Sherlock and Doctor Who crossover
Possibly some Johnlock fluff later if I decide to include any
What do you think?

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any material, just my brain. Please don't steal my thoughts. They're not copyrighted (If they were and you copied I'd sue!)

The T.A.R.D.I.S materialized quietly on the London rooftop (The Doctor had finally learned how to fly her properly), disturbing no part of the scene that was unfolding below. The Doctor stepped out, walking over to the edge and looking down. A man climbed frantically out of a black Taxi, hurriedly paying the driver and rushing across the road. He slowed midway to answer his phone, and although he could not hear the conversation, the Doctor knew that it was something distressing. The man stopped suddenly and walked back a short distance before turning once more, searching the skyline. The Doctor followed his gaze, to the roof opposite where he was standing.

The roof of St. Bartholomew's Hospital was a little lower than his own. The Doctor frowned; a man lay on the cold stone, a pool of dark liquid slowing spreading out around his head, whilst another stood, close to the edge, one hand reaching out to the man below, the other pressing a mobile phone to his ear, his long coat and scarf billowing out around him in the breeze. "I researched you. Before we met, I discovered everything that I could to impress you," he sobbed gently; "It's a trick. Just a magic trick." The Doctor's brow furrowed once more as he realised who the man was. It was simple really, he should have realised before. This was Sherlock Holmes, the great detective.

"Hmm, twenty-twelve. London host the Olympic Games and I carry the torch, good year. January or February though, so…" His quiet monologue trailed off as he heard Sherlock speak again.

"Keep your eyes fixed on me! Please! Will you do that, for me? This phone call, it's um… it's my note. It's what people do, isn't it? Leave a note?" His voice had calmed again; he was readying himself for something. What though, the Doctor didn't yet know for sure. "Goodbye John."

Now the Doctor knew. He turned and stepped back inside his T.A.R.D.I.S, unwilling to witness the rest.

But wait.

Sherlock Holmes couldn't die today! A thoughtful smile crept across his face, and as he turned to close the door behind him he paused and looked back, watching the detective drop his phone onto the roof behind him and spread his arms wide.

Sherlock Holmes sat quietly on the floor, leaning back against the cupboard door. In his hand was a small rubber ball in constant motion, being spun and bounced and thrown and caught. He smiled as the door opened, squeaking slightly on its over-used hinges. "I knew you'd be here."

"Oh so we've met then," The Doctor muttered under his breath before adding, in a louder voice, " No you didn't. You couldn't possibly have known. I only decide to come in ten minutes myself!"

"Of course I did! Today's important." Sherlock scorned indignantly.

"Yes, about that. You can't die. Not today"

"It's as good a day as any. You should know by now that everybody dies." Sherlock's voice had hardened, his tone turning flinty.

"I passed John in the hallway," the Doctor rapidly changed the subject, "I always knew you'd acquire a… companion, but somehow I didn't think he'd be as good as John. He's a keeper for sure."

"Mm… He is rather, isn't he," The Doctor smiled at this, causing Sherlock to scowl again, "But you wouldn't interrupt your 'Adventures' just for a social call and to scoff at me. Don't act so bloody casual. Why are you here?"

"To save your life."

John didn't stop thinking throughout the entire cab journey back to 221B. His mind raced, splitting itself between images of Mrs Hudson lying in a hospital bed, blood pulsing out of a bullet wound, and Sherlock, sitting in the chair, just where John had left him, his expression blank, as thoughtful as ever. He took a moment to smile at the thought of his flatmate, then his frown returned as the cab stopped outside 221B. There were no police cars and no ambulances, and as John put one hand on the door to push it open he could hear Mrs Hudson's voice echoing gently through the hallway. The frown deepened.
"Mrs Hudson?"

"Oh hello dear. Has Sherlock sorted everything out with the police then?"

John span around and hurried out the door, clambering back into the taxi, frantically giving directions, his mind once again turning to Sherlock in the lab.

Sherlock frowned, "So this wrist-strap lets you travel through time and space. Doctor, I know about the TARDIS. Hell, I even know how the damn thing works, but a teleport device in a bracelet? How is this going to save my life?"

Oooh SPOILERS! new chapter methinks...xx