John followed Mycroft into the small coffee shop on the street corner. It was an untidy, unpopular little place that Mycroft had chosen, much to John's shock. His thoughts were darting around his head at an alarming rate, constantly worrying about Sherlock, the fate of London, whether he had left the TV on. This new bit of information, Mycroft in a disgusting little café, was barely a blimp in his thought process; he could only imagine what Sherlock would think. John came back to the present, noticing that Mycroft had been talking to him already.

"…grave situation. But we have our best people working on it, needless to say various 'superheroes' are being notified and asked for their assistance. I'm only telling you this because you are aware of what happened in that flat, anything you have on this…being…would be very useful."

"Wait…superheroes? Those don't exist, Mycroft, surely you of all people would know that."

Mycroft smiled grimly. He had noticed straight away that John was distracted, far too distracted to be of any help in this situation. But Sherlock, should he come out of his strange hypnosis, would not be pleased if John turned into a raving lunatic in his absence. Mycroft cared little for John Watson, but perhaps his connection to Sherlock would be useful bait.

"Yes, John. The American government thinks we know nothing about them, but we have our sources, the bits of leaked information by the media. Something about a green giant and several assassins. We have their pressure points, I'm sure they can be...persuaded…to help our country out."

John nodded dumbly. Superheroes, of course. His thoughts ran back to Sherlock, smiling at the detective's face when John tells him of this absurd notion Mycroft had cooked up. Never mind, everything can be explained, they're probably just actors or people with interesting talents. John often found himself thinking like Sherlock when alone, Sherlock won't be there to think for him all the time. His thoughts of Sherlock blocked out Mycroft's ramblings, he would save his friend…somehow. With or without the help of the British government and these so-called "superheroes."

XxXxX

Sherlock was fiddling with the Tesseract, attaching various wires and plugs to the computer. His silence was unnatural, but Sherlock was never prone to humming while he worked. Loki stared at the detective from his place in the shadows, unconscionably admiring his determination and dedication of his minion. Loki told himself he was just making sure the human didn't try anything to disrupt his plans, and he had the perfect leverage to ensure this. Even as Holmes worked, the next best brain in Midguard was currently spying on John Watson, sending important messages to Loki when required. This man he had had been hard to acquire, he was sneaky and sure of himself. Even after Loki's staff had done its work, he had proven to be unpredictable and cunning. Sherlock was just section of his plan, he had only a small part. What Loki needed was someone, a little more like himself. Someone willing to kill to prove a point.

The detective heard Loki long before he saw him, but it was important to provide the god with some kind of reassurance that he was smarter than Sherlock. Sherlock didn't care what Loki thought, he just wanted the case. The case of the green man with the golden staff. The case of a genius with the problem of complete and utter stupidity. And he wanted to see what this blue box did. His concern for the safety of London had disappeared after his encounter with Loki's staff. He wasn't the hero, he never wanted to be. Now, he could do that he liked. And who could possibly stop him?

"John Watson. What is John Watson to you, great detective?" Loki had stepped out of his hiding place, his cape flowing behind him as he calmly walked towards Sherlock. He knew what to do with him now, he knew what his weakness was. And Loki was prepared to exploit it completely.

"My flatmate. A friend. A man who knows nothing new in this world, nor anything of the next. An idiot not worth bothering with."

Sherlock's smooth answer did not come as a surprise to Loki and his evil grin spread across his handsome face. His source had given him so much information, useful information that even Sherlock Holmes could not know.

"Oh I think he is very much worth bothering, Mr Holmes. You claim carelessness with this man, but you are prepared to do anything for him. How incredibly sentimental of a 'high functioning sociopath.'"

Sherlock blinked, starting slightly at his self-proclaimed title. How would he know that phrase? Who could have possible told him that…?

"Shheeerrloooock...miss me?"

Hey peoples . Sorry about the long wait, I tried to come up with something decent. Sooo many people are following this story and I didn't want to disappoint anyone. I feel like this story is getting steadily worse but I'll try to make it as good as I can. I love the fact that so many of you seem to be enjoying it like I'm enjoying writing it. I changed to title because I never liked the previous one. I hope it doesn't confuse anyone.

Also, sorry the writing style changes sometimes, I noticed that last chapter. I now put "XxXxX" to separate character paragraphs (or place paragraphs, whichever seems right at the time) so that should make it a little less confusing (hopefully). Thank you for reading and Much Loves. xx