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Darcy liked her job as mini-Mischief Maker. It was fun to learn and fun to do. That’s why Loki didn’t understand why she insisted on continuing her classes in that feeble excuse for a school. It distracted her from his far more important lessons.
“I’ve decided to change my major. Psychology is the way for me. If I can learn how people think, it’ll be much easier to fool them, right?” she had announced the other day.
“Why do you continue dulling your mind in that prison?”
“I can’t just not go to school, Loki!” she had said.
“I don’t see why not. You’ll learn more from me than any human could ever teach you,” he had replied.
“That’s probably true. But think of it as, I don’t know, a secret identity or something. Who would suspect Darcy the Psych Major to be Loki’s right hand lady?”
“Secret identities are for mundane humans with a compulsive need for heroics. You are not a hero and your humanity is…irrelevant.”
Darcy had stared. “I’m just going to take that as a compliment and be flattered. Seems easier.” And she rushed off to class. Loki had decided this was not acceptable behavior, but he could use it to his advantage, at least.
Darcy snuck a glance to the second to last row of desks and stifled a groan. The lanky, scraggly-haired guy seated there sent her a sharp smile. Darcy glared and tried really hard to spontaneously develop telepathy: What are you doing here, Loki?
She was pretty sure that, as a god, Loki probably could read her mind if he wanted but the smug bastard innocently returned his attention to the professor. She fidgeted. It wasn’t the first time Loki showed up in one of her classes, pretending to be a student. None of the students noticed his presence or absence, of course, but his pseudonym, Luke Silversmith, would be called during roll whenever he was present. Not that many professors did roll call, but there were one or two sticklers for attendance in any staff.
By the end of class, Darcy had absorbed about zero percent of the professor’s lecture but she had the presence of mind to notice that the class had started to submit their papers. Darcy took a deep breath and slowly released it. She had spent the past ten hours straight working on the midterm paper that accounted for a good portion of her final grade. No late papers accepted. As she was prepping herself, she felt Loki walk passed her. His hand brushed across her paper which promptly burst into blazing blue flames that didn’t even leave ashes where her paper used to be. Externally, she merely paled in shock. Inwardly? Screaming despair.
“Pop quiz,” she heard him whisper. “Sustained illusion.”
Oh god, oh god, shit, I can’t. Darcy froze momentarily. Before she started hyperventilating, she saw Loki standing behind her professor, once again wearing his Asgard clothing. His steely green eyes watched her, judging her every movement and expecting failure. Darcy felt her resolve return. Like hell was she going to give him ammunition against her. Darcy was skilled, god damn it.
She scowled, muttering a few choice words from the latest text Loki had given her. It’s like psychic paper, she thought, show the professor what he wants to see. What I need him to see. A pristine and completed research paper appeared in her hands. She quickly tugged at the pages and analyzed the print. It looked real enough. Defiantly, she stomped up to the professor’s desk and plunked the paper down. The professor glanced at the paper briefly, “Thank you, Miss Lewis. I’ll have the grades posted by this weekend.”
Darcy nodded curtly and stormed out of the room.
“What the hell was that?” Darcy seethed.
“You passed the first part of the quiz. Let’s see if you can make the illusion last until after your grades are posted.” Loki said loftily and disappeared. Darcy fumed. She hated his disappearing act (at least when he did it at her inconvenience. It was brilliant every other time).
Sunday evening, Darcy logged into the school’s website and checked her grades. “Huh.”
Facebook status update: Aced my midterm paper, hooray~!
Tumblr text post: Sustained illusions = Mastered!
