III.I

It was absolutely ridiculous how hot London had been this summer. Sherlock rarely ever concerned himself with the surrounding weather, typically associating its level of necessity with the solar system. But with 221b's air conditioner on the fritz, even the detective felt himself wilting in the heat. To add onto his concerns, he was ninety-nine percent certain Loki actually was melting in his perch by the A/C. Since the ridiculous heat wave had begun, the mischief god had kept himself to one of three places: in front of the A/C, head in the refrigerator, or taking private ice bathes (despite Sherlock's best efforts.) Seeing Loki so affected by such a normal thing was quite worrisome.

Right now, the god was stripped down to a pair of black shorts, which he had probably stolen from Sherlock's dresser, and nursing a glass of ice water. "How in the world are you not burnt by the damned heat, Sherlock?" Said detective was sitting across from him on his laptop, working on his current case. The only visible sign he was affected by the heat was his rolled up sleeves and two buttons left undone. Which of course Loki took ample time to appreciate. " Surely, other criminals are too busy melting to commit any crimes."

"Crime never sleeps, Loki. Besides you're too much of a puddle to be of any entertainment to me."

"You are here to entertain me, mortal. Not the other way around…" The raven haired trickster kicked at the A/C as it began to fizz off and on again. "Damned contraption!"

"Abusing the A/C won't make it work and better. On the contrary, it's more likely to stop working altogether."

"Shut up, Sherlock." Sherlock closed his laptop and rested his chin on steeple fingers, studying his melting immortal. Loki's normally pale complexion was flushed pink from the heat and glistened with a fine sheen of sweat. It was only eleven AM. The heat had yet to reach its height yet Loki acted as though he was trapped in the Sahara. For the first time since they had begun dating, Sherlock was very worried for Loki's health.

"Perhaps I should call John to check on you. I'm sure he can-"

"I do not need 'checked on.' I just need a properly functioning cooling system."

"Loki, you're-"

"No, Sherlock. I do not need help from your precious sidekick." The detective huffed in annoyance, well aware arguing with Loki in his current state was pointless. That was like John trying to argue with him. Futile.

"Fine. Continue to melt. Just don't make a mess of the rug. Mrs. Hudson just got it cleaned." As the god gave his mortal an extremely rude gesture (or possibly invitation), Sherlock's phone pinged, alerting him to a text message. Sherlock checked it on his way to the freezer, rolling his eyes as he packed a towel with ice. It was just John telling him things he already figured out about the case. "I have to go to the morgue. I need to borrow a cadaver from Molly."

"Do NOT bring another dead body into this house. I'll not have any corpses fouling up the air of our home."

"Oh, fine… I'll leave it at the morgue… But only if I don't come home to find you a puddle on the floor. And you do not kill the landlady." Sherlock pressed the homemade ice pack to Loki's neck, making the god jolt away from him. "Relax. This will help you cool down. And the ice is wrapped in a towel so it shouldn't affect your allergy."

The Trickster eyed the ice pack with distrust before taking it from his lover, holding it to his neck. "I do not require a babysitter, Sherlock."

"I am well aware of that. However, you're too hot to move and you will have to eat eventually. And I thought you liked Mrs. Hudson."

"Not as a babysitter. I am fine."

"Tell that to your burning skin, love," Sherlock remarked as he felt Loki's forehead, quickly withdrawing his hand back with a hiss. "I'm fairly certain you may combust any minute." The god glared at him, emerald eyes darkening with annoyance. "Loki, please just… put up with having a babysitter so I can work. It's hard to focus on criminals when there's a chance I'll have to mop you back up when I return. And it would be so rude of me to not give them my full attention." That earned a chuckle out of the Trickster god, easing a little concern off Sherlock's shoulders.

"Fine. But you will make it up to me when you return home."

"Oh of course. But I'm not kneeling for you," the detective snarked as he pulled on his coat. Loki chuckled darkly, earning a curious look from Sherlock. Big mistake.

Loki was currently dragging the ice pack down his neck and chest in what was a blatantly seductive manner, tilting his head back and lazily closing his eyes. "In the end… you will always kneel…" It was Sherlock's turn to be flushed pink, but it wasn't from the sun's heat.

"Keep! Ahem. Keep telling yourself that, Princess." Sherlock leaned in to give Loki a quick goodbye peck. The sweating God of Mischief had other plans, grabbing his detective's head to pull him into a passionate drawn out kiss. "MMPH! Loki!" Sherlock certainly enjoyed his lover's Silvertongue every now and then but no when he had an important case to attend to. "I… Unf… I have to go!"

"No. Mine. Stay."

"I've got a case!"

"The stiff can wait."

"Your lips are turning blue?" Loki did pause in his attempts for some snogging time at that, brows knitting together in confusion. "You weren't wearing blue lipstick earlier were you…" Sherlock's observation made the god's eyes widen and his cover fly to his bluing mouth. "Loki, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just be home soon." With that, Loki bolted towards his room, leaving behind a very confused Sherlock.

- Burdened with Glorious Deductions - -

"Ha! This proves he was lying!"

"What does?"

"Oh, John, can't you see it?"

"All I see are bruises from you beating the sorry bloke to death. Again."

"No, no, no! Look at the pattern! The pattern!"

"Sherlock, I'm not you. You have to at least give a hint at what I'm looking at." Sherlock half sighed half huffed at him, glaring daggers through John's forehead. John met his gaze head on, completely unimpressed by the glare. He had been on the receiving end enough times to not care anymore. "Besides it's hard to tell what you're thinking when you're muttering about blue lipstick."

"Wait, what?"

"You were mumbling about Loki wearing blue lipstick while you were beating up this body. At least, I think that was what you were saying." Sherlock sighed again as he closed his magnifying glass, this time more out of resigned concern. "Sherlock. What's wrong with Loki? Is it the heat?"

"I believe so," Sherlock admitted after a beat. "It's affecting him much harsher than it would you or me but, of course, he won't let anyone help him."

"Well, he isn't exactly human. Maybe Asgardians just don't handle heat very well. I'm sure it's nothing."

"I don't think this is an 'Asgardian thing,' John. His skin was turning blue."

"Blue?"

"Yes, blue."

"Why would he turn blue? That usually means someone's very cold. Not something you'd expect in this heat wave."

"Well as you said, he's not exactly human."

"Good point."

"So far, I haven't found anything in the myths that's useful. Well one but it's highly unlikely to be true."

"I thought we stopped trusting myths after the uh… Horse Fiasco?"

"I just learned to take them with a grain of salt. There is some truth to the myths. Loki told me so himself."

"Good point. Again. I would hope he knew which myths weren't true."

"Um, boys…?" The pair turned to find Molly standing in the doorway, holding a phone out to Sherlock. "Sorry to interrupt but its Mrs. Hudson. I thought you'd want to take it."

"Thank you, Molly." Sherlock had to take a double take as he received the jabbering phone. "You're wearing makeup. You weren't wearing that a second ago."

"Oh, just… testing it out." John shook his head as Sherlock finally answered the phone. "So, he and Loki have a fight?" Molly asked, nodding to the now black and blue body.

"Nope. Believe it or not, Sherlock is… worried!"

"What's wrong with Loki?"

"How did you know it was Loki?"

"Well… You're standing here. You and Loki are the only two he would get panicked about." When John stared at her incredulously, she admitted, "And Mrs. Hudson said it was about Loki."

"Oh. That makes much more sense."

"John, we need to go. NOW." Both John and Molly jumped about a foot in the air at the sharp panic cutting through Sherlock's usual calm. Before they had a chance to actually ask what's wrong, the consulting detective was already speeding out the door, causing John and Molly to rush after him.