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MHA Lobby, Friday

The residents of MHA would probably either notice or hear a bit of a ruckus down in the lobby today. That was because Loki had taken it upon himself to start decorating the lobby for the upcoming holidays. He wasn't particularly fond of turkey (too dry) or eggnog (unless it was laced with something) but he did like decorating.

Just a little bit.

Shut up.

Of course, he wasn't the best at decorating. In fact, he really fucking sucked at it. There was a strand of lights looped around his neck like a necklace, some twinkling, some burnt out.

"Fucking lights," he grumbled. "One fucking bulb blows and the whole entire thing is ruined."

There was a turkey (not a real one) hanging on one wall, stapled to said wall with heavy staples. There was garland taped to the desk with duct tape. There was wreaths gracing the walls (some missing some of their needles) and there was a candle burning, giving off the scent of Christmas cookies.

"Work you fucking pieces of shit!" Loki nearly yelled. The lights didn't respond. In the background, Christmas droned on.

[MHA is open! Rent a room, talk to Loki, boggle at the decorations! Look, if I can't escape holiday decorations, I'm going to go overboard!]

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"Maybe," he admitted, ignoring the bows for now to lean against the counter. "Appearances aside, I think a lot about the people I meet. It helps me not seem so fucking off balance in new places. And this isn't like any place I've ever been before. But come on, I bet you've been thinking about me too."

Well, she couldn't exactly deny it, as that would be lying. Daisy's head tilted slightly, moving steadily along the line of lights. "Oh," she said, "a bit here and there." Most of it police business. "A bit hard to avoid when a good chunk of my paycheck goes to you and everything."

"Which I use to buy all this awesome shit," he said, poking at the bag of bows. "See, it's money well spent. Figured anything else out?"

Loki picked up the bag of bows, took one out and stuck it to his shirt.

There was a faint grin of approval for the placement of the bow, and then Daisy gave a slight no, looking back at the lights. "A thing or two," she admitted. "Pure speculation, and nothing I am at liberty to share, as it's now official police business."

"Are you investigating me?" he asked with a bit of a surprised laugh. He offered her a bow of her own, green and shiny. "Really?"

Daisy eyed Loki a moment before accepting the bow, setting down the lights long enough to be able to add it to the base of her ponytail. "If I were investigating you yet," she said, "you'd know it. I'm an officer of the law, Loki, not a spy."

But if he honestly expected to waltz into a police station with that whole little charade and not expect to at least have an eye kept on him afterwards, well, then, Daisy was of the opinion that he should spend a little less time thinking about observing other people and observe a bit of how the world worked.

Or at least how it worked when Daisy Day was involved.

"Official police business sounds kind of serious," he said and nodded approvingly at the bow. "Looks good there. My fault for being a pompous jackass, right? The flaming sword thing was over the line, despite it being the truth. I don't have it anymore, if that helps."

But sometimes, he really wished he did.

"It was part of the ensemble." He paused for a minute and plopped a bow on top of the radio that was still playing Christmas music. "If you have questions about me, ask them. I'll answer. If you don't, I get the next question."

"If I had them," Daisy said with a nod, trying not to sigh because he was rather stuck on wanting to get to all that, wasn't he? And here she just wanted to help with the lobby, "I'd ask them. When I'm on duty in, oh, about..." She checked her watch, "ten minutes."

"Then, I get the next question," he said and grinned. "Ever danced to Christmas music in the lobby of an apartment building?"

That was much better. Daisy grinned. "Quite a few times, actually," she admitted, as she found it often hard to keep from moving sometimes after a night out, and there were lots of nights out during the holidays. "Have you?"

"I'm not that good of a dancer," he admitted and stuck another bow to his shirt. "I've got two fucking left feet and a peg leg to boot."

He paused.

"Not really. Of course, I was expecting you to say no to that question so I could be all smooth and suave and ask you but you've ruined my plans. Me and my bows are so sad now."

"Maybe you just need another one," Daisy suggested, reaching for one and handing it over to Loki. "I didn't mean to ruin your plans at all, but if you're that bad of a dancer, maybe I'm kind of glad I did. Although, if you never have, maybe the first go around really should be from a seasoned lobby Christmas music dancer such as myself."

"I thought you meant another leg there for a minute and wondered if you just wanted to me to end up on my ass for shits and giggles," he said and stuck the bow to one of his shoulders.

"I've danced before it's just been a really long while," he continued. "If you're willing, I'm pretty damn pliant and my boots aren't that heavy today."

Anything Daisy was thinking that could be said about spare legs was certainly not something appropriate to say to one's landlord.

She took a moment, to remember which light she was on and to check her watch to see how long she had until she really did need to bust it out and get to the station, and then held out her hand, for Loki to help her to her feet.

Loki reached down and took her hand, tugging her gently (he could do gentle when he wanted to, really).

"You can blame me if you're late," he offered. "Make up some extravagant excuse about getting caught in Christmas lights because I'm a manic Santa wannabe."

He paused and grinned at her. "Or blame it on a huge fucking dog."

"One of those never did show up" Daisy noted, idly, as she grinned back; her hand was careful not to disturb Loki's bow as it settled easily on his shoulder and she tried to listen better for the music, which wasn't easy for her, as her head seemed to always have its own beat in its head which, for as much as she'd done things like this, she wasn't too terribly good with it, as the actual music rarely synced up to the music in her head. "I won't be late," she decided. "I just probably won't get to the burned bulb in that string of lights."

"I'll find that fucking bulb and tell it you really wanted to change it but you had to leave," he said, smiling. "Or I'll save it for you. You can help me decorate some more when you have some more time. If you'd like."

He hadn't been lying when he said he hadn't danced in awhile (Bartleby didn't take too kindly to pausing to dance) so he fumbled a bit with the hand placement on her waist.

"I had a few drinks this morning," he said, lying incredibly badly at the moment. "So I'm sort of wobbly."

Daisy well knew the difference between a drunken pawing and a nervous one, but she wasn't going to point it out, since she didn't much mind. Instead, she just laughed, said it was all right, and added, "That explains the decorating quite a bit. I wouldn't want to hold you back at all, so you just go ahead and change it, if you find it, and I can find something else to help with next time."

"Sounds good," he said and finally got his hand to settle the fuck down. He wasn't some damn teenager so the fumbling was irritating. "All right, think I'm good. You gonna lead, Detec--not on duty. Ma'am? Uh. Miss?"

[Fleeeing to second shot of work! Back soon!]

"Daisy's fine," she grinned, feeling extremely pleased by the catch and the attempt to fix it. Her relief at finally having something make a clear distinction between the two almost allowed her to work with the actual beat of the Christmas music for a moment or two. "But I thought the gentleman's supposed to lead?"

"The gentleman's trying to remember how to do this," he said apologetically and just finally looked down at his stupid feet. "Nice shoes."

Idle remarks made it easy to stall. And he kept staring at his shoes as he tried to get his long lost rhythm back.

"Oh, thank you," Daisy chuckled a little. "Standard issue policewomen's shoes, size seven and a half, but they are quite sharp, aren't they?"

"Very snazzy," he said, nodding. "If I were a woman and had smaller feet, I'd want a pair. As I am not a woman nor do I have small feet, I'll stick with what I have."

For all that he could talk, he was having a little trouble getting started with the dancing.

"No teasing if I step on your shoes," he said and actually did start to move. Slowly. And in stutter steps.

"They're tough shoes," Daisy said, as she started to move with Loki, at his pace, grinning a bit, "they can take it. Here was starting to worry maybe you couldn't move, there."

"Perfection takes time," he said, trying to keep up his cocky swagger whilst staring at his feet. "And I'm an excellent mover. And shaker. I'm just a little out of my element."

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