Hello, my fellow shippers. First Johnlock story, whoop whoop. It's an AU, which just so happens to be my specialty. This story is set in the Marvel Mutant Universe, exciting, huh?

Warnings (why are they called warnings? It's why you read it) : Eventual!Johnlock, Mutant!Sherlock, A bit of violence in later chapters, A bit of angst (but who doesn't love a bit of angst every once and a while?) and, if you're all good and Review, smut in the later chapters.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything apart from the plot. Although I wish I could own Sherlock *flails*

I must also tell you, my right hand is in a cast atm, I have a suspected fractured hand. Sex sent me to the ER, eh, ha ha, but no seriously, my typing skills are very limited at the moment so I apologize if I am slow in updating.

Anyway, enjoy peeps!

CH 1/10

Click.

"Get down!" Sherlock shouted to his shorter friend as he leaped out of the way of the thrown grenade.

John quickly followed suit, throwing himself inbetween two of the many shipping containers in the docks, covering his ears and waiting for the explosion.

It never came.

John was about to get up, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Sherlock. "Stay down" He breathed, "It's a dummy grenade, they are ready to shoot when we reappear"

"How do you-"John hissed as Sherlock rolled his eyes and interrupted.

"Not the time, John. We need to get out of here, Lestrade just called the backup to come in"

John stared at his ridiculous friend in disbelief, before being snapped back to the present by the sound of sirens.
Sherlock jumped up, grabbing John and hauling him to his feet before taking off at a run directly towards the back-up cars, hearing the clatter of guns start behind them. Once they were behind the safety of one of the cars, Sherlock immediately spoke up.

"Some of them are mutants, all with low level powers but can still be dangerous"

One of the police officers listening nodded and began relaying the information to everyone else and, within half an hour, the drug smugglers had been taken down and Sherlock and John were in –much to the detective's annoyance- Mycroft's car getting told off like a pair of school kids.

"How could you be so stupid, Sherlock?!" Mycroft was stressing at his little brother, who was by the open window, a lit cigarette between his lips – only being used to annoy Mycroft- and was doing his best to ignore him. "You had no idea how many mutants were in that gang, you could have been killed"

"But I wasn't" Sherlock argued, finally deciding to talk. He took a drag of his cigarette and deliberately blew the smoke into Mycroft's face as John tried his best not to laugh.

"This isn't funny, Sherlock" Mycroft said, after he'd recovered, to the smirking detective. "I told you specifically not to go into there alone because they were dangerous and you went against my orders"

"Like Sherlock ever listened to you anyway" John muttered with a chuckle, but quickly sobered up at the glare Mycroft threw his way, "Sorry"

Mycroft sniffed and looked between the two men, "It seems you both are blind to the seriousness of the situation" He said as the car stopped outside 221. "At least you weren't shot, or worse, kidnapped. Now go"

John scoffed, "Alright, Hermione" He muttered under his breath as he exited the car, making Sherlock chuckle.

They unlocked the door and walked up the stairs to their living room in comfortable silence. A nod was the only thing needed to let John know Sherlock wanted tea and went to put the kettle on. Sherlock settled in his chair, putting his hands together under his chin. It was their norm.

That was until John decided to break the silence.

"How did you know that was a dummy grenade back there?" He asked, walking over and leaning on the back of his chair, awaiting his friend's answer.

Sherlock immediately froze. To anyone else but John, Sherlock looked unresponsive, but to John, Sherlock was internally panicking.

It took the detective a few seconds to respond. He cleared his throat and looked away, "Simple observation. It was obviously a dummy"

John didn't believe a word, "You forget, Sherlock, that I served in Afghanistan and know the difference between a real and dummy grenade. You couldn't have known that fast. You hardly looked at the thing"

"Well, I must not be as blind as you"

"Sherlock" John sighed, looking down momentarily, cooling his growing annoyance, "Don't treat me like I'm stupid-"

"You ar-"

"Stop it" John said, using his military voice knowing it would shut his best friend up.

It worked for 10 seconds.

"I just knew it was a dummy. I don't have to explain myself to you, John"

"That's the thing" John replied in disbelief, "You always have to explain yourself, but when I ask a simple innocent question, you become defensive!"

Sherlock pressed his lips into a pout and John knew exactly where this was going.

"Don't you dare go all stroppy on me"

"I'm not in a strop, John"

"Oh, please. You're basically a 16-year-old teenager being denied to go to a party by their parents"

Sherlock shuffled in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not in a strop" he muttered and John knew that that were the last words he'd get out of Sherlock that night.

The doctor couldn't believe how Sherlock could go from a professional, emotionless detective to a stroppy, hormone fueled teenager in the space of 30 seconds.

Sighing as Sherlock curled more into himself, John walked over to the door and grabbed his coat, making for the dark streets of London to cool his temper.