The Beginning
A man in a Westwood suit sat in a small room, bent over a desk, cellphone in one hand, pen in the other.
"I see you're hard at work, there," a soft voice said.
"I'm surprised you got through," the suited man said casually.
"I'm not just any ordinary man."
A slow smile spread across the man at the desk's face. He raised his hand and red dots appeared on the man standing. He spun around in his chair, but his smile melted off his face. There was no man, just dots ricocheting off the wall.
He turned back to his desk, but a voiced called out, "Lasers? Hmm, rather weak for a criminal, don't you think?"
"What-?"
He put his hand up, "I didn't come here to argue. I came to seek alliance. You see I am not an ordinary man. I am the god Loki of Asgard, son of Odin and brother to Thor, the god of thunder."
"If what you say is true, you are a man of power and prestige. Why do you seek my help?"
"You see, I am unfamiliar with this world," Loki said, pacing the room.
"I'm surprised you heard of me."
"Jim Moriarty, the famous consulting criminal. You are the antagonist in the widely known Sherlock story. You create the crimes and he solves them."
"What you say is true. I am a criminal. I have access and you have power. Quite a pair we'd make."
"What do you say then?" the god asked enticingly.
"Maybe it'll be fun. But what's in it for me?"
"I think you'll be quite satisfied with the terms of reward. One word: Sherlock," Loki said, stretching out his hand.
Moriarty smiled and shook it.