A/N: Okay, so… I was supposed to type forward another project when this one ambushed me. Completely out of nowhere. It was scary, really! As for the final result… I'll let you decide.

WARNINGS: some violence and a bit of gore, language, adult themes… one character being revealed to have a massive secret… heh, the usual lot

DISCLAIMER: Oh, I wish…! But nope, I own nothing about these two BRILLIANT TV-shows. (sighs sadly)

Awkay… This is my first ever crossover on these shows and just my second ever 'Who' related fic so I'm insanely nervous. So, before I chicken out… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

The Adventure With the Doctor and the Beast

The Morning of the Living Dead

The wind was blowing bitterly through London while two men made their way towards the edge of Thames, a thoughtful silence surrounding them. Neither was fazed by the large group of police men already buzzing there. Nor were they overly upset to see a covered corpse nearby the river bank, although the sight definitely wasn't pleasant.

Just another day in the lives of hat detective Sherlock Holmes and his faithful blogger Dr. John Watson.

One of the Yarders already examining the grim sight began to approach quickly the second he spotted them. "About bloody time you showed up!" DI Gregory Lestrade chided. "I texted you two hours ago."

John gave the man a loudly speaking look. Apparently the doctor had had a very, very long morning. "He had to finish his latest experiment first."

Sherlock shrugged, deaf to the jab. The detective had already dressed himself to the proper gear and was gliding towards the body like he owned the crime scene. "I couldn't let the ears go to waste, now could I?"

Greg darted a questioning look towards John, a slight hint of green on his face. The former soldier shook his head, doing the finishing touches to his own crime scene investigator's outfit. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

From wide, unfortunate experience Greg knew to take John's word for it.

By the time they reached the corpse Sherlock was already swirling around the nearby environment, fast on his way to noticing every possible clue the police had inevitably missed. "This one died at around two in the morning. So far we don't have any ID or suspects. There was also another body, found from Thames. Drowned", Greg revealed. "There was nothing that you would've been able to spot on that one so we sent him to Molly."

"I may want to visit him later." Sherlock cast a loudly demanding look at the corpse. The man's fingers were drumming impatiently. "Well?"

Greg sighed. "It's… not a pretty sight", the DI warned them. Then moved away to white blanket.

Sherlock gave no other indication to having been affected but an unexpected blink. John shivered, a very unpleasant taste rising to his throat while all color drained from his face. "Christ…!"

There on the river bank lay a naked tall, well built man of around John's age with shortcut brown hair and at the moment dead, wide grayish blue eyes. It was safe to say that his death wasn't fast and painless. There were far more bite marks and open wounds to be counted. Blood loss was definitely the cause of death. The kick marks on the ground suggested that he'd been fighting back hard and trying to escape but he never stood a chance.

"See?" There was a grim look on Greg's face. "I told you that this wouldn't be a pretty sight."

"No human would've been able to do this", Sherlock muttered, examining the deceased intently. "At least without the proper equipment. And the fang marks are too large for any dog breed."

"So…" John was quiet for a moment, processing. "You're saying that this was done by some… large wild animal? We don't have anything like that here in the middle of London."

"That's the mystery, isn't it?"

Right there Sherlock's keen eyes discovered something. Glowing in the faint light of a Autumn morning's lazy sun. He frowned, moving closer.

It was some sort of a metallic stick. Like a pen or a screwdriver, only bigger as well as much too bizarre and expensive looking to be either. And then, of course, there was the strange yet extremely beautiful bluish green shine.

John and Greg both leaned closer, examining the object with baffled expressions. "What the hell is that?" the DI breathed out.

"I don't know", Sherlock grumbled after a prolonged pause, the admission tasting bitter on his tongue. He frowned, turning the mystery item in his glowed hands. "But this case just became interesting."

Well, perhaps it wasn't just another day, after all.

In general Molly Hooper liked her job. Well, at least as much as it was proper for anyone to enjoy the work of a coroner. But facing the bodies was never a pleasant task. And this one had drowned. Those were always amongst the nastiest cases.

Molly took a breath, bracing herself for a gruesome sight. Then moved away the white sheet. Only to face anything but what she'd expected.

The man on her table looked nothing like someone who'd spent ages underwater. In fact he looked… very good, in far more ways than she cared to think about at the moment. Someone who'd been found early on, then. Small mercies.

Molly was about to proceed until something made her freeze entirely. Was the victim's chest moving? No, he couldn't be…!

At a astonishing speed her hand flew to the bare skin of his chest. It was still a bit warm, although he'd spent a while in Thames in a bitter October morning and afterwards quite a while on her table, waiting to be processed. The heat wasn't all she felt, though. There, underneath her hand, a heart was beating.

Molly's eyes widened while her blood ran cold. "Oh my god…!" she gasped, staggering a step backwards. This can't be happening…!

After a few moments of pure shock she finally began to move, as though in a trance. Trembling to the core of her being she leaned closer and closer, until her head was pressed against his chest. Sure enough, there was a heartbeat, directly underneath her ear. And… Hang on a moment…

Another heartbeat underneath her hand, which was also pressed against his torso.

If such was possible Molly's eyes widened even further while she backed away once more, her own heart racing and her mind whirring a million miles per hour. What the hell did she just hear? Was she going crazy or was there something seriously wrong with the corpse before her? Aside the fact that he refused to stay dead, obviously.

And then his eyes flew open, revealing two pools of vivid brown.

Molly's head was spinning so badly that it was a miracle she didn't pass out while he sat up quickly, looking around with clearly visible curiosity. "Where am I…?" he muttered to himself, his voice a bit raspy and scarcely audible. His eyes then widened with realization. "Oh…!" Slowly, slowly he looked down, taking in his state of undress. He blinked twice, very quickly. "Oh!" That, apparently, was when he finally chose to notice her. "There was a woman with me, Donna. What happened to her?"

Molly could only stare. When she finally spoke her voice was absolutely pathetic. "You… You're dead", she sputtered.

"Nope." He was about to jump off the table when he seemed to remember once more that he was naked. He didn't quite blush but there was a degree of discomfort on his face. "Could I… have my clothes back now? I'm in a bit of a hurry."

Moving in a trance again Molly fetched a plastic bag that was supposed to be evidence and handed it to him with far from steady hands. She had the time to see a bit more than she was supposed to before she finally managed to spin around to give the dead man some privacy, a radiant heat blossoming all over her face and neckline. Her heartbeat was showing no signs of calming down and she was still struggling to figure out just what was happening.

Was this all some sort of a weird dream?

"Where is it?" She'd been so absorbed by her thoughts that his voice startled her. There was a frantic look on his face while his hands fumbled animatedly, going through his clothing. "My screwdriver. Where is it?"

"I… I'm sorry", Molly managed, just barely regaining her ability to speak. "But… That was all they found you with."

Those were clearly not the desired news. The man kept searching, twirling around in a way that under different circumstances might've seemed comical and muttering constantly under his breath. Molly, finally regaining some sanity, decided to take advantage of that distraction. She backed away to what she hoped to be out of his earshot but didn't dare to leave him alone into the room. As soon as she got to a safe distance she snatched her cell-phone although her hands were barely able to hold a thing.

Thankfully Sherlock picked up relatively quickly, for once. But he didn't sound pleased. "I'm in the middle of a case, Molly."

"So am I", she announced weakly and swallowed hard, unable to tear her eyes away from the stranger. "I… I have something that you may want to see. Bring Lestrade along, too."

TBC

A/N: Aaaaand, that's how we the adventure starts out.

So… What's the verdict? Was that any good at all? Extermination material? PLEASE, do let me know! I'd be overjoyed to hear from you.

Awkay. It's getting pretty late around here and I'm already dreaming of going to bed. THANK YOU, so much, for reading! Who knows, maybe I'll see you around one day…?

Take care!