VI

(Warning: Spoilers for Maleficent! Read at own risk!)

"Ya know, Loki, I never would have pegged you for a Disney fanboy," Mary noted as the quartet exited the theater, her and John linking arms while Sherlock held Loki's hand close to his side. The group had taken a double date to see Maleficent, per Loki's quite surprising request. The god of mischief in question was currently sporting his pair of 3D glasses atop his Diaval colored hair like they were sunglasses. He had recently developed a strange fascination for the devices. Sherlock had found at least 18 different pairs floating around 221b.

"I'm not."

"He just fancies her for her horns really," John declared, praying Sherlock actually would protect him from the now glaring god. "Well you must like horns since you know your helmet…"

"Frankly, I agree with John. I often fear he has a goat fetish or something of the like," Sherlock interjected, deflecting Loki's glare to himself now.

"My helmet was designed for me, Dr. Watson." John wasn't quite sure if it was a good or bad thing that Loki continued to call him by his title rather than his actual name after all this time. "I was never offered to give input on the shape of my helm. I never saw it a need to change its design and especially after Thor was so embarrassed by his feathers."

"It does look to have a rather convenient shape. Please tell me you've tried to skewer people with it," the good doctor's wife asked, eliciting a concerned look for both her husband and his best friend. That did not go the way John could have possibly expected. Meanwhile, Sherlock imagined Loki pulling bodies off his horned helm in the heat of battle. He found that much more attractive an image than he should have. Loki just laughed.

"You know, Mary, I have never thought of that! Of course, it would be difficult but perhaps…"

"So!" Sherlock desperately needed a subject change for the sake of his pants. "Let me guess, a new DVD for… the collection then?" Sherlock asked, his voice dripping with disdain for the very idea of even owning a DVD collection. To be quite honest, the Detective never paid much attention to the movie. In its defense, he had yet to find a work of fiction that could hold his attention. Unfortunately, Loki seemed infinitely obsessed with it, particularly with the genres of Fantasy like Maleficent and Science Fiction. Thus Baker Street's once nonexistent film collection had grown exponentially since the god's arrival.

"How would you know, Sherlove?" Sherlock chose to tune out John's snickering at Loki's petname. "You spent the movie asleep."

"Or trying to snog Loki," John added.

"That too." The sleuth rolled his eyes. John finally decides to side with Loki over that? "Oh yes. We are most definitely adding that to our collection when it comes out. If you're a good boy, I might even buy one of those dresses you loved so much…" The god smirked as his whispered words sent a blush creeping up his detective's neck and cheekbones. "I think I have a tiara stored away somewhere…" Loki murmured as an afterthought.

"If you don't, I have one you can borrow," Mary offered, much to John's surprise. Yet again.

"Sorry. Mary, are you helping Loki cross dress? I'm pretty sure most dresses can't fit him."

"Well not exactly."

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" By this time, Sherlock seemed to have managed to recompose himself.

"Loki's, ahem, a shapeshifter. He can even change his gender when the whim arises."

"Or Sherlock's whim for that matter. His face was actually quite priceless the first time I switched on him. How I wish I had a camera. Poor thing wasn't sure whether to be shocked or aroused," Loki shared, kissing Sherlock on his pinkened cheek affectionately. "It was quite adorable actually."

"Too much information, Loki," Mary said, hoping to silence the god or just change the subject.

"Way too much," John agreed. Loki simply shrugged; giving his 3D glasses enough of a nudge to slide down to his nose like sunglasses. "You're going to ruin your eyes, Loki."

"God."

"Do gods have 3D glasses in Asgard?"

"Well no."

"Then better to be safe than sorry."

"I do what I want, Dr. Watson." Sherlock rolled his eyes before swiping the god's glasses right off his nose, tucking them into his pocket. Maybe he could sneak it into the trash or a recycling bin later. "Oi!"

"So, the film! What did you think! Besides Loki fancying for her horns," Mary interjected before Loki could say something inappropriate to Sherlock. "We know your opinion, Sherlock. You didn't like it."

"So quick to assume. I thought it was clever for what it was. It just wasn't clever enough to interest me. There is no plausible was her wings could have stayed alive in a glass box on their own for sixteen years or more."

"Mmmm… Actually it depends on the type of fae, pet. Some can go for centuries after their wings have been taken. Although taking a fae's wings is considered the most heartless act…" Loki simply shrugged at the trio of surprised looks he received. "Magic is an art that varies between the creatures using it."

"So you mean to tell us that fairies and pixies and creatures like that are real?" John asked incredulously. "I don't recall seeing those mentioned in Norse Mythology." Loki's eyes took another roll.

"Well they are not creatures of Asgard, no, but the fae folk are quite real. They are a race exclusive to Midgard, particularly in this country and Ireland or Scotland. Hence their absence in the mythologies you so associate with me and my former people," Loki explained, looking around.

"So, Maleficent and Aurora? They were real people?" Mary was just a touch too excited by the prospect.

"I wouldn't say they are, more of they would've been inspired by real fae and humans. Though fae the size of Maleficent are few and far between." Loki's attention seemed elsewhere, as if he was searching the crowd for someone in particular. That made Sherlock nervous, especially since his lover was being watched by a pretty little blond just across the street.

"If faeries are real, why can't we see them then?" Sherlock was more than happy to be the voice of reason in this conversation. He just had to convince everyone - including himself - that he wasn't speaking out of jealousy. "You would think there would be some proof by now of their existence. Some kind of scientific proof." The Trickster laughed, shaking his head.

"Ah, my precious, simple mortal. So obsessed with your facts and your sciences." He flashed Sherlock a blinding grin, as though he was a child. "Science cannot and will not explain everything, my love. Please excuse me." With a peck to Sherlock's cheek, Loki strolled over to the little blond who had been watching them. Or rather him. The consulting detective frowned, watching every little move the two made.

"Sherlock? Earth to Sherlock?" John was waving his hand in front of Sherlock's face, trying to get his friend's attention. "Your eyes are turning green."

"John, it's physically impossible for one's eye color to spontaneously change hue."

"It's possible to actually glare daggers through people too, yet you seem to be doing a fine job of it," Mary sassed, nodding to Loki and the blond. "She could just be an old friend you know."

"The last time one of Loki's 'old friends' visited, she tried to kill both of us. Somehow I doubt this one's a friend."

"Wow. Nice friends."

"Said the former assassin."

"Assassins don't have friends, Sherlock," Mary snarked as Loki rejoined the group. "Who was that, Loki?"

"Just an old friend," the god explained coyly, taking his mortal's hand and kissing it. "She's helping me with something." By this time, Sherlock and Loki's taxi had arrived. The subject sat ill still in Sherlock's stomach, however, as the pair journeyed back to Baker Street. Loki was quite known for being flirtatious. He did have a bit of faith in his god to not cheat but logic told him that it was still a strong possibility. Or was it jealousy? Sherlock wasn't quite sure.

"So. Who was that exactly?" He finally asked Loki about halfway home.

"Who was who?"

"The pretty little blond you were talking to at the cinema? You say she was a friend."

"A very old friend. One you should never call a 'pretty little blond' to her face. Her ego's large enough as it is. Rather unbearable too at times." The god smirked a bit. "Are you feeling jealous, Beloved?"

"Why would I be jealous?"

"Why would call anyone other than myself pretty?"

"I don't call you pretty."

"Liar."

"Fine. I might be a little bit jealous. I'm not quite sure. But if she's a friend, why didn't you bother to introduce us?"

"Because the last time I introduced you to a friend, she lost what was left of her fragile mind and tried to bury you alive." Both god and mortal shuddered at the memory. "To which your response was to ban your meeting of anyone I consider a friend ever again."

"Surely, you have some good judgment when it comes to making friends. They can't all wish to kill me so they can have you."

"That or you just elicit such responses from my friends. You can anger people quite easily sometimes."

"Oh really?!"

"Oh yes. It's why I keep you around, handsome." While he did find that disturbingly comforting, Sherlock was growing more and more agitated at Loki's lack of a straight answer about his "friend."

"Loki, who is she? Really? And what is she helping you with?" The god merely chuckled, his smirk melting into a knowing grin. This only infuriated the detective more. "What?" Sherlock snapped.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, lover." Loki actually turned to Sherlock as he said this, his emerald eyes glinting with mischief. And something else that had no business being in a respectable taxi cab. "Just trust me that this will be beneficial for both of us."

"You said the same thing about this double date. And wipe that look off your face, Mister. I'm too exhausted from that terrible movie you dragged me to."

"Liar."

"Am not. You are not getting any variation of lucky tonight."

"Oh yes I am, Mr. Holmes." The god was already nuzzling up to his mortal, nipping at the junction of Sherlock's neck and shoulder. "You could not possibly resist me, handsome." Sadly the god was correct. Sherlock was already scanning the streets to plan out a faster route home.