#nerdos

The festive season continued to present itself as something of a busy time for Thor who, so used to the Yule traditions of Asgard, had found himself amongst a whole new array of celebrations to discover over the years. Though no stranger to spending time on Earth, he has indulged in comparatively few winters on the planet amongst those he holds dearest and many traditions are still new and thus exciting for him. Admittedly this is a bonus: he is naturally inclined to curiosity and endlessly fascinated by festivals, traditions and the opportunity to discover something new. Yesterday it had been music by Slade; today it was gingerbread.

With little intention to adjust the crisp weather (promising snow in the coming hours, he rather suspected), Thor had decided to drop in on Darcy whilst he was in the area. There was always a comfort in the familiar even - or especially - amidst these times of discovery and he had been seized with the impulsive urge to share in today’s latest acquisition. After all, she never seemed to mind his impromptu appearances, and if she did he rather presumed she would have taken the keys off of him by now.

It’s only a brief walk to the apartment, and he lets himself in as quietly as a man of his size and strength can. That isn’t to say he is entirely incapable of subtlety, but Midgardian doors are almost as weak as their hinges and when he first arrived it took him a good two weeks to stop slamming them open so fast the walls suffered. This time he is careful, but notes that music is on, everything feels very festive - and then Darcy slides into his vision in a manner which he can only think to liken to that animated film with a deer on the ice which Jane had once showed him.  

It registers in a few seconds that she is wearing his shirt, endearingly oversized - and then it registers she is wearing little else with it. He decides for the moment not to think too much upon that before his brain short-circuits.

He blinks. Then blinks again, as though the image might suddenly shift. When it doesn’t and she speaks to him, he takes a second to reply.

“I, uh..gingerbread.” He raises the hand still burdened with the bag containing several boxes. “I was going to try this and thought you might want some.” There's another pause, and by not he is unable to keep the ridiculous, teasing grin from his face. “I can come back later if you’re occupied, though. Nice socks.”