In a frenzy of lips and hands and flying clothes, they stumbled through the door to the bedroom.

God and mortal, both too far past drunk to even care about the taboo of what they were doing, fell back onto the bed, her on top of him, nestled between strong, lean thighs on impossibly long legs. Normally this wouldn't happen. Ever. But, fuelled by alcohol and too much sexual frustration, neither even gave a damn.

It started innocently enough; Loki was staying at Jane's with she and Thor, under the condition that he be under constant house arrest. They were out of town for a weekend – on some kind of "romantic" trip and Darcy was staying to ensure the younger god didn't leave.

Tired of reading now, the dark haired man made his way downstairs, so bored he was actually interested in what the girl was doing. Incidentally, he found her on the sofa, watching some kind of mindless drivel on the television.

"Hey," she turned to smile at him. "How's it going? Still bat-shit crazy?"

"Still bat-shit crazy," was Loki's reply, along with a smirk. He had to admit, he was fond of the small bespectacled girl. She amused him, her sarcastic wit almost a rival for his own. She also had the rare trait that she didn't immediately dismiss him as simply an affectionless psychopath who did what he did simply for the sake of doing it. She tried to understand him – he knew she didn't quite get it, but trying was more than most people did. They weren't friends, exactly, more acquaintances, but Jane and Thor were constantly commenting on how they flirted. "What in the name of all that is holy are you watching?"

"I dunno," she shrugged. "Some dumb movie. Jane's DVD selection is beyond bad and there's nothing good on TV."

"There's never anything good on TV," Loki smirked, though he sat cross-legged next to the girl.

"Yeah, but you're like, crazy intelligent. You actually read for fun," she said. "This is how I get my entertainment. Well, that and shooters."

"Shooters?" Loki repeated. "You mean firearms?"

"No… shooters," Darcy looked shocked. "You're from this massively advanced part of space and you don't even have shooters?"

"Evidently not," Loki raised one eyebrow.

"It's like… its alcohol. Like wine but way stronger. You take it in little tiny shot glasses," Darcy explained.

"Sounds fun," the slender man commented with a small chuckle. There was a brief, slightly awkward pause. Darcy broke it.

"Hey, Loki?" she asked, and he turned to her. "Wanna do some shooters?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he smiled at her, and she couldn't help laughing.

He rolled over so now he was on top of her, not breaking the kiss, pinning her to the bed gently by her shoulders and kissing his way down her jawline.

A couple of hours and too many drinks to count later, and they both sat out on Jane's balcony, backs against the wall, staring up at the stars.

"So this Heimdall guy," Darcy said. "He can see us right now?"

"Probably," Loki said.

"Even though he's like, light-years away?" she sounded astounded.

"Yep," Loki nodded once.

"Huh. That's crazy. Hey, Heimdall," she yelled into the sky, and Loki laughed. Darcy turned to him.

"Aren't you going to say hi?" she said.

"He's… more Thor's friend than mine," Loki said, lightly.

"What about your friends back in space? What are they like?" she was curious. He sighed.

"Truth be told, I don't really have any friends back on Asgard," he took a small swig from the whisky bottle between them. "They were Thor's friends, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. They simply spent time with me because Thor did."

"That's… kinda sad," she said.

"Not really," Loki shrugged. "I don't need friends. I enjoy my own company enough."

"Well… we're friends, right?" she said. He studied her for a while, then grinned.

"Right," he said and, to her surprise, he put an arm around her. "Heavens, girl, you're freezing! Here."

He pulled her closer and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Loki?" she said, quietly.

"Yeah?" he replied, in a similar tone.

"Thor's dad is an asshat," she stated. Loki snorted.

"Tell me something I don't know," he said. There was a pause. "My father was no better."

"Was? What happened to him?" she asked.

"I killed him," he said it so casually she felt herself tense up. He felt it too and sighed.

"Sorry. I keep forgetting not to say things llike that here," he said. "Being bat-shit crazy and all."

"You're not so bat-shit crazy," she told him. "God, you smell good! I haven't been this close to a cute guy in like… forever."

He pulled back a little and looked at her, an amused smirk on his face.

"Cute?" he repeated. "I'm cute?"

"Yeah," she said. "I mean, in the way that crazy guys who try to take over the world are cute. You're definitely the cutest psycho who's tried to take over the world."

"I'll assume that was a compliment," Loki laughed. "At any rate, I know what you mean. It's been a long time since I've been this close to a beautiful girl."

"Beautiful?" she repeated. "I'm beautiful?"

"Yes," he leaned his forehead against hers. "In the way that the stars are beautiful."

And, just like that, their lips met in a passionate kiss.

And that's how they got where they were now – lying side by side in the bed in Jane's guest room, panting and sweating but neither one felt disgusting for it. Rather, they felt satisfied – having let out something that had been kept in for days, weeks, months, years. Neither one knew exactly how long it had been and right now, neither one cared. Now all they cared to do was to sleep. and so they arranged themselves around each other, her back to his toned chest, his arms around her slim waist, and they did just that.