Work Text:
“Sherlock put down the violin”, Dr Watson exclaimed, taking off his bowler hat. The young detective stopped playing.
“Is there finally a case for us?” he asked, not bothering looking at John.
“A bunch of factory workers were murdered. No trace of anything but blood, and..”
“And what?” Sherlock questioned, turning around.
“Snow. But there hasn’t snowed for weeks,” Watson explained.
“Are you sure? Did you check the equipment on the roof?”
“First thing I did,” he assured.
Sherlock raised his eyebrows and smiled with curiosity.
“Well, then. Let’s find out who did it, and where they got such convincing fake snow,” he announced, grabbing his coat and running out of the room.
Outside G.I Institute.
“Do you know what G.I stands for?” Watson asked.
“No clue,” Holmes replied, picking up some snow, and licking it.
“Well, that’s peculiar. This is real snow, John,” Sherlock noted.
“How is that possible. It’s been clear sky for days,” John replied.
“Do you know what the institute makes?” he asked.
“No,”
“Exactly. Neither do I. Because no one has ever seen anything leave the factory. So that makes the question: Why is there steam coming out the pipes?” Sherlock asked, rhetorically, climbing up a gutter pipe to the roof. Watson begrudgingly followed him, climbing on some boxes.
Sherlock and Watson looked down on the big glass dome on the roof. Inside, was a big globe with snow, seemingly being produced continuously, but not with an artificial cloud. It just seemed to appear.
“What is that?” Watson asked.
“Good question. From the pipes sticking out of it, there doesn’t seem to be anything going in. And the snow seems to spin around faster in random, sudden moments.” Sherlock responded.
Before John could ask what might be the cause, he was interrupted by the sight of an intruder, entering the room wearing...Sherlock’s outfit.
The man, who looked a bit younger than Sherlock, with bouncy brown hair, introduced himself as ‘Sherlock Holmes’ and began making nonsensical deductions around the room, to the baffled looks of Mr Simeon, the owner.
“What,” Sherlock asked, in disbelief.
“He’s good,” Watson noted, as the Doctor explained some sciencey mumbo-jumbo about the globe, which apparently contained an adaptive alien intelligence creature from space.
“Do you believe any of this?” Watson asked.
“Of course,” Sherlock said, shrugging like it was the most obvious information ever.
The Doctor climbed out of the window and ran to the carriage, where his Sontaran coach-driver was waiting.
“Did you find anything out, sir?” Strax asked, getting up onto the driver's seat, grasping his large blaster gun.
“Yes, and it appears it was worse than I thought,” he explained.
“How so?” he asked.
“GI is not just a name. It stands for the Great Intelligence. I’ve run into it before, it really does love snow..” he remarked.
“Will I be able to use my laser cannon?” Strax asked with glee.
“No, no guns! I told you this, Strax. Use your potato-brain a little more,” the Doctor instructed.
“Yes sir,” Strax grumbled politely.
13 Paternoster Row
“What’s our other Great Detective up to?” Vastra asked her wife, sipping an oddly red-coloured tea.
“Which one? There’s two,” Jenny asked.
“What do you mean two?” Vastra asked in response.
“Mr Holmes and Dr Watson were spotted near the factory as well, Madam,” Jenny explained.
“No news of Blaster-related deaths, I hope?” Vastra asked worriedly.
“No, Ma’m. Strax probably didn’t see them.” Jenny assured her.
The Silurian nodded in relief.
“Well, then. Appears we have three Sherlock Holmes’es investigating at the same time,” Vastra remarked.
“I should rather hope to pay them a visit. Inform Strax when he gets back” she said finally.
“Yes, Ma’m!” Jenny promised, kissing her wife on the cheek and clearing out the empty mug and teacup.
Unbeknownst to the Doctor, his carriage had yet another follower, though much less discreet than the barmaid, Clara.
Hurrying behind the Sontaran, Sherlock and Watson raced after the Doctor.
The two carriages stopped at the park. Sherlock and John stepped out, and saw the Doctor jump up, and pull down a ladder seemingly from nowhere.
As soon as he had started climbing up, his unofficial entourage climbed after him.
Holmes and Watson were surprised to see themselves walking higher, and higher up a set of stairs in the clouds. At the top of the stairs, was a big blue box, marked “Police Public Call Box”. The Doctor stepped inside.
“Clever new invention by the Yard, but why he is going inside it?” John questioned.
“Never mind that, we have just as much right, come on.” Sherlock beckoned, walking over to the door. It was locked so he knocked on the door. The Doctor opened, looking at the Holmes-y looking man in front of him.
“Hello?” He greeted.
“Sherlock Holmes,” Holmes introduced himself.
“Oh, I thought that was me, but I guess I’ll be the Doctor instead,” the Doctor replied with a chuckle. Sherlock stepped past him and looked in awe at the “bigger on the inside” interior of the TARDIS.
“Big enough to defeat the ominous-looking institute is it?” he asked, finishing processing the scientific implications.
“Oh, yes plenty of dimensions down those hallways, many of which I haven’t explored yet.” the Doctor replied, pointing at every hallway, flailing his arms back and forth.
Ignoring his assistant's gasps at seeing the dimensions of the TARDIS, Sherlock got down to business.
“What is the Great Intelligence?” he asked bluntly.
“Ah, yes. Difficult question to answer, slightly unenlightened era. But, considering you must have heard me identifying him earlier, here’s the brass tacks version. It’s an invisible alien organism, which chose, once more, to shape itself like snow, and control all other snow around it. Mr Simeon is it’s human puppet, feeding it electricity. Large amounts of it. That’s why there’s steam coming out of the chimneys,” the Doctor explained/babbled.
“Can you stop it?” Sherlock asked.
“I expect so, I’ll have to check with this friend of mine, Clara. Apparently, her “clients” are getting nightmares about an ice lady. Complicated, don’t assume you’ve dealt with that sort of thing before. I suggest you go speak to Madam Vastra, 13 Paternoster Row.” the Doctor informed him”
“Sure you have a lot to talk about, though maybe don’t bring your assistant,” He recommended, seeing Watson's dizzy expression.
“You don’t have a bathroom in here, do you? I think I might be a bit... Sick” Watson asked discreetly.
“Yes, that’s the dimensions. It can do that to a fella from your time period. Here,” he addressed Watson kindly, leading him down a hallway.
Sherlock walked out, smirking to himself. “That’s where you’re wrong, Doctor,”...
The detective had a nice chat with the Silurian and her wife, not fazed by the alien-ness in the slightest. Getting ensured that the Doctor was just as smart as him, Vastra hinting at Jenny that he was much smarter, Sherlock steered the talk towards their assistant for a few minutes, thanked for the tea and left. The End.
