He rolled his eyes, not bothering to mask his exasperation. "What does it matter? They're not even your acquaintances."

"It still matters because I'm not giving that asshat the satisfaction of seeing me look shabby."

"You're being ridiculous--"

"Oh am I?" She snapped. "You would think that. I wouldn't expect you to get it."