Legacy

Blue Jean Baby King

I still don't understand why you must obtain a new one," Thor pondered, strolling alongside Darcy as they navigated through crowds of holiday shoppers. Well, Darcy had to navigate, avoiding the bumping elbows of bag laden people. Thor just seemed to part the seas wherever he went, and he wasn't even watching where he was going, too engrossed in Darcy's malfunctioning GPS device. The idiot was enamored by it. Said its voice reminded him of Jane, whose company they had just left mere minutes ago.

"She works fine," he beamed. "Listen."

"Buckingham Palace will be on your left in fifty feet," Siri—the miniature computer in Thor's grasp—informed in that oh-so-happy-to-oblige monotone.

Darcy sighed. "We're not in England anymore, doofus. And that's Parfait Palace on the left, not..." she trailed off, giving up. She didn't even know why she bothered explaining anymore. Thor had barely been acknowledging her presence since she gave him the GPS as a joke gift.

Siri went on, totally uncaring to Darcy's frustration. The little computerized dame was probably just as taken as any human female would be if held that close to Thor's arms. "You are now arriving at Billy's Adult Arcade and Skee Ball."

"See?" Darcy argued. "Your new girlfriend's lost her mind. She can't even connect to the web. She just spits out stuff in her memory...which means..." Darcy narrowed her eyes at Thor. His face was mostly hidden beneath the brim of a baseball cap and by the golden locks falling forward. As annoying as it was to be second most interesting to a malfunctioning computer, Darcy was at least grateful his downcast focus was hiding his identity from the public. She hated having to rescue him from drooling teenyboppers.

What she didn't hate, however, was that she, of all the small town nobodies of this world, got to be the one to taser him. That she was chosen by the gods, on that pivotal night in the desert, to be there when Jane ran him over. Twice. Thor's coming had changed her life forever, which had been in desperate need of changing ever since she decided to major in political science. He was a true hero.

But still, as much as she loved the oaf, he could also drive her really fucking banana-balls at times.

"Which means," Darcy continued, "somebody actually went to Billy's?" She now beheld Thor with a look of disgust. "You realize that place decorates with the skeevy bodily fluids of dirty old men?"

"I was in a gaming mood," Thor boomed without remorse, looking up at her. "And I am an adult."

That was debatable. "It's not that kind of arcade, dummy!" Darcy said, flailing her arms.

Thor just blinked innocently at her. "Are you telling me Skee Ball is not a game?"

"Whatever. It's Jane's problem, not mine." Darcy washed her hands of the matter, and hoped to the gods (or Thor's ancestors or whoever) that Thor had washed his hands, literally, of that place. "What are you going to get her for Christmas?"

Thor actually tore his attention away from Siri, probably at the mention of Jane. Or perhaps it was the Victoria's Secret window he was now ogling.

"Wow." Darcy gaped at him. "Can you not be a perv for like, two seconds?"

Thor tilted his head and gazed awestruck at a sheer red nothing trimmed with white marabou feathers. It was draped loosely on a mannequin in desperate need of a sandwich. And a head. "Jane would look very pretty in that," Thor stated.

"Well duh, Casanova." Darcy rolled her eyes. "But did you ever stop to think that's a gift she should get you, not the other way around?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Darcy. I would never wear a frock like that." Thor stepped eagerly into the boutique, braving the stank cloud of cheap perfumes. He immediately caught the eyes of several young and predatory employees, but he didn't see them. Just beheld racks of lace and sequined crap with satisfaction. "Fandral would approve of this place as a gift haven for the fairer sex."