221B, Baker Street, London, England
"Sherlock?! What the Hell are you doing?"
"I'm packing, John, what does it look like?"
John stared around the apartment, Mrs Hudson had only cleaned it that morning, but now shirts, trousers, socks and... yes, underwear was strewn all over the furniture, floor and somehow there was a sock in the sink. In the midst of it all Sherlock was leant over his suitcase, which was balanced precariously on numerous files and papers, and was stuffing his clothes- none too neatly- into it.
"It looks like you've decided to discard the contents of your wardrobe over the flat," John said as he flung the newspaper he had bought onto his chair, "Would you care to explain why?"
Sherlock straightened up and sighed, "I told you already, I'm packing."
"That's not what I meant and you know it," John said,forcing back a smile.
"We're going to work a case," Sherlock said matter-of-factly, looking around the flat before striding over to his chair and plucking a shirt off the back of it.
"We?" John paused and rubbed his chin, "Where exactly?"
"America. Hagerman, Idaho. To be specific." The taller man said, tossing yet another button-up shirt into his suitcase.
"And why are we going to Hagerman?" His companion asked with tone that made it clear he was all too used to these kind of antics.
"A friend called me. I owed him." Sherlock now walked to the mantelpiece and plucked the skull from it, which he carefully laid on top layers of crumpled garments.
John looked amused as he studied Sherlock, trying to glean something from him, "A friend?"
"Yes, John, now, are you going to stand there and repeat everything I say or start packing? The plane leaves in three hours."
"No, of course, I'll go get ready..." John said, shaking his head slightly in resignation and heading for his bedroom.
"But," He spun on his heel and jabbed a finger at the consulting detective who was currently gently placing his violin into its case. "Just tell me one more thing."
Sherlock sighed in frustration and looked sharply at his friend, "Fine. One thing."
"What's your friend's name?"
"Oh," A smile flickered across Sherlock's lips, "Robert Singer, though I understand he prefers Bobby."
Room 61, A dingy motel just off Route 87, Arizona, America
"Dean?"
"Yeah, hey Bobby, I'll put you on speaker."
The eldest Winchester tapped his phone and laid it on the night stand next to the bed he was lying on.
"Hey Bobby," Sam called from the kitchenette where he was brewing coffee.
"Hi Sam. Now, you two listening? I've got a case for you."
Dean sighed heavily, "Another? Jeez Bobby, we just finished up one here. Can't someone else take it?"
"No, this is a special case. I need you two to work it because it involves an old... ah, acquaintance of mine."
"Oh yeah? Anyone we know?" The younger brother asked as he walked over to his bed and sat on the edge, cradling his mug of coffee.
"No. But I'm sure you'll get on great. Anyway, there's another reason I need you two working this. Because unless I'm very wrong, and I hope I am, this is the biggest thing you'll have worked in a while. I need someone I can trust to work on this."
"Uh, so why don't you work this, Bobby?" Dean asked, his brow furrowing slightly as he sat up and leant against the wall.
"I'm a little tied up , ya idjit." Bobby said, as though it were obvious. "This vampire nest ain't gonna wipe itself out."
"Alright," Sam said with a small chuckle at his brother's abashed expression. "Give us a run down on the job."
"What do you two know about the Seven Princes of Hell?"
The Winchesters exchanged glances, "Not a lot, but I'm guessing there's seven of them and they're princes of Hell." The eldest said with a grin.
"Real insightful of you, Dean." Bobby said with a sigh.
"The Seven Princes of Hell are real nasty customers. They were the seven original angels to fall with Lucifer, in fact, he's one of them. The other six are Mammon, Asmodeus, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Amon and Belphegor."
"I think that after the whole apocalypse deal, these guys have seen their chance to raise a little Hell of their own."
Dean laughed at the sheer incredulity of it all, and there he'd been thinking they'd just go back to normal. Well, as normal as things got for hunters.
"Okay, so what does this have to do with the job?" He asked.
"I think that the first of the brothers, Beelzebub, has risen. From what I can tell, he's in Hagerman, Idaho." Bobby said, "I think you two should haul ass over there, end him before he gets too powerful. I'll send you the information you need."
"Wait, Bobby," Sam said quickly, "Why do we need your friend there?"
"Because if things go wrong you're gonna need a brain like his." Bobby said, and it was hard to tell if his tone was a amused or frustrated just by talking about him.
"His name's Sherlock Holmes. He'll probably have a friend with him, Doctor Watson."
"Oh, and Dean?"
"Yeah Bobby?" The hunter answered, leaning forwards slightly.
"You play nice with the guy. He can be a dick, but he's useful. Do not punch him"
Console Room, The Tardis, Somewhere in the Universe
The lanky man in the pin-striped suit and sand shoes dashed madly around the main console, his hair sticking in all directions as though he'd just been given an electric shock.
"Doctor?" Rose jogged down the stairs to the console with a grin. "Where we going now?"
"Hagerman, Idaho." The Doctor said,glancing at his companion with a grin, "Something weird is going on there."
"And that's a good thing?" The blonde asked with a laugh.
"Yeah, course," The Doctor said blithely. "You know, good weird... Hopefully, if not then-" He forced an overly sombre expression, "Then it's bad. Very Bad."
"Mhmm?" Rose didn't look convinced, "You'll love it either way."
"Maybe," The Doctor grinned like a lunatic, "But this is unlike anything I've ever seen before. The energy readings, the fluctuations in-"
Rose rolled her eyes, but let him continue because she knew by now he'd keep going whether she wanted him to or not. Anyway, this could be interesting. It had been a while since they'd been to Earth, it would be nice to be back for a while. Maybe even peaceful. Besides, she'd always wanted to go to America.
A smoky bar, Somewhere in Colorado, America
"Captain Jack Harkness?" The woman on the other end of the phone spoke as though she believed herself superior to everyone in every way.
"The very same," Jack grinned cheekily, even during a phone call, "And to whom am I having the pleasure of speaking to?"
"U.N.I.T," Came the short reply and Jack immediately paled.
"How did you find me? Actually, I don't care. What do you want from me?"
"Calm yourself, Captain." The woman sounded amused at his distress. "We merely want to trade with you."
"Trade with me? Trade what?" He demanded, glancing furtively around the smoky and, thankfully, somewhat empty bar he was in.
"We want you to take yourself over to Hagerman, Idaho. There is something going on there, and a man of your... abilities will be useful there."
Jack decided it would be futile to ask about how they knew about his so-called abilities. And where he was. And his phone number.
"And in return?"
"In return we'll give you what information we have on how to find the Doctor."
That certainly sparked his interest, "All right." Jack said, his usual confidence springing back into place. "You have yourselves a deal. But," And now his voice contained a quiet threat. "Don't try to screw with me on this. You don't want a man of my abilities as your enemy."
With that, he hung up, shoved his phone into his long coat's pocket and left a few dollar bills on the bar.