Disclaimer: Don't own Marvel or Sherlock…

Warning: Suggested recreational drug use, and coarse language

Look What the Cat Dragged in

Teleporting. Such draining business indeed. Loki looked around the rather confined place. Interesting. Stairs, a single set leading up and another leading down. Deciding to go with the one upstairs, since there was a door visible, he headed up. Stopping in front of it, he hesitates. He should hide. Lay low for a while, so that his brother wouldn't find him and send him back to his magic-draining cell again. He didn't think he could escape that place twice.

Finally, he knocked and waited. A man with light brown hair answered the door, clad in a striped sweater and jeans. "Uh, hello. Can I help you with anything?" He asked, confused. "I doubt you can help." Loki scoffed. Rolling his eyes slightly, the man leaned back from the doorway. "Sherlock, I think someone wants to see you!" He yelled. "I'm John, by the way." The stranger at the door said kindly. "Loki. Loki Laufyson." He replied. He must've landed somewhere in London, judging by the short mans accent.

A taller man with curly dark hair, high cheekbones, and visibly pale skin. With a barely a glance his way, the strange tall man turned to the shorter one. "I don't know him, and he's not a client." The man with the striped sweater gave him a look. "I'm sorry, but have we met before?" John asked. "No, I don't believe we have." Loki said disdainfully. "Are you looking for Mrs. Hudson?" The tall man asked. "No." Loki snapped. They were wearing his patience.

"Oh, you must be cold, come in come in. This is Sherlock, though you probably already know that." John replied, opening the door wider and stepping aside. With cold, calculating eyes, the male named Sherlock stared at him, and Loki did the same.

Sitting down on the couch, Loki waited. "So, ah, your accent's different. Maybe from… America?" John asked, trying to make small talk. Before Loki could call him an eejit for it, Sherlock interrupted. "He's not from here. And, as a response to your remark from earlier, no he isn't cold simply because he wasn't outside. Odd man indeed. Not to mention he seems to think very highly of himself, seeing as he was about to call you an eejit." Sherlock said, a small flame of interest in his eyes.

"Eejit…?" John asked confused. "Irish offensive term, conceived from the word idiot since they sound very much alike. Now, what is it you want from us?" Sherlock asked, waving off John who looked at least the bit offensive. He had seemed used to be calling stupid, and idiot, and man who just 'doesn't think' quite often. "I don't want anything you have to offer, mortal—" Loki snapped.

"Oh, what is this? He calls us mortal John, can you believe it! What is it you do that makes you so different from us 'mortals?' No, wait, let me see if I can get it." He responded when Loki was about to reply with a snarl. "Demi-god… by the way you hold yourself I'd say you were someone important in a royal family. Not from here either. Your very far away from home, Loki, aren't you?" Sherlock asked, shaking his head. "He's a killer, Sherlock, we have a killer in our home and your just preparing tea?" John hissed.

Sherlock frowned slightly. "Killer? He's a Norse god, the god of mischief. I highly doubt he could be a serial killer." Sherlock replied. "Genocide. He was guilty for wanting to kill us all. You're lucky I read the papers." John snapped softly, keeping a wary eye on their guest. "Damn." Loki muttered. He'd been found out, oh well, he could just kill the petty mortals and be done with it, though the one with curly hair rather intrigued him.

"Wait, did you say Norse god?" John asked after a single beat of silence. "Yes, Norse god. Laufy's son if I remember correctly. Rather fond of magic too, though it's considered a woman's trait rather than a mans." Sherlock said curtly. "How dare you insult me you petty fool." Loki said, his voice low and dangerous. "You just said magic… are you still on heroin, because I swear to God that I'll get Lestrade to haul you back to the pen." John threatened. The tall one just rolled his eyes.

"Remember the Winchesters?" Sherlock asked, while Loki looked just about ready to murder them all for forgetting him. "Yes, but you explained to me as slow and 'dumb' as you could, telling me that it wasn't really magic after the case." John said with a small nod. "Well, if there's such things as demons and angels, what makes it so hard to believe in Norse demigods?" Sherlock asked staring at his friend as if it was the simplest thing ever. John simply stared at him, mouth agape. "Ugh, everyone's so stupid. Even you, Loki, though considered to the rest of these sheep your only a tad bit smarter." Sherlock said. Loki stood up, enraged.

"I will not take this, I am a god—"

"Demi-god, my dear." Sherlock said with fake enthusiasm. "I could smite you. But then again, you wouldn't get to suffer." Loki snarled. He glanced at John, who slightly flinched at the intense stare. "Now, what would happen if I did something to your companion?" Loki wondered, going over to were John sat in his desk chair. "I've heard worse." Sherlock retorted. Loki snapped his head to him and smiled sinisterly. "And what about your smarts? What would happen then?" Loki asked, his voice sweet enough to kill you. "Your drained of magic, even I can see that." Sherlock said.

"A simple transfiguration spell would do." Loki mumbled. With a flick of his wrist, the demi-god was now the only human in the room. Loki smiled triumphantly down at a shocked black cat, with eyes that seemed much like the consulting detectives. It took a second, but the cat looked up at him with anger before going off to some other part of the room. Sitting in a chair, was a small little hedge hog. The cat climbed onto the chair and poked the hedge hog with its nose. Turning it's gaze, the cat glared at Loki.

"You had it coming." Loki told the cat. "How about this? To make it more… bearable, I could do a simple comprehension spell so you could talk to your lover?" The cat glared at him, but visibly perked up. Loki smiled, and muttered a simple sentence in his language. "Of course, the time of talking is restricted so that you may speak only for two hours. Twelve and one AM." Loki said. "Now, we can't have you someplace familiar to you." Loki added at the hissing cat. The demi god grabbed the cat by the scruff and the hedgehog was cupped in his hand before they simply displayed with a green spark.

. . . . .

A/N: Hope ya'll liked. Like usual, I'll update again today, hopefully. This is meant to be a short story, so expect it to end at chapter five or around there.