Loki was usually pretty good at detecting lies, and he didn't get a hint of Darcy being anything but honest. With him. The God of Lies, Trickery, and Mischief. At least he could understand her distrust of SHIELD and agreed with him that Thor's strong suit wasn't being thinky.
To be absolutely petty, he made the horns on Darcy's head a little longer and golden, so they were a more slender version of his helm. Sadly, it suited her even more than before, so he magicked them away entirely with an exasperated sigh.
"...I require more waffles," he told the waitress as she passed by, and began dousing the last bites with more syrup. He appeared to be ignoring what Darcy had said, until the waitress was well out of earshot. "There is one capable of beating me up, should I once more decide to kill more people than I can bother to count. Or should I hurt you. I am well aware. Let us simply say that things were a bit more complicated, than I imagined they would have been."
There were no apologies. As it was, he didn't realize the the full extent of what he had done, until Thor pointed it out on top of Stark's garish monument to himself. Even then, it was too late to do anything about it. Stabbing Thor with a knife was merely a petty maneuver, since Thor could take a knife to the gut with no life threatening issues to show for it. As for humans? They snapped like twigs in a drought. He couldn’t help it if they were frail. With a few exceptions to that rule, of course.
"I would like to know more about this Hydra you spoke of, at a later time. For the time being? Do tell me, Lady Darcy, if you have taken it upon yourself to act as humanity’s ambassador. Is this to be our goodwill meal, that we are partaking in," he asked, his tone laden with equal parts sarcasm and weariness. "Are you hoping that you might show me what good exists in this world, so that I do not leave it in ruins?"
He took a drink of coffee and suddenly stared down into the cup, like he might have found something that rivaled waffles in terms of tasting good.
Damnable Midgardians, with their appealing cuisine and sassy women. It was almost enough to make Loki mind his manners. Almost. He’d consider it, while he was finishing his coffee.