Disclaimer: As usual, still not my stuff.

Sherlock sat in silence, his hands clasped beneath his chin as he allowed the persistent hum of the helicopter wash over him. Sat jauntily across from him was Captain 'call me Jack' Harkness, who to Sherlock's discomfort kept giving him appraising glances when he thought he wasn't being watched. He hadn't been told where they were going, although it didn't take long to figure out that they were heading towards the United States, probably to stop somewhere near the East Coast; as if blacked out windows were of any use at all.

The awkward quiet that had formed had its benefits; having one's entire belief system torn down and trampled over tended to call for a major mental reshuffling, and possessing one of Britain's greatest minds made the process even more strenuous.

Aliens, Sherlock couldn't even halt the derision in his internal monologue, of course they exist-those stories about Wi-Fi going mad, and whatever other spiel the government has been selling are obviously complete rubbish…but to have the proof thrust upon me in such a way.

Then again, the first few times they'd been invaded, Sherlock had honestly thought they were drug fuelled hallucinations; it was a shock when the BBC had shown a memorial story on the news the next year.

And to top it all off, the ridiculous man opposite him, who apparently couldn't separate his Id from his daily functioning, had been the head of the most secret of organisations regarding home-world security, and was immortal; the reports and pictures proved as much. What a waste…

But…if it would save John…Sherlock could endure. He had rearranged his heart for the man, surely it was of next to nothing to rearrange his mind. Nothing else could have persuaded him to board a vehicle on the promise of meeting some 'extraordinary people'. He'd read the files he'd been handed shortly after leaving Mycroft's office, and had openly scoffed at the idea of these 'super-heroes'.

"We've landed." Jack's suave voice jolted Sherlock from his reverie.

"Clues to that being the eerie absence of rotor noise and the men hurrying to open the doors." Sherlock replied caustically, reaching down to unfasten his restraints. Jack rolled his eyes and slid from the helicopter with only a swift 'whatever you say'. Sherlock smirked; if one good thing had come from their enforced time together, it was that physicality aside, Jack couldn't stand him.

Sherlock stood beside Jack, willing to admit for once that he was impressed. Upon climbing from the helicopter, the last thing he had expected had been SHIELD's helicarrier. In fact, on a scale from airfield to underwater lair, this came very high. The miniature runways were teeming with agents, flittering back and forth, strapping down the recently discarded helicopter as the two passengers peered over the edge at the rippling ocean below, their long coats billowing in the wind.

"Well…this sure puts the Valiant in its place." Jack noted with an impressed whistle. Sherlock didn't bother to ask what the Valiant was; it was of no importance.

"I suppose it's of no surprise that the American government has this kind of technology." He commented disdainfully, before adding with a sideways glance at Jack "Especially considering what the British one has been covering up."

Jack grinned, clearly pleased that Sherlock was finally talking to him again, or at the acknowledgement that he had managed to wrong-foot the detective.

"Yeah, I suppose I should quote Shakespeare right about now, but you'd probably correct the reference." He laughed, elbowing Sherlock in the ribs in what he could only assume was a friendly gesture.

"I admire the sense of humour of whoever designed it." Sherlock remarked, his eyes focusing in on the helicarrier itself as he turned away from the ocean view. Jack looked momentarily confused.

"You've lost me, Sherlock."

Sherlock smirked and let out the first genuine huff of amusement since he had discovered that John was missing. He pointed towards the engine rotor, gesturing for Jack to look closely.

"That runway leads directly into the rotor," he explained, "If the pilots miss the landing or the take-off, they'll most likely be torn to shreds. Someone with the intelligence to design this ship would never have made such a fatal planning error."

Jack made a noise half-way between a laugh and a gasp, as if he wasn't sure whether to join in Sherlock's strange amusement, or be worried by it. He didn't have time to comment though, as Sherlock turned away from him, striding across the tarmac towards the red-headed woman making her way in their direction.

"You're not in charge, you're just an agent, but you are of significant standing here. The fact that you're escorting us means that this case is far greater than I thought." Sherlock deduced emotionlessly, scanning the woman, whose only reaction was to quirk her eyebrow at him, "So tell me: what's going on?"

"Mr Holmes…I was told you'd do that; although to be fair, they said you'd tear out my deepest darkest secrets and throw them in my face, so I suppose I should thank you for being kind." The woman replied, and Sherlock could have sworn she was hiding amusement; her eyes had definitely gained a cheerful twinkle. Jack stepped forward, his hand extended.

"Captain Jack Harkness…Hello…" He drawled, taking the woman's hand when she didn't respond in likeness and placing a kiss upon it, "And who are you?"

Her hand was pulled away sharply.

"Agent Natasha Romanoff, and I'm kinda preferring the fake sociopath right now."

Jack's 'really?' was almost drowned out by Sherlock's simultaneous 'fake!?'

"Really." Natasha replied smoothly, before turning on her heel and gesturing for the two men to follow her lead, "Come on; there's some people I think you're going to like Mr Holmes."

A quick introduction to Nick Fury, who Sherlock had deemed boring and swept past onto the Bridge, had been followed by the entrance of each of the Avengers (those that were left), all of which Jack had ogled appraisingly and attempted to flirt with. Tony had been the only one to flirt back, but that had stopped the moment Steve entered the room. Sherlock watched this all happen in silence, standing back as he tried to deduce them; but there was too much information, and information that was an extremely long way out of his comfort zone. Yes, he had read the files, but nothing compared to having the facts sing from the people's presence.

There was the tall blonde man with more muscles than Sherlock had ever seen, who introduced himself as 'Thor of Asgard', and explained in booming tones (for the sake of the 'new mortal' that he was a god from another realm, and that it was of the greatest honour and shame that they should work together to find their lost ones. Sherlock wasn't overly fond of him, but he didn't seem to care when he noted where Thor had spent the last few months, or commented on his family issues, but had merely laughed joyfully and announced that the small man was on par with Asgard's best prophets; there was always room for niceties when an idiot appreciated his genius.

'Captain America', or Steve, as he asked to be called, was pleasant; not overly bright, but not stupid, and he too had been friendly, if not visibly unnerved at Sherlock's snappy account of his life. Again, Sherlock could stand the man, but decided to make an effort not to spend large amounts of time with him.

The scientist however! Bruce had sidled up to him as Sherlock had remained statuesque off to the edge, and Sherlock had found himself so interested, that rather than ask about his living conditions, or his, well…condition, he had enquired as to what field of science he was an expert in. A man that understood chemistry, physics, and biology; large green monster that threw every assumption about human anatomy out the window aside, Sherlock was not going to waste having another advanced mind. It was a shame he was so…withdrawn.

Stark had wandered over to Sherlock and appeared to be scanning him in much the same way as Sherlock was him. An engineer and genius; he was definitely the man that had designed the helicarrier. Sherlock actually extended his own hand towards Tony, who looking surprised and gestured towards the others as he shook, appearing almost proud of himself.

"Wow, I feel flattered, I really do, Drac." He remarked as Sherlock withdrew his hand, "You looked almost pained to shake Banner's hand, and I get the impression you liked him."

"You're Tony Stark, genius billionaire, inventor of half of the United State's technology, including this mousetrap of a ship, you have an understanding of science that allowed you to create the 'Iron Man' suit, which looks ridiculous by the way, and discover an entirely new element whist inventing the first truly sustainable green energy." Sherlock replied, as cool as ever, but there was excitement in his eyes and voice, a smile tugging at his lips, "You're one of the few geniuses that nobody dare mock; in fact you're admired. I would be a fool not to shake your hand."

Tony looked shocked for a moment, and actually raised his hand over his chest in a flattered gesture.

"Wow…again with the wow." He said slowly, and then took up Sherlock's hand to shake thoroughly once more, "An actual fan of me rather than the magazine cover. It's nice to meet you…"

"Sherlock."

"Awesome," Tony replied, leading Sherlock towards the meeting table, "You're a detective right?"
Sherlock smirked proudly, folding his arms over his chest as he took a seat between Tony and Bruce.

"That's correct."

Silence fell as Fury marched to the head of the table, dropping a handful of files down. Jack reached forward from his perch between Natasha and Thor, as if to take a look through the files, only to have his hand slapped away.

"To sum up why we're here, so that everybody is up to speed, there have been abductions across the globe now, and they appear to have been performed by the same organisation." Fury explained snappily, as if the entire day had worn down on him until all that remained was a ball of irritation, "Would anyone like to add to that?"

Steve, who had been listening intently, sat to attention, turned in his seat to address the group.

"Whoever it is, is well trained and has a lot of money and resources; this isn't just a round-up of interesting people. We think," he said, looking to Sherlock and Jack, as the others had already discussed it, "that the abductions are all part of a larger plan to lure us in."

"We have yet to work out what the point of this is." Natasha chimed in, nodding gratefully to Steve as he allowed her to take over.

"What else does an enemy desire than to rid himself of those that could prevent him from performing his own schemes?" Thor asked rhetorically, "What they want to do is of far less importance than saving our friends and preventing the opportunity for anything to arise."

"I agree," Bruce raised his pen and waited for all eyes to fall on him, "There's no point looking at the bigger picture until we know who's responsible and where to find them."

"Precisely," Steve continued, "We need a plan of attack."

"I saw who's behind it." Jack called out, clapping his hands to draw attention to himself, "It's some guy named Moriarty. I think the fact that he is supposed to be dead tells us that there's a whole lot more going on here than criminal schemes."

"What do you actually know about this guy?" Natasha asked. Jack began to explain what he knew, whilst the others chipped in at various intervals; Thor mostly to acknowledge his displeasure with the idea that a man had risen from the dead to do…what?.

Sherlock watched the proceedings with his arms folded tightly across his chest, and his head down as his eyes flickered from speaker to speaker. He would never admit it, but he wanted John so much at that moment. This talk of resurrections and super heroes, and secret plots-it was all too overwhelming, too soon after having the world tilt on its axis and throw a chilly bucket of new information at him early that day. John would just stand up and tell them all to stop being ridiculous, that there had to be a more reasonable explanation as this kind of thing didn't happen in real life. But evidence of one's own eyes was evidence, and Sherlock would have rather been blind at that moment than be so far away from Baker Street with all of these strangers. In the midst of the talking and the melding of voices, Tony's voice rang out above the rest.

"What do you think Sherlock? You're smart, surely you've absorbed all this info and have something to add."

Tony's expression was kind, if you looked hard enough, and Sherlock realised that this was an attempt to get him to become a part of the group. The others were waiting for him to talk, and it hit him with a jolt of…gratefulness…that they actually wanted his input, unlike those that would ask for his help and then scorn the fact that he could actually help.

"This sounds like exactly the kind of thing Moriarty would do; he lives-lived, only for entertainment…he's a psychopath, that's the only thing they can really feel." He voiced slowly, for once unsure of what he was saying, "But I saw him die; I saw him put a bullet through his skull."

"That's okay Poirot!" Tony replied, patting Sherlock heartily on the back, "We've seen some freaky-assed things. Casanova, you mentioned something about coming back to life-how feasible is that for this Dr Evil figure?"

Jack shrugged, winking at the mention of Casanova. Steve shifted uncomfortably in his chair and Natasha rolled her eyes.

"It's been done before; Torchwood investigated some stuff, but none were as sustainable as Moriarty's resurrection appears to be." Jack explained when Fury glared from his one good eye and ordered him to stop messing around, "I don't know of anything in particular, but like I said, it has been done. My problem is a once in a universe kinda deal, and I can't see my gorgeous friend managing it again."

"So we're a little clueless," Fury sighed, "Great!"

"Not entirely," Bruce spoke up, "We were able to track down the Tesseract last time Loki was here, so we already have the technology; with three geniuses here, and an expert on all things weird, it shouldn't be difficult to track whatever signal this guy gives off. We just look for strange and dangerous wavelengths and signals, there must be one…I mean, you don't raise the dead without leaving a trace."

Sherlock was almost surprised that he had been included in the genius count, and that it was just assumed that he had a kind enough heart to help when called.

"Raising the dead requires the darkest and most powerful of magics." Thor said gravely, bringing the almost jovial atmosphere crashing to the ground.

"It might just be super creepy science." Tony offered, although his tone wasn't hopeful. Fury stood up, shaking his head.

"Whatever it is, I want it found, and soon." He said sharply, taking care to fix his gaze upon every person at the table, most of whom stared back. Sherlock raised an eyebrow, wondering when these people had assumed that he was part of their team. Of course he would help, but because John needed him, not for the sake of a man in an eye-patch.

Steve had also gotten to his feet as Fury strode towards the front of the Bridge, and he addressed those at the table.

"Okay everybody, let's get to work."

A super long one for everyone this time. I love writing the Avengers, although having them all in one place makes voices very difficult. Also, I couldn't help myself-Sherlock is a fan of Tony (I mean, he's a genius who rather than get mocked, is revered for his talents- everything Sherlock wants)

Hope you're all enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing :-)

Hopefully next chapter should shed some light on the victims...any ideas, or hopes?