Chapter Three
After the cupcake fiasco, Loki was asked to stay out of the kitchen while Peter and Darcy were being trained. He largely ignored this request and spent the majority of the time following Darcy like a shadow. She, of course, basked in this, deliberately tossing flour over her shoulder at him. Steve noticed after the first couple of times and half-heartedly reprimanded her. He actually thought throwing flour at Loki sounded like a decent idea, but he was afraid Loki would snap and dump the pan of melted sugar on the girl. Peter, on the other hand, gave Loki a wide berth and stayed silent unless Steve addressed him directly. When the others returned from their meeting with the mayor, Steve released Peter to Tony and left Darcy in the kitchen while he helped Thor pack up the delivery truck.
Darcy wandered around the kitchen, snooping through the seemingly endless array of kitchen utensils and equipment. She could hear the radio blaring up in Clint’s workshop. Behind it, there was a small tinkering sound, like someone playing with a screwdriver. She poked her head out of the kitchen and looked around. Natasha was gone, probably overseeing the packing of the truck. She could hear Tony and Bruce’s voices in the office, and she assumed Peter was with them. Clint was singing along with the radio on the balcony overhead. And Loki was crouched at the bottom of the ladder that led up to the small workshop. Darcy crossed her arms over her chest and crept up behind Loki, peering over his shoulder.
“Are you unscrewing the ladder?” she whispered.
Loki didn’t flinch, but he paused the sharp twists of the screwdriver in his hand. “Indeed. Do you wish to stop me?”
“Hell no. You have another screwdriver? I’ll get the bolts at the top,” Darcy offered.
Loki smirked and withdrew an extra tool from his jacket. He held the loose ladder steady as Darcy climbed slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. She removed the screws that held the ladder against the balcony and carefully made her way to the ground. Between she and Loki, they got the ladder horizontal and out the back door without being spotted. They propped it against the wall of the alley and took up their positions by the counter inside.
“Why do you two look like you just stowed a body in my freezer?” Tony asked on his way to the kitchen.
“Just wait,” Darcy warned.
Tony shot her an interested look. “What should I be looking for?”
Darcy shrugged. “Who knows? Some things just fall from the sky.”
Tony whipped around to study the balcony. His face was blank, confused as he scanned the small area. His face lit up and his eyes sparked happily.
“You did that?” he whispered excitedly.
Loki grinned. “We thought it might be fun to test our little artist.”
Tony shook his head. “If you hear him start packing up, you scream for me. I want to see this.”
Darcy saluted him and he pushed into the kitchen, letting the door swing shut behind him. Up above, the volume of the radio was turned down a notch. They could hear Clint whistling and fumbling with his tools. Tony shot out of the kitchen and leaned against the counter, shoving half a cookie in his mouth. All three of them leaned forward, waiting for Clint to make the discovery. The radio was clicked off and the whistling turned to humming. The balcony doors clicked shut and Darcy bit her lip to squelch a groan of impatience. All of a sudden, the humming was cut short. There was a stumbling sound and a loud curse from the balcony. Clint ripped the curtain back and glared down at them.
“Where in the fuck is the ladder?” he demanded.
Darcy looked up at him innocently. “Why would we know where it went? I didn’t even notice it was gone. It was probably looters who thought the building was abandoned.”
“Looters?” he growled. “That’s the best you could come up with?”
Darcy shrugged. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. I think Steve’s calling me in the kitchen. See you later, Clint.”
She and Loki stood and ducked into the kitchen. Tony smirked up at Clint, still chewing.
“How the fuck am I supposed to get down?” Clint muttered, mostly to himself.
“Spread your wings and fly, little birdie!” Darcy shouted through the kitchen door.
“Oh, sweetheart, this is war!” Clint yelled back.
He yanked the curtains together and Tony could hear the balcony doors being thrust open with gusto. There was a fair amount of muttering and swearing sweeping in from the open balcony, accompanied by thumps and creeks. There was a loud shout, then a crash. Outside, someone screamed. Tony froze. Darcy sprinted in from the kitchen.
“Oh my god, did he die? I totally didn’t mean for him to kill himself,” she insisted, heading for the front door.
The door was ripped open and Clint stomped in, with Natasha a few steps behind him. Clint crossed the room and stopped about three inches from Darcy.
He stared her down. “It is on, sunshine.”
“Bring it,” Darcy challenged.
Natasha shoved them apart. “Enough, children! Darcy, Clint, go to your separate corners.”
They stalked off, Darcy to the kitchen, and Clint to search for his missing ladder. Natasha sighed and put her hands on her hips.
Tony cleared his throat. “Did he really just jump off the balcony?”
“What do you think?” Natasha replied, arching an eyebrow.
A couple of days later, Darcy and Peter had finally gotten the hang of things at the bakery. Peter spent his mornings with Steve and Bruce in the kitchen, waiting for Tony to roll in around eleven. Then, he hung out with him, attempting to suck some sort of experience out of their time together. It rarely worked. Clint and Darcy were at war. Three dozen cupcakes had been stuck, frosting side down, on the outside of Darcy’s car when she woke up the morning of her second day at the bakery. That afternoon, when Clint was out with Natasha on a supply run, Darcy and Loki snuck up to the balcony and switched around all of Clint’s supplies. In turn, Clint dumped a bucket of powdered sugar over Darcy on her way out of the bakery that night. The next morning when Clint sat down on his stool, he discovered that every flat surface had been given a thin coat of sugar glaze- including his seat. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t realize this until after the glaze had hardened like glue. He spent the rest of the day in his boxers, and wasn’t allowed to come down from the balcony until every customer had left. This morning, Clint had prepared his retaliation.
“Where the bloody hell has Thor gotten to?” Loki groused, pacing in front of the counter.
Tony glanced up from his phone. “Thor won’t be in today. I gave him the day off so he could go visit Jane. They haven’t seen each other in a while and he seemed bummed. You’ll have to handle the deliveries on your own today. Actually- you can take the interns.”
Darcy and Peter glanced up from the trays of cookies they were arranging for the display case. Darcy looked thrilled, Peter looked terrified. Loki jerked his head at them, gesturing for them to follow him. With one foot out the door, Darcy was jerked back by the strap of her bag.
“Not so fast, princess,” Clint chuckled. “You’re my lovely assistant today. Go get an apron.”
“But Loki needs me to help deliver cakes!” she protested.
Clint smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be delivering cakes. All the way up to the balcony.”
Peter shot Darcy a look of panic.
She pulled him to the side. “Relax, Bambi, he doesn’t bite. Loki’s harmless unless provoked.”
“Yeah? He tried to get me to take hot tins out of the oven with my bare hands!” Peter stressed.
Darcy rolled her eyes. “You’re the jackass who was going to actually do it! Look, just be nice. Don’t ask questions, don’t tap the window, and don’t drop the delivery. You’ll be fine.”
Peter swallowed hard and shuffled to the passenger door of the delivery truck. He hoisted himself up into the seat and cast a sideways glance at Loki. Loki put the truck in drive and started off, passing the order book to Peter.
“You’re navigating. Once we get on Main Street, you’ll need to pay attention,” Loki instructed.
Peter nodded dutifully and stared straight out the windshield.
“Tell me, child,” Loki spoke suddenly, “Why do you fear me?”
Peter froze, wide eyed. “Wh- I…What?”
Loki shot him a look. “Do not act as if you haven’t a clue what I’m speaking of. Why do I frighten you?”
“You’re…kind of intimidating,” Peter admitted hesitantly. “And the whole cupcake thing didn’t really help.”
Loki’s mouth curved up proudly. “Oh, that. It was just a little test. To see how much power I held over you. Now, consult the book and tell me where we’re going.”
Peter glanced down at the page. “Turn right on Edison. Go straight for about a mile, then take a left on Matthews. You’re going to take that north until it veers into Millenium Estates. Our customer is the first house on the right.”
Three deliveries later, Loki handed Peter the keys.
“Your turn, child,” Loki announced. “It’s time for our last run.”
Peter took the keys hesitantly and climbed into the cab of the truck. Loki took possession of the order book and flipped it to the correct page. He showed Peter the map and traced a route with one slender finger.
“Our next delivery is due in half an hour. You have twenty-five minutes to get us there, without breaking any laws. If we’re late, I will drive you to the farthest edge of the city, kick you out of the truck, and make you walk back to the bakery. Are we clear?” Loki cocked an eyebrow.
Peter sighed and pulled onto the road. “Got it. What’s the address again?”
Loki rattled off the set of numbers and a street name. Peter hit the breaks and snatched the book out of Loki’s hands. Loki yelped in surprise.
Peter’s head snapped up. “Sorry, sorry. I just… the address seemed familiar. Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing, child,” Loki snapped. “If you care to do that again, please find it in your heart to restrain yourself. If you don’t, you will wake covered in leeches.”
Peter gripped the steering wheel tightly and hit the gas, hoping Darcy was having better luck than he was.
“Okay, these are the cakes that I need brought upstairs,” Clint instructed, sweeping an arm over the counter holding a half dozen cakes of various sizes and flavors. “When you get them all up, then I’ll let you decorate one, any way you want to. Got it?”
Darcy nodded seriously. “Yes, I think I’ll manage to remember all of that.”
Clint smiled pleasantly. “I’ll be waiting.”
He left Darcy and clambered up to his nest. Darcy turned her back on him and grabbed a nice sized chocolate cake with a raspberry filling, and an orange spice cake speckled with coarse flakes of nutmeg. She pushed the kitchen door open with her back and strode toward the ladder confidently. It would only take her two or three trips to get the cakes upstairs, and then she could go to town with all of Clint’s cool little toys and treasures. She put her foot on the first rung of the ladder and realized the flaw in her planning. With a cake in each hand, she had no way to hold onto the ladder. She leaned forward, dropping her chest against the bars and shifting her weight to bring her other foot up to the next rung. It took her five minutes to make it a quarter of the way up. She stepped onto the eighth or ninth rung and the cake in her left hand wobbled. Darcy balanced it out quickly- just in time, actually, for the cake in her right hand to topple off of its plate and land with a splat on the floor. Darcy swore loudly, stomping one foot against the rung. She was pretty sure she heard Clint laughing above her. She made it within arm’s reach of the balcony when she lost her hold on the other cake and the floor was spattered with creamy orange filling.
“Motherfucking ass shit goodamn!” Darcy yelled, slapping her palms against the ladder.
Clint’s face appeared above hers. “Having a little trouble, Darce?”
“Fuck you, and your little cakes, too,” she seethed.
He grinned sweetly. “It would have been a lot easier if you’d put them in the dumbwaiter.”
Darcy slowly looked up at him. “The dumbwaiter? Are you fucking kidding me, Clint? I just dropped two of the most delicious looking cakes I have ever seen on the floor because you didn’t tell me you had a damn dumbwaiter?!”
“You never asked,” Clint replied.
Darcy groaned in annoyance and stomped down the ladder. As she retrieved the mop and bucket from the closet, she wondered how Peter was doing with Loki.
“Tick, tock. Tick, tock,” Loki murmured. “You’ve only got ten minutes left, child. And such a long way to go.”
Peter huffed. “Well the directions you’re giving me are taking me all over!”
“Oh, my!” Loki’s voice dripped with faux surprise. “I seem to have given you the wrong directions. We’re on the opposite side of town. Whatever will you do?”
Peter bit back his response and peered around at the street signs. One of them sparked a memory and he turned at the last minute, throwing Loki against his door. Peter glanced at the clock and pressed the gas down a little harder. He jerked the wheel to the right and guided the truck through a narrow alley that was used for city vehicles. He took a service road that wound in and out of alleyways, feeling Loki’s gaze on him the whole time. Peter turned onto a residential street and parked outside a familiar house with three minutes to spare.
Loki turned to him, a blank look on his face.
“I know the guy who lives here. He showed me the shortcut,” Peter explained.
Loki glanced up at the house. “Get the boxes.”
Peter removed the key from the ignition and released the latch on the back door, sliding it up. He grabbed the last two black boxes and attached a copy of the order to the top. He followed Loki up to the front door and did his best to become anonymous behind the cardboard boxes of baked goods. Loki pressed the doorbell firmly. Not a full minute later, the door was wrenched open.
“Hey, man. Good to see you,” a voice called warmly.
Peter slowly lifted his head. “Hey, Wade.”
The college-aged boy grinned. “Since when do you bake, Parker?”
“I don’t. Professor Fury got me a work experience program with the owner of Shield Bakery. The usual delivery guy is off today. I’m just helping out,” Peter explained.
Loki was watching him curiously. Peter passed the boxes to Wade, stiffening when their fingers brushed against each other. Loki’s eyes zoomed in on this little twitch, filing it away for future use.
Wade signed the slip and passed it back to Peter. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You should come out with me tomorrow night. I’m going to this show downtown. You’d probably like it. And you can drag my drunk ass home afterwards.”
Peter nodded, awestruck. “Y-yeah. Okay. Sure.”
Back in the truck, Loki stared at Peter silently, his eyes boring into the side of his face. Peter could feel the heat rising in his cheeks.
“What?” he asked defensively.
Loki narrowed his eyes.
“Are we going back to the bakery now?” Peter asked.
Loki waited a long time before nodding. “Drive on, child.”
“The child has a date tomorrow evening,” Loki announced when they returned to the bakery.
Peter’s jaw dropped. “Loki!”
“Do you deny it, then?” Loki shot back. “Need I remind you that I was there? I saw the whole drooling mess with my own eyes.”
“Please, for the love of god-“ Peter begged.
Tony lounged against the wall. “A date? With who? Why are you blushing like that?”
Darcy flung herself down the ladder. “Wait- you’ve got a date? With-“
“Stop!” Peter yelled.
“I’m excited, though!” she shouted back. “We have been waiting for this so long! Where are you going? What are you doing? Do you need new clothes?”
Peter buried his face in his hands. “Please…”
“Who is the lucky girl?” Tony badgered.
“It isn’t a girl,” Loki informed him.
Tony’s grin widened. “All right, kiddo!”
Darcy grabbed Peter’s shoulders. “Okay, we’ve been preparing for this our whole lives-“
“No, we haven’t. I’ve known you for two years,” Peter moaned.
“-and we know what we have to do,” Darcy continued.
Steve walked into the room with Bruce, wiping his hands on his apron. “What’s going on?”
“Peter’s got a date with some guy tomorrow,” Clint filled them in.
Steve smiled. “Hey, that’s great, Peter.”
“I’m going to throw myself into a black hole,” Peter said into his palms.
Darcy shook him. “Are you even listening? We need to make a drug store run. We can get junk food and apricots and pumpkin, and I’ll make that kick ass face scrub I found last year!”
“With junk food?” Clint asked dubiously.
Darcy waved him away. “No, with the fruit. What do you need, Peter? New jeans? New shoes? Shaving cream?”
“I don’t even shave,” Peter muttered.
“Shut up, I’m talking!” Darcy shouted. “You don’t need condoms, do you? Don’t fuck on the first date, Peter. That’s not classy.”
Peter threw his hands up in the air. “Dear god, will you please just stop! It isn’t a date!”
The room fell silent.
“Are you sure?” Darcy asked.
Peter sighed. “Yeah, I’m positive. There was a lot of awkwardness, a little bit of joking, but no mention of a date.”
“It’s a date,” Loki said simply. “Trust me.”
Peter groaned loudly and pushed his way out of the bakery, muttering the whole way.