Sorry guys I had to re-upload them after my hard drive crashed but I've been given the gift of time so I'm gonna get on with the stories =)
Timelords and Taxis – Chapter 1
'Sherlock,
There's been another murder, same M.O., no clues, any input?
Lestrade.'
'Sherlock,
The body count is rising, still no lead, do you want me to beg?
Lestrade.'
'Sherlock,
If you don't continue your duties as a consulting detective I might have to do a search of your premises for any illegal substances.
Lestrade.'
"Don't you think you should help out Lestrade?" said John. "He's texted you several times in the past few days."
"Yes, thank you for the obvious John." Sherlock retaliated.
"Err well why aren't you helping him?" asked John.
"Not interested, the case is obvious, Lestrade's acting stupid and it doesn't help to put Anderson on the crime scenes."
"Oh god, is that why? You and this stupid battle with Anderson?"
"No it is not the reason and it is not a stupid battle as there is no battle as I am the only one competent enough to be in a battle."
"Phone Lestrade now! We need the money after your accident."
"Oh come now John, that was extremely unfair. Beside's it was hardly an accident."
"Hardly an acci..! You blew up four rubbish bins in Trafalgar Square! Not to mention the poisoned breadcrumbs you left for the poor pigeons."
"Yes, well pigeons are despicable creatures; they carry several types of disease and do nothing but eat the breadcrumbs out of dying pensioners' hands."
"The diseases pigeons carry aren't deadly as long as you've had your injections. You have had you injections right?"
"Mrs. Hudson!" shouted Sherlock. "Isn't it time for tea?
"Oh Sherlock! Tea will have to be cancelled I'm afraid, you haven't got any milk!" said Mrs Hudson.
"Well, Mrs Hudson, can't we use yours? "
"Sherlock! You never take a lady's milk! That's as bad as taking a girl by the elbow!"
"Actually Mrs Hudson I bought a fresh carton yesterday, they're next to the knee caps." Interjected Watson.
"Dear me Sherlock! What do you get up to in your time?"
Sherlock sighed at the sheer thought, Boredom, purely and simply out of boredom did he dabble in the business of cadavers. Plus the added benefit of no human interaction, well alive interaction, meant he could he feed his 'disorder', he smirked at the preposterous name. How could being a highly functioning sociopath be a 'disorder'? It enabled him, how else could a person anticipate the manoeuvres of the British Army to avoid capture after exploding those bins and starting a mass bomb scare across all of London. None. That's who, no one. Well, there was one person who could possibly evade the Army, the woman.
Irene Adler, the Dominatrix, her brain was one of those Sherlock was so intrigued by he wished she had died in the Middle East, so he could inspect her cerebral cortex for that mysterious spark that he believed to have himself. However he had to save her life since it may have been in vain. She suffered from the tragedy that is love. Love, what good is this pathetic emotion, the only use it has is a release of endorphins and Sherlock was able to manipulate these endorphins with a cocktail of drugs he enquired through his sources which Lestrade was now blackmailing him with.
"Fine! But if I get bored it is on your shoulders." Sherlock sighed.
"Great! We need the money so get to work." John smiled.
The doorbell to 221B was pressed for a whole 5 seconds, a curious way to grab a person's attention but none the less it certainly intrigued Sherlock. He sprang from his seat and pushed aside Mrs. Hudson who was making her way to the door.
"What has gotten into him?" she asked.
"I guess it's excitement" John queried.
Sherlock flung the door open to a woman with big, frizzy hair. She was wearing a fitted white leather jacket with tanned riding trousers and knee high military style heels. Sherlock's brain whirred to life, she was a challenge, and she seemed to be a professional but at what? She cocked her head and smiled.
"Hello my name is Doctor River Song. Can I borrow a hammer?" said River.
"A hammer?" Sherlock frowned "Why on earth would you need a hammer?"
"Why because there is only so much a girl can do with her heels." She replied.
Sherlock reached behind the door and pulled out a reasonable small sledge hammer. River yanked it from his hands and swivelled on her heels to smack a rather peculiar device that lay on the floor smoking. River continued to hit the device until it made what could only be described as a computerized bomb explosion, similar to a retro text tone on Sherlock's phone. River then handed back the sledge hammer without even turning around to see if Sherlock was still there. He quickly plucked the hammer from her grip and placed it back in the umbrella stand. He looked back to see her attaching the device to her wrist with the leather buckles that made it seem like a steam punk bracelet.
"Of course!" Sherlock blurted. "You're a doctor of Archaeology!"
River's eyes widened. "How did you deduce that?"
"The tight yet light leather jacket and you heavy duty heels all suggest one thing." Sherlock summarized. "You work on excavating artefacts in an office environment which explains the cleanliness of your outfit."
"Very clever, then again this is the age where smart Is the new sexy." River teased.
"Just one thing I don't understand." Sherlock admitted. "That bracelet is highly advanced for this day and age so who on Earth are you?"
River giggled. "For your generosity I'll tell you a little secret." River leaned in and whispered "I'm part Timelord!"
"Oh of course." Sherlock sighed.
River jerked her head back in bewilderment. "You knew I was part Timelord?"
"No, no." Sherlock dismissed. "You broke out of the asylum and are the one who's being committing all the murders Lestrade can't solve."
River smiled at the thought. "Oh I broke out alright, but not from a loony bin, oh no... From Prison."
Sherlock smirked. "Don't lie to me. You obviously come from a mentally disturbed place as it explains this fictional belief of being a Timelord."
"Well what can I do to prove I'm a Timelord?" River huffed.
"You can't prove something that doesn't exist." Sherlock proclaimed dryly.
River let out a deep sigh similar to Sherlock which made him think she too was bored of this tedious conversation.
"Give me your phone." River demanded extending her arm and flexed her fingers as if talking to a toddler. Sherlock raised an eyebrow unimpressed in the manner he was just addressed, but he did as he was told. River whipped the phone around and at the same time pulled an odd contraption from her pocket. She aimed it at the back of the phone, the device made an unusual pulsing noise along with a flashing blue light. She flipped the phone back around and entered a 24-digit phone number. Sherlock could only make out 22. '6012-9945-4856-7022-1895-09**' but it did not matter. His phone stored phone numbers recently used and besides, it would not work, no number was 24 digits long! But to Sherlock's surprise River Song received a dial tone.
"Hello Sweetie!" River grinned. "Well I'm sorry but how was I to know you were fighting the headless monks again?" "Well, my vortex manipulator crashed and I borrowed a sledgehammer and this phone from a curiously bizarre man at ... 221b Baker Street, I'll see you in 20 seconds." River ended the call and handed Sherlock his phone back.
"I'm sorry but you just dialled a 26 digit number, talked to someone who was fighting 'headless monks', and asked them to pick you up in 20 seconds. That is impossible and only proves my theory of you breaking out of insane asylum and committing ritual murders." Sherlock summarised.
"Oh, they're 'ritual' murders now are they?" River questioned.
"Well, yes of course. I've read the files, each murder had a single body tied to a chair in the centre of a room, and nothing else was different about the crime scene until you shone a UV light on the floor..." Sherlock was cut off by a strange noise which could only be described as a 'VWORP' and a hug gust of wind that disrupted the fall leaves from the oak trees that were methodically placed along Baker Street. John had joined Sherlock at the door by now as Mrs. Hudson had complained about the draft from the gust of wind that had been caused by this wonderfully blue 1960's police box. John was beyond confused, he knitted his eyebrows and with a turn to Sherlock he said. "How... how... how did that...Is that a police box?"
"Not just any police box."Replied River, "A type 40, Mark 3, TARDIS with a broken chameleon circuit that is permanently stuck on a 1960's police box disguise because The Doctor likes it that way. It is also my biggest competition for The Doctor's attention, oh well, boys and their toys. Do you believe I'm part Timelord now Sherlock?"
River had said it like it was the most natural thing in the world yet both John and Sherlock knew they were dealing with something way bigger than an insane asylum escapee.
John did a double take again and asked Sherlock.
"Timelord?"
"Oh please John, a blue box has just materialized in front of your eyes and you're questioning a simple word used to describe oneself who deals with thing like this on a daily basis."
At that moment a peculiar man had jumped out of the TARDIS, he wasn't peculiar in the sense that he had three feet or blue skin although Sherlock thought both were highly reasonable considering he was dealing with the abnormal. The peculiar man was so because of the way he dressed, he dressed like a college professor with a tweed jacket and leather elbow pads, red suspenders and a matching bow tie. But the most abnormal thing about him was his hat. He was wearing a Jesters hat. River raised her arms, huffed, and then dropped them to her hips. Sherlock got the impression she was his mother or wife.
"I said it a thousand times, no hats!" River yelled.
"Wife." Murmured Sherlock.
"But hats are cool." Whined the peculiar man.
"I don't care, no hats, now take me home." River demanded.
River strode towards the man yanked the hat off of his head and threw it into the police box. The man now slightly disheartened sighed, and then perked up again as if it had never happened.
"Hello, I'm The Doctor" he said. "And you are?"
"Sherlock and this is my friend Doctor John Watson."
"Friend, Yes, of course." Blurted The Doctor.
"So what is that police box? A TARDIS was it?"
"Yes, it stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space..."
"So basically it is a time machine." Sherlock interrupted.
"Well, yes but TARDIS sounds so much cooler."
"No it doesn't." Said River and Sherlock in unison.
"Through Time and Space, going from Place to Place. How is that not cool?" The Doctor proclaimed, his extended as he twirled. "Now how about a tour and a quick trip, you can be gone a week and be back as if you never left."
"Well obviously, you just said it was a time machine, the idea of a time machine is to go to another time period and be able to come back after."
"Right." The Doctor agreed. "On with the tour."
The Doctor took a running leap and clambered into the TARDIS.
"Now, as you'll see it's bigger in the inside..." started The Doctor.
"Again you point out the obvious. You just ran in here so it was easily bigger on the inside as you had no second thought about hitting the back wall." Sighed Sherlock.
River and John followed. John stood in the spot, mouth agape, taking in his surroundings. River just leaned up against a supporting beam and twirled her hair between the fingers looking even more bored than Sherlock.
"How about an adventure?" suggested River.
"Where to then?" smirked The Doctor...