Sherlock Holmes and the Vortex of London Bridge
(A/N: I'm not sure if you'd call this a crossover or not as I have only used an idea from Kate & Leopold and combined it with Sherlock Holmes, but I suppose I'll say it is such until I am corrected. Anyhoo...this is going to take place at the end of Sherlock Holmes (2009 version) on London Bridge/Tower Bridge, whatever you wish to call it, but instead of Irene being up there with Holmes, it is Watson and it is also nighttime. Why? Because I said so and if it was otherwise, this story just would not work. So, without further ado, the story…)
The icy night air seemed to cut through their clothes as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson chased Lord Henry Blackwood to the top of London Bridge. Newly constructed, they dodged their way around coils of rope and other such hazardous material until Blackwood came to a halt in front of them. Blackwood had stopped just short of a massive gap between the two sides of the bridge and Holmes felt a swell of triumph inside him.
Just as the great detective was about to reveal the mysteries of Blackwood's so called 'magical abilities', said Lord did something very strange. He looked at his pocket watch, and then turned and cast them an eerily wicked smile before turning and running straight for the gap. "Stop him!" Holmes cried and he and Watson took off after him. Holmes managed to grab the tail of his coat as Blackwood leaped from the bridge.
"Holmes!" Watson cried and reached out for his partner's wrist to pull him back but it was too late. Blackwood was over the edge, dragging Holmes after him and Watson who clutched desperately to his arm into the cold water of the Thames.
"Oi…" the sound came from nowhere and everywhere at once, "You alright? Sir? Can you hear me?"
Holmes made a groaning sound as his eyes opened to see an elderly man leaning over him, his kind and worried looking wife at his side. He sat up, his head swimming and his hands dug into the silt… silt? Where was he? London Bridge…he remembered the bridge…and Blackwood and…
"Watson!" he cried, leaping to his feet in an ungainly manner, nearly causing him to topple over. The other man put a hand on his upper arm to steady him and asked him if he was okay. "Where is Watson?" Holmes demanded frantically.
"Your friend, you mean?"
"Yes, yes, where is he?"
"Calm down, he's alive. We haven't managed to wake him yet though," the man replied and Holmes pushed past him to see his dear Boswell lying sprawled on the ground beside the river. He dropped to his knees beside him and placed his ear to the doctor's chest, relieved to hear the slow but strong thrumming of his heartbeat.
"Watson," he said, shaking the man's shoulder, "Watson!" he proceeded to tap his face until he stirred slightly, mumbling. "Wake up," he gave him another firm shake and the doctor finally opened his eyes, "Mm…Holmes? Where are we?"
Holmes turned and looked at the man and his wife again. What peculiar clothes they were wearing! Especially the woman who was wearing…Good Lord! Trousers? The only woman he had ever seen wear trousers was Irene Adler. They seemed to be observing his own attire in bewilderment.
"Where are we?" Holmes asked the man.
"London," he replied, looking more and more concerned; for Holmes's sanity no doubt. Well Holmes was plenty sane, sane enough to know that this was not London.
"You're quite sure?" Holmes said incredulously, to which the man pointed to some point behind the detective's head.
He turned about to see London Bridge standing there, a sight more complete than before and he became more and more confused. At first he thought that maybe this was a dream but if that was the case, he should have woken up or been able to take control of it when he realized what it was. No, everything here seemed vivid and stable, albeit bizarre.
"Who are you?" was his next question to which the man said, "Harvey and Sylvia Marsh. Do you know who you are?"
How insulting! "Of course! I'm Sherlock Holmes and this is Dr. John Watson!" he retorted, waving a hand towards his companion who had also risen to his feet, looking terribly confused.
Mr. and Mrs. Marsh stared at them for a moment in shock before Harvey started to chuckle, "You? Sherlock and Watson? How hard did you bump your head, son?"
Holmes blinked, unable to speak for a moment. They knew of them? But why did they find their identity so humorous? "Yes, indeed we are. May I inquire what it is that is so amusing?"
"You really haven't a clue, do you?" the man asked, his voice beginning to sound serious once again.
"Well obvious-…"
"Pardon me sir, but my friend and I have had quite the night and I was wondering if we might trouble you for a ride to Baker Street?" Watson cut in.
The man laughed more boisterously this time, taking Watson aback. "You've got to be kidding me! Baker Street, he says!"
"I don't mean to be rude, sir, but what is so damn funny?" the doctor demanded, starting to feel angry.
The man's laughter ceased and he regarded their serious expressions for a moment before saying, "Good Lord. You're quite convinced then, aren't you?"
Holmes and Watson did not reply and weren't really sure how to.
"Come on then," the petite Sylvia said brightly, "You can stay with us for now."
Harvey regarded her with momentary surprise before finally nodding in acquiescence and gestured for them to follow. Holmes and Watson trudged along after them and for the first time had the chance to fully observe the surroundings. To their surprise, on one side of the bridge were older buildings, most of which they recognized and on the other side it was a different story completely. The buildings were strange looking, futuristic with clean cut lines and many windows. But by far the most alarming were the machines they saw zooming about down the roads.
"What on Earth-…" Watson began when Holmes stopped dead in his tracks, causing the doctor to slam into his back. He was about to ask him what happened when he caught sight of it himself. Mr. and Mrs. Marsh had led them straight to one of the strange behemoth machines, and Harvey was holding the back door of it open for them. The thing was painted dark blue and it had what roughly looked like a face on the front of it with small protruding mirrors on either side.
"Is this…thing…some sort of electric stagecoach?" Holmes asked, stepping forward bravely.
"You've never seen a car?" Harvey asked, dumbfounded. Obviously, Watson thought, they were still under the impression that they had bumped their heads when in actuality; it was they who were speaking nonsense. Car! What the devil was a car?
His comrade seemed exceedingly more interested in the foreign contraption and had begun to examine it in his usual way. He gave one of the large wheel-like black things holding it up a kick and he mentioned something about rubber. Then he flicked the metal part of the…car…and sniffed the paint. Harvey cleared his throat impatiently, drawing Holmes's attention.
"Excuse me, Mr. Holmes, but you're supposed to get inside the car."
Of course, he didn't take too kindly to being thought stupid, "I know that! It's only wise to inspect what you're about to trust your livelihood to." Harvey rolled his eyes but said nothing. Holmes continued his inspection and then climbed into the backseat. "Come along, then Watson. It doesn't bite!" he called from inside the great thing, a laugh in his voice. Watson grumbled away to himself as he cautiously took his seat next to Holmes.
Harvey took the front seat; the one with what looked like a smaller version of a wheel that steers a boat. Sylvia sat next to him and Harvey pulled out a key, inserting it into the car and turning it. Watson jumped visibly when the motor roared to life and Holmes gave an excited laugh, clapping his hands, "Excellent!" he cried, "How ingenious!"
The car lurched backwards and then forwards, causing Watson to yelp and grip onto the seat with one hand and Holmes's sleeve with the other. The latter grinned to himself, adapting easily to the monster of a machine. "This is the future, Watson," he beamed, "Imagine all of the other things to discover!"
"And imagine how much harder it will be to find Blackwood!" Watson added, feeling a bit nauseous.
"Oh posh, don't spoil all of the fun before it begins! This is going to be a real adventure, I can feel it."
"I feel something…Harvey, can you pull over?"
(A/N: Well? Thoughts? Please? :D)
