Summary - No idea how to summarize this but, basically, that line in the movie, where Watson tells Sherlock, "You're not human!" well, this is what came of it :)
Disclaimer - I don't own any of this, I'm just playing with it all.
He was stuck, in London. The Detective was stuck in London with no tools, no weapons and no TARDIS. He had only his violin and his wits. And though they were considerable, he was none too happy about being stuck in one time and in one place, especially this place. Nothing was clean, everything was loud and no one was friendly.
"Pardon me sir," said a man who brushed him as he walked by on the pavement. Fine, they were friendly, but he still hated being stuck here. That's the trouble with teleports though, they can be manipulated by the slightest thing and shouldn't ever be used - even as an emergency escape from a criminal's lair.
Ah, well, it seemed as if he had to make his way on the slow path for a while, had he been younger, not even two lives ago, he wouldn't have stood for waiting. Other Time Lords may never show up on this primitive little planet, but as he really had no other choice, he began to walk down the street.
Apart from the noise, the myriad of smells and the general chaos of a planet that hadn't quite begun to grasp the benefit of a daily shower, London was quite enjoyable. Not even a day had gone by and he had already discovered several species that were familiar to him. Granted they needed a few thousand years to evolve to that point in which they would be of any use at all, but that wasn't the point. He eventually found himself in a park, watching things, as he was wont to do.
His eye soon caught on a man, probably in his late twenty's, sitting on a bench, writing. However, he kept looking up, as if waiting for something to happen. After a while, a woman came down the path, hand-in-hand with a young boy, probably only five years old. Almost immediately upon sighting her, the man stood up and walked toward her awkwardly. It was apparent that he was attracted to her, as he handed her a letter, his hand slightly shaking. What was also apparent was how bored the young boy was, he voiced that they would be late, and in doing so manipulated the lady to continue on, glancing back at the man before returning her attention to her charge.
As the man turned around, intending to return to his seat with an utterly blissful look on his face, he found it occupied by a rather scruffy looking man in strange clothes that seemed too big for him. As he began to move away to an unoccupied seat, however, he was stopped when the man asked him a question.
"What was it that you gave her just now?" He was leaning back, arms outstretched along the back of the bench, one hand clutching a violin, so as to make it impossible for another person to sit without resting on his arm.
"I hardly think it is your place to know," he stated. He decided then to go back to his hotel, rather than stay in the park, and turned to leave. It was only after a few steps that he realized the man was following him. "Who are you?" He asked, stopping.
"That's a rather good question," was the enigmatic response. "I don't actually know yet. Still quite new, this body, fresh. I died in the escape I suppose. I was probably transported too far, or through a sun, or something. Judging by the state of my clothes, I'd say it's the latter. Wouldn't you agree?"
"I have to go," And he began to walk briskly, away from the strange man who was now sniffing his clothes and looked as if he might actually even taste them at some point. He made it out of the park this time before the man caught up with him again, his violin still in hand.
"I'm The Detective," He said with a mischievous look on his face, as if he knew a secret about something important that he would let spill at any moment.
"Right and I'm a Doctor," he responded with an edge of sarcasm.
"You're too young to be The Doctor, not to mention, a human."
"I'm a field Medic in the Royal Army," then his face became serious. "Or rather, I was, before..." He trailed off and gained a slight limp to his walk. "My name is John Watson. What should I call you?"
"Watson? Really? John Watson? Well then, I'm Sherlock Holmes," He beamed, as if it were a joke. When his only answer was another half bewildered, half exasperated look, his smile grew. "This is wonderful. Where are we?"
"We are where I leave you, Mr. Holmes," They were standing outside a rather drab looking motel.
"I think not," was all the warning he had before he was being pulled up the street. "As I understand it, you were discharged for being wounded and came to London, and judging by your clothes and choice of residence you were not intending to stay. Then, one day, you meet a beautiful girl in the park and fall in love. Now, you don't want to leave but have no way of really staying. Does that sound correct?"
"Where are you taking me? Let go," He shrugged out of The Detective's grip but continued following him.
"As I was saying," the man stopped, backed up a few paces, and turned toward the house next to them. "We need to find you a proper house if this girl is going to take you seriously. And you need to stop giving her poetry every time you see her in the park."
"She says she enjoys them!"
"She's a governess, she probably says that about the poems her charge writes for her," He looked at John patronizingly. "Now, come, this will be our new home."
"OUR new home!" And he followed the strange man up the steps of 221B, the shout unnoticed by the bustling patrons of Baker Street.
A/N - SOOOOO, I want this to be a sort of combination of the books by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the BBC series and the 2009 movie. However it will follow the plot of the movie. After that I may do more but only if requested.
In case you didn't get it, Sherlock Holmes (aka 'The Detective') is a Time Lord in this fic - However, it is NOT going to be a Doctor Who crossover, I wouldn't be able to do it justice :P - So inspired by the point in the movie where the two of them are in jail and Watson says to Holmes, "You're not human!"
