What Happens When You Lock Six Geniuses In One Room/Who Will Kneel First?

Disclaimer: We don't own the fandoms, the characters, or the actors. Oh, how we wish we did…

A/N: So this is a tandem story between me and two of my fellow fangirls, Emma (my Mycroft) and Kailee (my Watson) (I am Sherlock). Regular is me, bold is Kailee, and Italic is Emma (like entire paragraphs, not just a few words).

How the hell did this happen?! He was a God, the God of Mischief, no less! He was a hundred times smarter and more powerful than these pathetic mortals.

…Right?

If that was true, how in the world did he end up locked in a room with five of those "pathetic mortals" he hated so much? And even worse, why was he the one pouting in the corner, ignored by the rest because they couldn't be bothered to kneel before him? And to rub salt into the wound, one of them had confiscated his beloved scepter.

They're all dead when I'm done with them… he thought bitterly.

In the opposite corner stood the afore-mentioned man who had taken the scepter. He leaned against the wall, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched the other five. The "god" had pressed too many buttons, demanding that he kneel like a servant one hundred too many times. So he had, quite easily, snatched the staff from the god and now had it propped against the wall behind him. He adjusted the scarf around his neck as he observed the other men, amusing himself by listening in on their arguments.

A large, wooden, square table sat in the middle of the room, with one wooden chair for each side. On the side closest to the man with the scarf sat a billionaire philanthropist. Said billionaire had one elbow propped on the table, using the attached hand to support his drooping head. He was bored out of his mind in this room, his only companion being the twelve ounce glass of alcohol and ice in his other hand. Everyone was doing their own thing, leaving him with no one to talk to. How fun was that?

To his left was a theoretical physicist. He was very intensely working on a Rubik's Cube, pretending the other inhabitants of the room didn't exist, simply because it made it easier for him to focus. And on the rare occasion that someone did manage to pique his interest, he held en entire conversation without removing his eyes from the cube.

On the side closest to the god was a pirate. A rather dense pirate, in all honesty. He was a wonderful escape artist and con man, but everyday emotions were rather lost to him. Although, that was probably what all but one of them had in common. The pirate sat there, staring off into space, deeply wishing his beloved jar of dirt was currently in his possession. But alas, it wasn't, and couldn't be, so all he could do was sit there and daydream.

To his left sat the strangest-looking of the bunch. He had a mock bowl-cut hairstyle and pointy ears (and let's not forget about his slanted eyebrows). His chair was turned away from the table, and he held a book in his hands. A manual of sorts, really; the guidebook to his starship. He was determined to find a rule that involved being locked in a room with five annoying strangers so that he could escape. Unfortunately, the book seemed to be against him…

I had way too much fun with this…