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“Where to now?” Rose asked as she was rightened by the Doctor. The fact that he just remembered he could dance at all was quite peculiar, but most things about the Doctor were atypical.
He looked over at their new companion, Jack Harkness. “I have a treat for the both of you. How do you feel about the detective stories of Sherlock Holmes?”
Rose watched as lights blinked on the Tardis's console. She wondered for a moment when he was going to teach her to drive. “We were read the stories in school, but its bit of an over done work isn't it?”
The Doctor flipped levers and things blinked on the Tardis's screen. “Not at all. Its one of my favourites. How would you like to go meet the real Sherlock Holmes?” he questioned. His smirk taking up half his face.
Jack spoke up, and pushed off the wall to join in the conversation. “I've already met Doctor Joseph Bell, the man Doyle based his character for Sherlock from.” Jack looked at Rose out of the corner of his eye. “A brilliant man. He was very chatty . . . and limber.”
The Doctor spoke up over Rose's giggles. “Have you heard that Van Gogh had dreams of things that he could never have known about?”
Jack leaned against a rail and crossed his arms over his chest. “The Time Agents had heard rumours that he could predict the future. Some of his predictions are still being puzzled over.”
“What? No, no one can see the future.” Rose said disbelievingly. “Its impossible.”
“Actually its not. Something in the beauty of human DNA goes awry, and some start receiving visions of other times. Sometimes the future and sometimes the past. Its more common than you think.”
“There was speculation that he actually existed, but by the 51st Century it was only speculation. Its hard to distinguish fact from legend. People's imaginations are so vivid.” Jack asked.
“Not only that, but he is actually from the 21st Century.” The Doctor explained excitedly. “I've been waiting for a long time to meet him. Just never found the time before.”
Rose placed her hand on top of his. “My time? The present time?”
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “In your near future actually. Starts to gain notoriety in 2010.”
“Sherlock Holmes is running around London in my time?”
“Fantastic, isn't it?” The Doctor asked throwing the final switch as the Tardis rumbled and shook as the moved in time and space. He guided it through the space vortex and out the other side.
Rose pushed her shoes down into the grated floor for extra grip. Once the shaking stopped, she asked “Have we landed?”
“Of course we have.” He said spinning a gear into place. “The year is 2015. Sherlock has just made a miraculous return from a faked suicide and stopped Moriarty's crime ring. The news of his brilliant deductions have started to grasp real attention.”
“So what kind of danger is in store for us this time?” Rose joked.
“We'll just have to find out.” The Doctor said grabbing her hand and heading towards the door.
Jack followed closely behind. “At least this time you two won't look too ridiculous. At least let me change quickly.”
The Doctor pointed as he spoke. “Down the hall and to the left. Be quick about it.” He pulled on Rose's hand. “Come on. He'll find us.”
The Tardis's doors opened onto the street. She had been parked out of sight. Nestled among forgotten construction materials. The street itself looked very average for London. “We're at Baker Street.” Rose said pointing at a street sign.
“What better place to find Sherlock Holmes?” The Doctor commented. “Ready?”
“Absolutely my dear, Doctor.” Rose gleamed looping her arms with his. They walked down the street until they came across a sandwich bar. A door to the left had the numbers 221 nailed to it. “I think we've come to the right place.” Rose pushed the buzzer.
Moments later a man just below average height with sandy blonde hair answered the door. “Can I help you with something?”
“We're uh-” The Doctor and Rose looked at each other for a moment and looked back. “researchers for the neighbourhood. We would greatly appreciate it if you and your household could take a survey for us. We're trying to promote street cleanliness.” Rose lied.
The man looked at them disbelieving. “You certainly don't look like researchers.”
Rose looked down at the Union Jack across her chest and the Doctor's black leather jacket. “You don't expect us to run around in our lab coats do you?”
The Doctor handed him the psychic paper. “There you are. We're Doctor and Rose Tyler.”
He nodded and handed the paper back. “Well, come upstairs. Sherlock will be home soon.” He turned and headed up the staircase. “You guys don't mind waiting do you?”
“Not at all.” The Doctor replied.
The man motioned them into the living room. “I'm John, by the way. Its just me and Sherlock living here.” He paused looking at them as if waiting for something to happen. “Shouldn't you guys have clipboards or something?”
“Oh right.” The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver. “It will record our conversation.”
“So, we should probably ask questions.” Rose started. “Are you in favour of cleaner streets?”
John shrugged. “You could always do with nicer streets. Not that they are too bad. I think other parts of the city made need the help more. Baker Street is rather well looked after.” He sat waiting for another question.
“And how many people are in your building?” Rose made it up as she went.
“There is Mrs. Hudson downstairs, Sherlock, and I. So, only three.” He answered. Rose took notice of his beige jumper. She did hope that wasn't going to become the fashion trend, although it did seem to suit him.
“And have you had any trouble on the street.” The Doctor asked while Rose was distracted.
“A couple of seedy neighbours a few years back, but nothing since then. Its been rather quiet.”
Out of questions, the Doctor changed topics and put the sonic screwdriver back in his pocket. “Is it alright that we wait here for your flat mate? We could always take a bite downstairs.”
“Its fine with me. Would you like some tea?” He asked as he moved towards the kitchen.
Rose responded leaning against the Doctor on the couch. “That sounds wonderful. Its hard to find a place that gives you a nice cup of tea.”
“In London?” John questioned from the kitchen.
“Well, we've been doing a lot of traveling lately. Outside of London tea seems like a foreign concept.”
“How far outside of London?” He asked bringing them each a cup.
The Doctor took his tea and nodded thanks. “Oh you wouldn't know it. Quite outside London.”
“I was in the army. I've seen a good portion of the world. It might surprise you to know where I've seen.” John took a seat in a red paisley chair with a Union Jack pillow. To Rose, the flat seemed small, but probably the best size for two people. It was littered with books and other odds and ends. Her eyes were drawn to a giant yellow smiley face spray painted on the wall. From where she sat, she could barely make out bullet holes within the face.
The front door flew open and in walked a tall, slender man with a mess of dark curls. His coat billowed out behind him as he walked. He spoke loudly, unaware at first of his company. “Oh John, I have the most miraculous case for us. You should have seen this man's red hair. When I say red I mean-” He stopped short as he turned to spot his visitors. He did a double take looking at them. Seeming to process something everyone else is unable to see.
“These are some researchers doing a survey about our street. Rose and the Doctor.” John offered him an explanation.
Sherlock eyed them suspiciously. “Some things are not computing correctly.” He stepped closer. Seemingly unaware of personal space. He loomed up over Rose. “You appear completely average, but there are indications in your appearance that speak of impossible places.” From this vantage point, Rose could see how attractive Sherlock was, but there was something startling in his glare. Like he could see things that you wouldn't tell your best friend. “You smell highly of smoke. Which seems unlike any cigarette smoke I have ever experienced or a wood burning smoke. And your skin. Little imperfections, as were to be expected, on everything but your hands. The skin on your hands are flawless. A level of perfection that doesn't seem humanly possible. Then there are the state of your jeans. Dust seems to be kicked up from walking. No dust like that around here. Every surface that isn't concrete is covered with grass and would never kick up that much dust. You two are not from around here at all.” He eyed the Doctor. “This is highly unusual.” Sherlock went over to the chair opposite John. It was a small backed black chair with silver metal accents. He plopped down and seemed to be frustrated.
“I'm really sorry for my flatmate's behaviour. I'm not sure what has gotten into him.” John said watching Sherlock out of the corner of his eye. Sherlock seemed lost in thought. “What were the questions you needed to ask of him?”
“To be honest,” The Doctor started. “We just came here to see him. To meet someone so legendary.” Sherlock's eyes never left the Doctor. “Would you like assistance in solving your mystery? Its one you'll never figure out.”
Sherlock's eyes slanted. “Why would you come so far just to see me. Yes, I assist the police in solving some cases. Some have received acclimation, but nothing so grand as people making travel to see me.”
“How much do you know about science, Mr. Holmes?” The Doctor questioned.
“Quite a lot about things that are useful.”
The Doctor smiled. “And how much do you know about space and the universe?”
“Next to nothing.” Sherlock admitted, unashamed. “My job doesn't require the knowledge of how the earth moves around the sun or why the moon shines at night. It rarely makes a difference to the criminals I catch.”
“Good. Follow me.” The Doctor left, pulling Rose along with him.
Unable to ignore a mystery, Sherlock took several strides and caught up to them. He stood right beside the Doctor. Rose stayed back and walked next to John.
“What is this about?” John asked, utterly confused by the situation.
Rose grinned her signature smile. “It is life altering. You'll want to be around to see it.”
“While you don't know much about the universe. I am aware you know now that the earth circles around the sun.” The Doctor explained.
“And how do you know that I understand that?” Sherlock questioned.
“Why, John's blog of course.”
John gave Sherlock a smug look when he glanced over his shoulder.
“And our sun is a star. Just like you can see in the night sky. You could be considered an expert in probability though. Its easy for you to deduce that from the billions of stars that there should be some that have the ideal circumstances to produce life.”
Sherlock nodded. “In theory.”
The Doctor stopped in front of the Tardis. “No longer in theory, my friend.” He opened the Tardis door and stepped inside. Sherlock and John stood and watched until he poked his head outside. “Well come on.”
Rose went inside followed by John. He stopped, looking around. The beams of the vehicle looked like branches and gave almost a whimsical treehouse like appearance to it. A treehouse with blinking, flashing buttons. “Wait.” He backed up and looked back outside. Coming back inside he remarked. “Amazing, it's bigger on the inside!” He ran back out. “Sherlock you have to come see this.”
He was still staring at the blue exterior. Trying to deduce what was hard to tell. He followed John inside. Everyone waited on his reaction. Initially, it appeared as if he wouldn't offer them the satisfaction. Then he began to shake.
“So you're an alien?” John guessed taking the attention off of Sherlock.
“You've got it. Two hearts and everything.”
John nodded accepting it easily enough. He didn't seem like the character that needed much persuasion. Truth was in the seeing. He looked concerned over to his friend. “Sherlock? You okay.”
He didn't answer the question, but started diving into questions of his own. “So this machine. It flies like a spaceship? How do you move such great distances in short periods of time?”
Rose knew this was the Doctor's favourite part. “Its not only a space ship. Its a Tardis. A Time And Relative Dimension In Space. It is also a time machine.”
“Fantastic.” John muttered.
Sherlock appeared to be recovering from his initial shock. “And it works? Like actually moves through time and space?” He made his way up the steps and stared down at the console.
“Sure does. I'll take you sometime if you like.”
Sherlock said nothing. He just circled around the console.
Jack appeared at the entrance to the hall. He had changed into a light blue shirt and jeans. “You guys back already?” His American accent sticking out among the other voices. He noticed Sherlock and walked directly over. He held out his hand. “Well, Hello. Captain Jack Harkness.”
“No.” The Doctor warned.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him and looked down at his hand. “Sherlock Holmes.” He continued his circle and joined the others by the door. “John introduced you as the Doctor. Don't you have a name? Or is it just the Doctor?”
“Just the Doctor, if you don't mind.”
“And what are you here for, Doctor?” He questioned adjusting his scarf.
The Doctor looked baffled. “Why to see Sherlock Holmes, of course. The famous detective. Everyone loves a good detective story, and yours is the best. Now you were just telling John, here, about an interesting case. Mind if we sit in?”
Sherlock seemed to be pondering away an excuse or insult to leave the Doctor, and allow him to continue his work in peace. It was hard to find a fault with him. His intelligence couldn't be doubted, and he looked as if he could keep up. “Just stay out of the way.” He responded and motioned to John to move closer. He spoke loud enough for all to hear, but directed his comments to his companion. “I met two men on the tube today with great red hair. Seeing it, I inquired to where they was headed. They answered the Ginger Society and my interest was immediately peaked. I exited the tube and one man had followed me off. He had heard about my cases and want my assistance with a disappearance of a chairman of the society.” Sherlock glanced around to check that everyone was listening. The best part of being a show off is having an audience. “The man, Jabez Wilson, told me of how he became involved with the society. He was a pawnbroker and was approached by his assistant, Vincent Spaulding, about it. He was the other red hair man on the tube. Since getting involved with the society he was employed to update an online encyclopedia by the chairman Duncan Ross. When going to the office to work the previous day, he could not find Ross anywhere. I told him I would check into it and get back to him.”
“And how long has this man's assistant worked for him?” The Doctor questioned.
Sherlock nodded. “I asked that as well. He says that he was working for the Ginger Society for eight weeks and Vincent had been employed by him for approximately twelve weeks.” He turned and headed to the door. “I need to think. There is no way I could do that in this contraption.”
Each person followed him out the door with John and Jack bringing up the end. John looked at the people staring and commented to Jack. “Must seem strange to see so many people come out of a small space.”
Jack turned to him smiling. “Yes. Captain Jack Harkness.” Jack greeted holding out his hand. John reached out to shake it.
“Not now, Jack.” The Doctor called back to him.
Sherlock laid down on his couch in his flat as the rest of the party sat around the table in the kitchen.
Rose spoke up. “Is there nothing we can do to help?”
“Its really best to leave him be to his thoughts. Everyone else just gets in the way. He gets weird in this process.” John looked in to Sherlock and took note of his arm. “Really, Sherlock. Three nicotine patches?”
“Difficult problem requires three.” Sherlock answered simply. His eyes never leaving the ceiling.
“Is he always like this?” Jack asked.
John answered. “Actually its never boring. We lead a rather exciting life. I can hardly get him to sit still. Only when he is thinking can I get anything else done. If he isn't on a case, he is whining about wanting another one and that is not a productive atmosphere for anyone.” He shrugged. “And Doctor. A doctor of what?”
“Many things actually. Including cheese making.” He boasted.
“That sounds useful.” Jack commented sarcastically.
Sherlock leaped off of the couch shouting. “John come with me.”
“Where to?” He asked.
“A concert.” He responded grabbing for his jacket and heading outside.
John followed him, not asking questions. Rose and the Doctor looked at each other before heading out after them.
“Where are we going?” Rose questioned the Doctor.
“I don't know, but that is part of the fun.” He said rushing to catch up with them. They stopped in front of Wilson's Pawn and went inside.
“What are we doing here?” John whispered to Sherlock.
“Getting directions.” Sherlock answered as he stepped up to the counter. The shop was crowded with discarded, dusty personal belongings and no one seemed to be in sight. On the counter sat a single bell and Sherlock hit it glancing around for someone to appear.
A rather large man with a crop of deep red hair came walking up from the door leading what seemed to be a basement. “Can I help you?” He asked dusting off his dirty hands on his pants.
“Oh hello. I seen you earlier on the tube.” Sherlock did his best to seem welcoming. “I was just actually stopping by to get directions to the West End Theatre. I didn't know you worked here.”
Vincent gave directions that even Jack knew where to go. Everyone in London knew where the West End Theatre was.
“And what were you doing down there?” Sherlock asked inquisitively.
“Oh just developing some pictures. I run a photography business on the side.” he raised his hand to cover his face as he belched quietly.
“Thank you for assistance.” Sherlock turned and the moment he turned his friendly face dropped back to his serious default.
“What the hell is that?” John asked as soon as they exited. “You know every street in London. You do not need to ask directions. I could have lead you to the theatre.”
Sherlock turned to John. “With that one visit I found out everything I needed to know. Vincent has to be the fourth smartest man in London.”
“What? He is an assistant at a pawn shop.” John argued.
“Didn't you notice his knees?” He asked passionately before turning to look behind the shop. He lead them to a busy street. “Do you see that?” He pointed to the building across the street.
“A Bank?” Rose questioned.
“Exactly a bank.”
Jack spoke up. “I thought we were going to a concert?”
Sherlock sneered close to his face. “Don't be stupid. Of course we're not going to the theatre.”
Rose offered her own peace of observations. “I'm confused. I thought we were looking for an abduction victim.”
“As a rule,” said Sherlock, “the more bizarre a thing is the less mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless crimes which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the most difficult to identify.”
“That really doesn't clear anything up.” She joked.
Sherlock checked his phone. “Nothing will happen tonight. We'll have to meet back tomorrow afternoon. My appearance would have scared off any crime for tonight. At least I've found out everything I need to know.”
The trip back to Baker Street was a short one.
“Oh no, no, no!” The Doctor exclaimed as he ran around several tall palettes of bricks. A truck had parked construction materials right in front of the Tardis's doors.
“Oh great. What are we going to do now?” Rose asked. “There is no way to get in the back or top or something?
“Its not a convertible, Rose. Its a spaceship. There is only the front door.” Jack explained.
John tried to calm their slight panic. “They will be back in the morning to move it and continue with the project across the street. You can stay with us if you would like. Right Sherlock?”
He looked absentmindedly down the street. “Sure.”
“We'll figure out someway to fit us all.” John said being accommodating.
________________________________________
“How long have the two of you been together?” Jack asked as they sat around the table eating take away.
“We're not together.” John defended.
Jack blushed. “Oh. Sorry. I thought I was picking up a vibe.”
Sherlock sat and watched as everyone ate. John had forced him to take a plate, but he just pushed his food around. “How does an American time traveler from the future get involved with the Doctor?” he asked.
“How do you know I'm from the future?”
Sherlock motioned to Jack's pocket. “Judging by the advanced technology you've been carrying around, you can't be from the near future. I've also noticed your very liberal views on sexual preference. We're just currently getting rights for same sex couples. When you thought that flag pole earlier was an alien on our way back, I thought you would have made out with it without question. Her,” he motioned over to Rose, “She is from around our time. She is still carrying around an old version of a mobile from 2005.”
“Its a long story actually. I was one of the first to sign up for a militaristic type group called the Time Agents. Sadly, they ended up erasing two years of my past and I left the agency to become a time-traveling con artist. I tried to con the Doctor, and here I am.” He relayed colourfully.
“Tell me Doctor,” Sherlock started, “are all your companions in love with you? I can tell she isn't the first.”
Rose blushed, but wasn't sure what to say. Most of the day she had been a patient bystander. Its hard to think Sherlock could have gained enough information about her to assume she had feelings for the Doctor.
“I think its time we all turn in.” John suggested rescuing the situation. “Rose can have my room, and I'll sleep on the floor in Sherlock's. He's too strange about his things. Do you guys mind that there is chair that lays out and the couch?”
“Thats fine with me.” Jack offered.
John walked upstairs to change before giving up his room and joined Sherlock in his. Sherlock was sitting on his bed staring out the window. Trying not to disturb him he walked around to sit in the chair beside the nightstand. “I am sorry that we have so many people over here tonight, and you've been a little put out.”
“It is an inconvenience.” He turned his attention to John. “There are so much going on today. It makes one question our place in everything. I always thought my work was going to be important to the world. That all I was, was my work, but thinking that there are infinite universes filled with all sorts of people. Does what I do even matter?” He asked having an uncharacteristic moment of self doubt.
“Of course it matters. While there are infinite number of people out there, what you do matters to the people of this city and in this country and of this planet. Billions of people benefit from your work.”
“I know I'd like to project that I am above need of people and it is always about the puzzles, but I am a show off and I do have the need to feel recognized.” Sherlock admitted quietly.
John chuckled. “After all these years of living with you, you don't think I don't know that? Get some rest, Sherlock. Tomorrow will be a big day.” John put his pillow on the floor at the end of the bed. He laid down giving up trying to get Sherlock to actually sleep. He turned his back on him and closed his eyes.
Just as he was falling asleep he felt a hand on his side. He jumped and turned to see Sherlock on his knees beside him. “What's wrong?” He asked concerned.
“Can we talk? I need to bounce ideas off you.”
“Really? Right now Sherlock? Can't you go get your skull to talk to? He's a better listener.” John asked pulling the blanket back over him.
“How am I supposed to talk to the skull about our relationship?”
John sat up quickly. “What? Why? What brought this up?” He stumbled over his words.
“We've been friends for five years now.” He started, but John stopped him by standing up.
“If we are going to talk about this, I better get comfortable.” John took a seat in the chair.
Sherlock moved back to his position on the bed. “Before the aftermath of the Reichenbach case, I tried convincing myself that I wasn't susceptible to any sort of emotion. I thought that while I see a connection between the two of us, I always felt that anything beyond friendship would be taxing. When I stared at you from the top of that roof, I knew everything I was about to do was worth it. I was doing it to save Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson, but more than that I was doing it to save you. You were the only true friend that I have ever had, and - and I want to know what you think about our friendship before I go and make a fool of myself.”
John eyebrows raised in his signature style. “Umm. Well, yes. I would call you my best friend. Our lives typically centre around our friendship. Any outside relationships have a tendency to leave while we remain constant. So, yeah. I think you're my best friend.”
“That being said. I have grown accustomed to caring for you a great deal. Those three years I spent away were the hardest years I could have imagined. I thought of you every day, but found out that I could live without you. The problem was, that I didn't want to. The pain I experienced from being away from you never dissipated or faltered.”
John tread lightly as he spoke. “Why have you not mentioned this before now? You've been back for a year. Did your emotions change when you came back?”
“Not at all. It was just easier to settle into our previous way of life. I knew it was safe and I couldn't lose you again because of it. Plus, I wouldn't know how you would feel about the two of us.”
John leaned forward. “Are you trying to tell me that you have feelings for me?”
Sherlock looked down trying his best to hide his features. “I could be. It's not fair, I know you aren't gay, and I'm not asking for that type of relationship. I'm not asking for anything at all. I just want you to be aware that someone cares.”
John moved to sit on the bed beside Sherlock. “I care about you too, you know.” He waited until Sherlock would look up at him. “Ever since I met you, you've been the most important aspect in my life. Sherlock, I watched you fall. Seen my best friend plummet to his death. All the feelings I was denying and hiding from myself came flooding back. I grieved for you for three years.” John's heart was racing as he moved his hand across the bed slowly. He intertwined his fingers with Sherlock's. “Is this what you want?”
Sherlock nodded his head. “John I don't want you to do anything that you'll regret.”
John ran his hand up Sherlock's shoulder and pressed his fingers against his cheek. “There is no way that I could regret this.” He pressed his lips against Sherlock's initially softly, then with more passion and determination. His mouth opened slightly and allowed Sherlock to move his tongue in. The moved together like one machine as they kissed deeply. His fingers moving up to twine in Sherlock's curls. John pulled away from a second. “What are we doing?” He breathed.
Sherlock pressed his forehead against John's. “I don't know, but I don't want you to stop it. Please don't pull away from me now.”
“Never again.” He said as he leaned forward kissing him quickly. “Do you still want me to sleep on the floor?”
Sherlock chuckled. “God, no.”
________________________________________
John woke up once again to the touch of a hand on his arm. He felt the feeling of lips on his cheek. It took him several seconds to remember the night before. He looked up at Sherlock's face and smiled widely. “We still good?” He asked quietly.
“Very.” He kissed John sweetly. “We have to go. I just figured out they are going to strike tonight.”
“Tonight? What time is it?” He asked sitting up.
“Three.” Sherlock answered. “Do we really have to wake up everyone else?”
“Unless you want me to go like this,” he motioned down to his pyjamas. “I have to go to my room and get dressed. Rose is in my room.”
“You could always wear something of mine.”
John laughed sarcastically. “Nothing you have would fit me. I think I would rather go like this.” He climbed out of bed. “I'll only be a minute. Plus they traveled so far to see you. I think you owe it to them. You never know. They could be useful”
“Doubtful.”
He walked out in the living room to find the Doctor sitting up tinkering with something glowing. “You still up?” he asked.
“As long as I get my four hours, I'm good. Time is waisted sleeping. Always something to be done.” the Doctor responded.
John adjusted his weight to his other foot. “You sound like Sherlock. Speaking of which, he realized that they are going to strike tonight. We are getting ready to head out if you want to wake up Jack.”
John walked up to his room and knocked lightly on the door.
“Yeah?” He heard a quiet sleepy voice come from the other side.
“Rose? We're getting ready to head out. You ready for some adventure?” John called through the door.
“Just a moment.” She said as she stumbled around to get dressed quickly. She pulled the blankets back right on the bed and opened the door. “Its exciting isn't it.” She remarked.
“Always is.” John slipped passed her so he could change.
Rose went to find the rest of the party in the living room. “Are we going to find ourselves some kidnappers?” She asked as she entered the room.
“Not quite.” Sherlock answered. “I've already called Detective Lestrade, and he is going to meet us there.” He noticed John heading downstairs. “Ready?” He walked out and was followed by each person.
Luckily the street was empty or the large group would have drawn attention. The cold clinging to the night air and filling up their lungs. Rose hung back to talk to John. “Does it bother you to always be the companion and not the star.”
John blushed a little. “Its just good to be included in something so unbelievable. Plus, its not all about being the centre of attention for everyone else, but for that one special person.
Rose's eyes light up a little. “It really is.”
They stopped along the busy street behind Wilson's Pawn. Two men walked up to the group. It was Detective Lestrade and the bank manager, Mr. Merryweather.
Once everyone had gathered around, Sherlock began to explain. “After meeting with Vincent at this shop earlier today, I took notice that he spent a lot of time in the basement. By the state of his knees he wasn't actually developing photos. He was also the one who introduced Jabez to the Ginger Society not long after he started working for him. This was a ploy to get him out of the shop so that he could dig a tunnel across from the basement to the vault of the bank. When the society randomly dispersed, I knew it was time for action. It took me quite a while to recognize the assistant, but he is none other than the criminal John Clay. It is critical to capture him by not alerting him to our presence.”
“And how would we do that?” Lestrade asked.
“We need to wait for him in the basement of the bank outside the vault.” Sherlock suggested.
Mr. Merryweather spoke up for the first time. “What? We're going to let them destroy my vault?”
“Would you rather them get away and try again later. I can't guarantee I'll be able to track them again. He is not arrested yet for a reason.”
“Rose, Jack, and I can wait by the door of the shop so that we can capture any that tries to leave through the back way.” The Doctor suggested.
“Yes do that. When you hear a loud blast, be ready.” Sherlock began to make his way to the bank followed by John, Lestrade, and Merryweather. They couched down in the basement waiting for a blast. It didn't take them long before they were rewarded. Merryweather opened the vault and was greeted by a huge plume of smoke.
Sherlock coughed as he barrelled forward followed by John. Do first, think of consequences later. Spot lights danced around the vault through the smoke. Finally Sherlock was close enough that they took notice of him. He already had his gun raised to the two people. “You really didn't think it would be that easy, did you?”
The man previously known as Vincent spoke. “Sherlock Holmes. I should have known.”
“John Clay and his cohort.” Sherlock taunted. “Do you really think there is any way out of this?”
Vincent/John Clay smiled. “And how are you to know that we don't have this place wired up to blow unless you let us go?” Sherlock and John glanced at each other for a second, but it was enough to give them away. Vincent/Clay continued. “And it wouldn't only be your death, but the death of your faithful companion as well. Are you really willing to risk that?”
Sherlock remained silent for a moment then motioned with his gun. “Alright. Leave, but take nothing.” He continued holding his aim on them as the backed out through the tunnel.
________________________________________
When the ground shook, the Doctor immediately grabbed for his sonic screwdriver. He pointed it to the door and it quickly unlocked. He opened the door slowly to check the room. With no one present, they made their way around the counter and to the basement. The basement was light up with several work lamps, and there was a sizeable hole in the east facing wall. “Back here.” he motioned to several boxes to crouch behind.
Two men stepped out of the tunnel with bright red hair. The Doctor immediately recognized one man as part of the Slitheen. Vincent must be a Slitheen as well. He stepped out in front of their path. “Well, Hello.”
They took two steps back and fear filled their eyes.
“I'll take it by your reaction that you recognize me. Why don't you make this easy and go ahead and surrender.”
Jack pulled out his sonic blaster holding it up threatening the men.
They both laughed loudly. Their large bodies shaking. “What are you going to do with that?” Vincent/Clay managed between laughs.
Rose grabbed a can of Coca-cola off the shelf in front of her. “No, but I do have this.”
They cowered in front of her.
She shook the can up. “And I know what it will do to you.”
“It doesn't have to be like this. If you surrender we will drop you by Raxacoricofallapatorious. You can stand trial in front of your own people.” The Doctor offered. “There is no where to go.”
The men started back tracking down the tunnel but stopped when the Doctor yelled.
“Don't move.”
The other man cackled. “Why not? All that is back there are two guys with a gun. That will never stop us.”
“Then why come back here in the first place?” Jack asked.
“Security cameras. We've grown rather found of our current outward appearances. I'd hate to have to build up a reputation in another body.”
“Rose, throw me a can.” The Doctor said.
Rose threw him one on the shelf before her. He quickly shook it up and pointed it at the Slitheen. He rounded on them until he blocked their path to the tunnel. They dared not move while the can was pointed at them. If it touched their skin they would be reduced to a boiling puddle.
“You can come with us. It doesn't have to go like this.” The Doctor repeated. When they didn't move he rushed forward and attached handcuffs to each of them. “Watch out for their breath.” He warned Jack. He pushed them forward, up the stairs, and into the car park.
They met the remaining members outside.
“Ah. Well done. You caught them.” Merryweather remarked.
“Yes, and they have to come with me.” The Doctor ordered. He handed Lestrade the psychic paper.
“The Specialist Operations Branch Metropolitan Police?” Lestrade questioned. “You have come for John Clay?”
“Yes we have. Thank you for your assistance, but we can take it from here.”
Lestrade said brief goodbyes to Sherlock and John. He and Merryweather left and headed back towards the bank.
“Want to tag along while we take these back to Raxacoricofallapatorious?” The Doctor offered. “I can drop you back in five minutes from now.”
Sherlock circled around the two prisoners. “These are aliens?”
“Slitheen. Vile creatures with a one track mind for power and riches.” Jack explained. “They compress themselves inside a human suit. Quite nasty. The compression releases great amounts of gas.”
“Mind their breath. They can knock you out with it.”
Sherlock walked over to the Doctor. “Can I see that thing you showed Lestrade?” He handed over the psychic paper. He inspected it closely and the words faded away. “It is blank.”
“Psychic paper. Tells the holder whatever they would like them to see.” Rose commented as she threw the can of Coca-cola back in the shop.
The Doctor smiled widely. “Its been known not to work on geniuses. Imagine that Sherlock Holmes can see right through it.”
“Isn't that the same thing that you showed me that said you were researchers?” John wondered. He shifted from one foot to another.
“The very same. So are you going to take me up on my offer?” The Doctor asked.
Sherlock walked over to John. “I think we better stay here. The universe isn't ready for Sherlock Holmes yet.”
They walked back to Baker Street as the sun rose up slowly in the East. “Fantastic!” The Doctor exclaimed as he ran to the Tardis. The bricks having been moved as the morning's construction begun. “I'm afraid this is where we part ways, my friends.”
Sherlock nodded and walked back towards his flat.
John stayed to watch as each entered the Tardis. “Rose.” He called.
She stopped looking at him quizically. She hung on the side of the door.
“Don't wait to tell him how you feel.” John suggested. “You don't want to waste this opportunity.”
Jack entered behind her, catching her eye.
“I'm sure that you know who I'm talking about. You don't want to miss your chance to be with someone so extraordinary. Even if its not forever.” John turned to catch up with Sherlock. He reached out to grab his hand.
When Rose reentered the Tardis, the Doctor was already flipping switches and turning dials.
“Can I talk to you a moment?” she asked.
“Me?” The Doctor asked.
She nodded her head and he bounded down towards her.
His smile took up the better portion of his face. “What do you need to talk about?”
She wrapped her hand around the back of his head and pulled him down to her level. She gently pressed her lips against his. She backed up cautiously. “Sorry. I just – I just needed to.”
He moved closer to her. His hand gently resting against her cheek. “Rose. Dear Rose. In all my years of living, I don't think I have ever run across a person who is more alive than you are. You are so human. The essence of everything I care about.” He kissed her forehead. “Don't ever be sorry for being who you are.”