Just a short drabble which I may or may not continue (I have my other fics to worry about) and dedicated to the saint who is A Pirate By Any Other Name. I hope you like this, darling!
John Watson had, by the course of the years he lived with Sherlock Holmes, decided that whatever the state of the flat was by the time he came home from the clinic, he would not be surprised. No, the time when he came home to find every square inch of the flat covered in feathers for "an experiment, John." Nor the time Sherlock had spent the whole day with John's stethoscope glued to the walls, listening to the movements of the mouse which had made its home there.
Let's not even go on about the absurd clientele Sherlock received on a daily basis.
But nothing could have prepared him for the 'clientele' he walked in on one day which had been going rather normally.
"Welcome back, John. Tea?" Sherlock said languidly, wearing pajamas and sprawled on his armchair. John couldn't greet him back, because he was currently being glared at by African American with an eye patch (Eye patch? Who wears an eye patch?) and wearing all black. There was another man with deep green eyes, who seemed to share Sherlock's air of supreme nonchalance and high cheekbones. This man had an even more absurd taste in clothing than the other, wearing black and green leather, gold armor and had his long black hair slicked back.
It took John's temporarily shorted out synapses a moment to make the connection.
"Yes, John," Sherlock drawled as the green eyed man raised an eyebrow at John, "This is Loki."
"You will address me with respect, mortal." Loki said, and Director Fury, for it was he, pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am a centuries old immortal God from-"
"He also suffers from inferiority complex," Sherlock said, "Presumably from being slighted from an early age."
The air around Loki suddenly seemed charged and John was gripped with the probably not irrational fear. Director Fury stepped in before Loki could do anything, "We have been here long enough, Mr. Holmes. I wouldn't even be here if your brother didn't think you could be of some…use."
"This mortal doesn't know anything." Loki hissed, "I fail to see why I must waste-"
"Thanos is coming to get you, Loki, and he will shred our planet to pieces if he has to. Now shut up like a good little banished prince and let the grown ups talk."
"Right," Loki said dangerously, "I think it would do to remind you that while I may have lost my powers, I still retain some magic to snap your necks."
John wished he had his gun.
Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"What exactly are we waiting for?" Fury said again, acting as if Loki hadn't spoken.
"An old friend." Sherlock said, "You might as well sit down, John, I have no idea when he will arrive. He never really was punct-"
There was a loud mechanical grinding noise, loud enough for John and Fury to cover their ears, and John could help the yell that escaped from him as a blue police phonebox materialized in front of the window, directly next to were Fury was sitting on the sofa, who swore loudly.
Only Loki and Sherlock, sitting in front of the fireplace, long legs crossed, seemed unperturbed.
"This is your plan?" Loki said as the grinding died down, "Bring in some lunatic who travels around in that contraption?"
"I object to that, this is not some contraption and I'm not a- okay fine, I'll not refute you on that."
John nearly fell out of his chair as the door opened and an young man, possibly not more than thirty, wearing a tweed jacket, bowtie and suspenders, came out.
"Ah hello hello, Sherlock! Look at you all grown up!" The man said, ignoring Fury, who had jumped up, and bounced over to Sherlock.
"It's been twelve years, Doctor." Sherlock drawled as he stood up.
"Yes, well, time flies…For you, not for me." He turned to the other occupants of the room, "Hello, I'm the Doctor, don't suppose Sherlock has-" His gaze fell on Loki. "Ah. An Asgardian."
Loki stiffened, evidently not used to men in phone-boxes calling him by species.
"Oh no, wait. Not Asgardian. Good Lord, you're a Frost Giant."
Loki scrambled up and in a flash, had his scepter in his hand. "Mortal," He hissed at the Doctor as Fury immediately cocked his gun, while John ran upstairs to get his, "You will do well to-"
"Put the gun down, Fury," The Doctor said without turning around, "And you too, John- that's your name, isn't it?"
None of the men said so, and the Doctor sighed, Loki's scepter still poking into his chest. Sherlock picked up his violin and plucked at the strings, seemingly disinterested.
"I'm asking you nicely." The Doctor said again, and John could feel the absolute power resonating from the tone, even if the young man had an angelic smile on his face, "Put the weapons down."
Even Loki lowered his scepter immediately.
"Now then. Director Fury, isn't it? I never liked you. You use violence way to much to be healthy-"
"Excuse me-"
"And," He continued, cutting across the Director of SHIELD, "I'm not a human, Loki. I'm from a race far older than yours."
"Don't be ridiculous," Loki snorted, "The only other race older than the Asgardians and the Frost Giants are the TimeLords and they are all- By the beard of Odin, you-?"
The Doctor smiled and looked at John, "Ahh, John, tea? A bit Arthur Dent of me, not to be able to go into this no doubt save the world conferences without tea."
John didn't even notice Sherlock's smirk as he numbly walked to the kitchen, a God, a Time Lord, the Director of one of the most powerful military organizations in the world, and the World's Only Consulting Detective in his living room.
His only hope was that Sherlock wouldn't piss them off. Mycroft wouldn't be best pleased if there was an intergalactic clash, other than the one supposedly hurtlng towards them at the moment. While he made tea for an alien.
Definitely not a normal day.
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Adi xoxoxo
