Bored – a Sherloki Fanfiction

Sherlock was becoming flustered. He hadn't had a case in weeks and he was unbelievably bored. That's when the commotion started.

Loki lay on his couch and sighed. Midgard, he decided, was the most boring realm in existence. He decided to make some mischief, for what else was he good for?

He dressed in his usual Midgardian attire - a black suit and tie with his favourite green striped scarf – and set out.

He strode confidently down London's strange streets before stopping in front of a block of flats. There was one flat that interested him particularly – 221B. He wasn't quite sure why he was drawn to this one specifically… maybe he had read something in the newspapers?

Something told him that the Midgardians in this flat weren't as boring as most. He heard shot go off inside the flat and chuckled softly to himself. Oh, this is going to be fun, he thought.

John wasn't sure which was scarier – the strange man in the kitchen or Sherlock shouting and shooting the wall in his boredom. "No," he muttered quietly to himself, "Definitely the man in the kitchen." Sherlock shooting at the wall was normal.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked the man with raven black hair and pale skin.
"Is that any way to talk to a god?" the man asked with a smirk.

"What are you on about? You're no god." John eyed the man warily. The man's green eyes flashed in amusement.

"No? Are you sure?" he asked smugly, his form rippling. He disappeared and reappeared right beside John, who freaked out so much he nearly punched himself in the face. The man laughed. "Just tell me exactly who you are," muttered John angrily.

The man responded with only a smirk as he disappeared again, this time reappearing at the far side of the room. "Uh, Sherlock?" John called nervously. No answer. The shots were still going off.

John rummaged through the kitchen drawers and produced a knife for self-defence. This only made the man laugh even more insanely.

"I'm so BORED!" shouted Sherlock, shooting maniacally at the wall, every shot hitting the target he had drawn dead in the centre. He must have been shooting for almost half an hour. He threw his gun down in frustration and stormed into the kitchen.

"John, I'm bored! I need a-" he stopped abruptly upon seeing John in the corner with a knife in his hand, and a strange man in the kitchen. "FINALLY, something interesting happens around here!" he laughs in excitement.

"Uh, Sherlock, a little help?" murmured John, just loud enough for him to hear. Sherlock ignored him, his eyes flitting to the stranger. "What is your name?" he asked quietly. "Loki, god of mischief, Prince of Asgard." the man – Loki – replied.

"Swelled ego, hurt pride, trying to impress… Boring." Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"I'M NOT TRYING TO IMPRESS ANYONE, I DON'T NEED TO I'M A GOD!" yelled Loki, unfortunately proving Sherlock's point.

"This boredom is KILLING me," complained Sherlock as he sauntered back into the living room. He sounded rather tired. He picked up his violin and started playing softly. John didn't bother following. "Don't walk away, I'm not done with you yet!" Loki shouted, materialising beside Sherlock.
"Shut up, I'm thinking." Sherlock kept playing, ignorant of Loki's presence. Loki was fuming. "Don't you-" he was cut off by Sherlock playing a louder, faster tune. Suddenly, Sherlock had a thought. "How did you appear beside me? A clever special effect?" he mused.

He stopped playing for a moment to contemplate this. "No," he decided, "though it is the most possible it is also the least likely. It seems I may be forced to use one of the most annoying words in the English language. Magic." He glanced suspiciously over at Loki.

"Loki, Norse god of mischief, adopted son of Odin. Born of Frost giants."
"So even here they know that." Loki murmured.
"It's not common knowledge," sighed Sherlock. He carefully placed his violin down on a chair. "So you're pretty clever," Loki said, looking at him with interest, and taking a step towards him. Sherlock took a cautious step back. "Yes," he said, "I'm a genius."
"Well Sherlock-"
"Holmes."
"What?"
"Sherlock Holmes."

Recognition flickered in Loki's eyes. "So you're the great detective, Sherlock Holmes," he smirked, taking another step towards Sherlock. "Yes. I'm surprised it took you this long. There aren't exactly many Sherlocks around here. How stupid could a god possibly be?" he pondered. Loki ignored him, taking another step forward. Once again, Sherlock took a step back. This continued as they talked. "So, the great Sherlock Holmes is bored… what happened? Ran out of toys to play with, did you?" sneered Loki.
"What exactly do you want?" Sherlock eyed him suspiciously. Once again, Loki ignored him. "Midgardians are usually boring," Loki commented. Another step forward.
"Yes, but not me," Sherlock replied quietly, stepping back. Loki chuckled. "No, not you," he agreed, with yet another step forward. Sherlock stepped back again. "Your accent suggests that you are English, however, you speech patterns dictate a slightly unfamiliar tone," observed Sherlock, "You're trying to erase your past because it weakens you. Sibling rivalry – ah finally something I understand."

Loki wanted to ask the mysterious man what he meant, but he already understood that it was better not too question Sherlock. That's when Loki realised he was attracted to the man. He had no idea why, but something drew him towards Sherlock. He wondered who the man in the kitchen was. "John." Sherlock said, as if reading his mind.
"What?" irritation flickered on Loki's face.
"John. The man in the kitchen is John. My assistant."

Sherlock did not say anything more than that, but there was something in his voice – regret? Disappointment? Bitterness? It was possible Loki would never know. He took another step forward. "He's a little dull for your assistant," he said, with a dangerous note in his voice. Sherlock went to take another step back, only to find he couldn't. He was backed up against the wall, Loki dangerously close. A smirk played on Loki's lips and his eyes sparked with amusement.

Sherlock smiled, with although looked alien on him, also made him about ten times more attractive. Loki was just about to lean forward to kiss him when John walked in. "What the-" he cut himself off. Loki rolled his eyes, not bothering to turn around. Sherlock looked uncomfortable. "Um, Sherlock… what's going on?" John asked.

"Loki was just leaving," Sherlock replied, pushing Loki away from him.

"What-" Loki began, but Sherlock was already starting to lead him to the door, so he just followed tentatively. John watched in disbelief, shaking his head. When they got there, Sherlock stopped.

Loki turned to face him. "Well it was nice meeting you Loki," he said somewhat stiffly, sticking out his hand for Loki to shake. Loki took it, feeling a small piece of paper as their hands met and he smiled.

"It was a pleasure," he chuckled, palming the note. He turned and left. As soon as he got out of John's sight, he took the note out. It read:

Meet me at 221B next Tuesday if convenient. If inconvenient, come anyway.

Loki smiled even wider as he walked back to his flat. Maybe Midgard wasn't so boring after all.