#avengerlock

Shertasha AU: A Couple of Master Assassins

Loki & sherlock have a chance meeting. A dance off ensues

"How about that lady who came last week about her missing cat?"

"Boring."

"The man who thinks his wife is secretly dating the Prime Minister?"

"She's not. She is, however, secretly dating his brother. Also boring."

John sighed into his notebook and flipped it shut. "Well that's it, that's the list." He did have to agree with Sherlock, the cases recently seemed ridiculously trivial. But to be honest, going out to find some woman's lost cat seemed much more appealing to him than sitting for any longer in the flat. At least there'd be fresh air.

"Why is nobody being murdered?" Sherlock said, more than a hint of frustration in his voice. He threw himself down onto the sofa, feet hanging over the end, and began searching the blank ceiling for interesting cases. "Where have all of England's criminals gone? John?"

When Sherlock turned back to look at him, John had moved. Instead of in his chair across the room, where he had been all day except for getting up once to make tea, he was now gawking out of the window as if he'd just seen a corpse miraculously come back to life outside on the pavement. 

"Sherlock, I think we've got a case." he said quietly. Curiously, the consulting detective sprung up and swept across the room until he was beside John, peering out onto Baker Street. A few seconds passed before a wide, knowing smile broke onto his face.

"John, get me my coat."

                                                       ***

John paced around the hammer, squinting at it, taking it in from all angles as Sherlock knelt down to examine it in more detail. He traced his fingers over the intricate carvings delicately, occasionally muttering to himself in admiration. 

"Is it really what I think it is?" asked John after completing a third lap of it.

Sherlock nodded. "I think s-"

"Yes, it is." The new voice was cold, and it was possible to hear the amused smirk in it. "Mjölnir. Such a famous artefact, how exciting." 

The pair of them spun around to locate the source of the voice. John wished he didn't feel so much like a schoolboy caught misbehaving. 

Standing a few feet away from them was a tall man in the most ridiculous outfit John had ever seen, complete with a golden horned helmet and long, emerald-green cape. His sleek, black hair framed his cheekbones in a way that rivalled even Sherlock's bone structure. Although John had never seen him before, he could guess who he was.

"Loki." Sherlock greeting the newcomer pleasantly. "It's been a long time."

"Yes," Loki shrugged, "What can I say, I've been busy."

"Where's your brother?"

"Well, I assumed somewhere around here."

Loki gestured generally to their surroundings and sighed. The three stood around for a moment in silence, scanning down the road for any sign of another huge, cape-wearing god wandering around that part of London in search of his hammer. When the silence was beginning to drag on, deeply confused, John cleared his throat. Loki and Sherlock looked down at him, eyebrows raised, as if they'd forgotten he was there.

"Yeah, hi, I'm John Watson, and-"

"Ah, yes." Loki smirked again, "Sherlock's told me a lot about you."

John felt the tips of his ears warming up. He exhaled slowly in an attempt to stop the flush spreading across to his cheeks. 

"It doesn't surprise me." he mumbled, before continuing, "Anyway, I'm just confused as to how exactly you two know each other?"

Loki and Sherlock exchanged a brief look. 

"Perhaps we should take this inside." Sherlock suggested. 

                                                      ***

"... And then he just blows the whole thing up!'

"Yeah! Boom!' Loki threw his hands apart to recreate the action of the explosion, knocking over an empty wine bottle as he did so. He and Sherlock dissolved into a fit of hysterical giggles. 

"Just like that, yeah." Sherlock wheezed, draining his glass for the god-knows-how-many-th time. "And that's basically the -hic- story."

John stared at the pair of them, his mouth hanging open slightly. He'd been sitting in that position for so long now he wondered if he'd be able to move out of it ever again. "Wow."

In unison, Loki and Sherlock sighed. "Yeah..."

Through the radio, which they had turned up to an indecently loud volume for such a late time at night, came the sound of yet another monotonous disco dance track. John's head pulsed in time with the beat and he groaned.

Noticing this, Loki grinned ecstatically. "Dance off?" He asked Sherlock, who was already clambering drunkenly out of his chair to join the trickster god in the middle of the room.

"Let's go. John's the judge."

Loki climbed onto the sofa and began to jump up and down, humming with the music. Sherlock clapped happily. 

"This is a jumpy dance. It's very springy." Loki informed them. John held up five fingers as a score.

"Whatever. My turn." Slurred Sherlock. He began to bring his hands, poised like monster claws, up and down repeatedly in a 'Thriller' inspired dance, looking over to John for approval. He frowned when all he received was a four.

Loki laughed. "Is that the only dance move you know?"

"Well, I also know some ballet..." To prove this Sherlock attempted a pirouette, but fell over halfway through. Loki giggled in triumph, and suddenly there were six of him all dancing at the same time.He pointed to each in turn, naming the dance for John, who was having the time of his life despite the thumping headache.

"Snake hips, robot, vogue, pop n' lock, gagnam style..."

When the song finished, John applauded heartily. Sherlock groaned in defeat from the floor. 

"I'll win... next time.." He managed, before falling asleep at Loki's feet.

"You say that every time." Loki mumbled. "But we'll see."

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yo so thanks for this prompt! :D I really enjoyed it

Generally speaking, Sherlock didn't get involved with large organizations such as government run offices. 

He preferred to keep to himself, only combing through the cases that he found interesting and, usually, that kept him in or around London. Once in a while, he would travel to another country but that would almost always be within Europe. For him to travel more than a few hours by automobile or plane, it would have to be an extremely interesting case, something that might hold his attention for days, weeks even.

Needless to say, those type of cases didn't actually come up all that often, so he didn't do a terribly large amount of traveling for work and he was almost always in England.

When he first got the call from S.H.I.E.L.D., he had been inclined to say no. He knew of the incident in New York. Everyone knew of that incident, but he didn't find it terribly interesting. It sparked a bit of a need to learn more about the universe outside of Earth's atmosphere simply because it was no longer irrelevant, but other than that? The things that the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. dealt with were not the kind of work that Sherlock dwelled in. It wasn't terribly investigative and it was often a violent line of work, better fitted for someone who carried a gun and was actually prepared to kill anyone at any time. Sherlock was, obviously, rather skilled in self defense and he could actually hold his own in a fight, but he was not a killer.  He was not a government agent.

The only thing that made him agree to the case was that it had so much potential. Serial killers were always fun if they knew what they were doing and this serial killer was no ordinary serial killer. By definition, he shouldn't be able to exist. A murder would take place in New York City and four hours later a murder with the exact same M.O. would take place in Moscow. How would anyone be able to get from New York City to Moscow in four hours? There was a possibility that there was more than one killer, that would be the most obvious answer, but S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed to believe differently. An intergalactic serial killer. How could Sherlock resist?

Once he arrived in the states, he was greeted by the director of the program himself, Nick Fury, and taken to base where he was issued an I.D. card that would allow him entry and access to the building and their database. There were, of course, restrictions, but if Sherlock really need access to something, he would get it with or without clearance.