Hi! I kept thinking about a story where BBC's modern Sherlock and John traveled back in time, but not just in Sherlock's mind palace like in the Abominable Bride. I hope you like it!
Set in 1895, and all from the point of view of modern day Sherlock and John.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock, only the specific plotlines that I write. All rights go to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Steven Moffat, and Mark Gatiss.
A/N: Please review/follow/favorite! I would appreciate it so much!
I've never been to London or even England (or Europe, for that matter) nor have I ever time-traveled to the Victorian era, so there might be some inconsistencies, but I'll try to keep it as culturally and historically accurate as I can.
"Any new cases?" John asked Sherlock one morning. The detective was sprawled on his armchair, his eyes shut.
"No," Sherlock said flatly. "I'm so bored, John. It's been a week since we've had a case!"
John opened the fridge and took the egg carton out.
"How do you want your eggs, Sherlock?" John asked, ignoring his friend's complaints of boredom, which occurred nearly every hour that they didn't have a case.
"Hmm. I don't care. Scrambled," Sherlock decided, and his eyes opened. He reached for his violin and began to play a rather nice tune, unlike the mournful sounds he usually played. He only stopped once John had told him breakfast was ready.
"John, how do you do it?" Sherlock asked, taking a small bite of his food.
"Do what?"
"Keep from being bored! Is there a secret that I'm unaware of?"
"Well," John said, smiling slightly, "you could always take up a hobby. Knitting, painting, singing…" He trailed off, entertaining himself with the prospect of the last one.
"Dull, dull, and dull," Sherlock said in a monotone voice. "I'm calling Lestrade." He opened his phone and dialed a number.
"Hello, Gordon. Do you have any cases?"
There was a pause as Lestrade answered on the other end. John waited, hoping desperately for there to be a case, because Sherlock was belligerent when he was bored.
"How are there no murders?" Sherlock was insisting. John sighed and went into the bathroom to shower. He was shampooing his hair when there was a sharp rap at the door.
"Sherlock! I'm showering!" John shouted.
The detective's baritone voice drifted, muffled, through the door. "I'm not stupid, John. That was fairly obvious. But hurry up. Mycroft has a case for me."
"But I thought you didn't take Mycroft's cases, to spite him?" John asked. There was a barely audible groan of frustration from the other side of the door.
"I'm bored, John. Now, do hurry up. Be dressed and ready to go within two minutes." Footsteps indicated Sherlock had left the door. John cursed his flatmate, then hastily rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. It took him another seven minutes to get dry and dressed, and by the time he reached the landing to join Sherlock, the latter was looking at his watch pointedly.
"Seven minutes and fifty-three seconds, John," he said, running down the stairs like an antelope. "Let's go! Though of course Mycroft himself is dull and slow, his description of the case sounds fascinating!"
Fifteen minutes later, they were standing in Mycroft's office.
"I've got a serious case for you, Sherlock. That means that you cannot blow this off nor can you treat it as a 'game'," Mycroft began. Sherlock muttered something unintelligible.
"We - 'we' as in the government - are aware of a serial killer in the year 1895. All of the serial killer's victims were important scientists that contributed to the study of astronomy."
"Boring. Mycroft, I thought I came for an interesting case. I don't plan on doing any research, so I hope you've gathered all of the historical information that I'll need."
"I expected as much and already prepared a file on the serial killer and his victims," Mycroft said, smiling placidly. "You may not think that astronomy is important, but to the rest of the world, we lost seven great astronomers to this serial killer."
"So what's the case?" Sherlock asked, leaning on his elbows onto the desk. Mycroft placed his hands underneath his chin contemplatively.
"Before I tell you, I need you to swear to not tell anyone what I am about to divulge. This is completely confidential, and Sherlock, if I find you telling others about it, or…" He turned to John. "Or, John, if this next case is published on your blog next month, I can promise that you will regret it."
"Mycroft, you're telling us it's confidential. We won't tell anyone, and if you don't trust us to not tell, then I don't see why you're trusting us with the case," John scoffed. "Get on with it and say what the bloody case is."
Mycroft regained his cold demeanor.
"I'd like you to go back to 1895 and capture the serial killer before he murders the great astronomers of the Victorian era."
Sherlock gazed unblinkingly at his brother. "I take it that you're not kidding. I presume that you've somehow devised with a team of scientists a way to go back in time?"
"Precisely."
"Tell me more," Sherlock said in the tone that he reserved for only his brother.
"We've done a bit of testing with the machine and have discovered several qualities about it. First, time will not move in the modern era while you two travel back in time; that is, when you return, it will be the same minute as when you left. In fact, we're not even sure if the modern age ceases to exist until the time machine brings you back to present day." Mycroft surveyed John. "Are you keeping up?"
"I'm not that thick, Mycroft," John said, offended.
"Mycroft, he may be ignorant at times, but I can vouch for his above average intelligence," Sherlock snapped. "Please continue."
"We have also discovered that users of the time machine do not age while in a different era," Mycroft said. "This is of interest and is under research at the moment. It is thus far presumed that the interference with time disrupts the body's natural aging. If you spent a year in the Victorian era - not that you'll be there that long - you would return in exactly the same state as when you left."
"What are the risk factors? Are there any chances of death?" Sherlock asked.
"None that we're aware of yet."
Sherlock considered his brother. "What do you think?" he asked, turning to John. "Do we take the case?"
John was aware that Sherlock was asking for his opinion only to irritate his brother, because he scarcely asked for John's opinion with typical clients on whether they should take a case or not, but he was pleased by it nonetheless.
"I don't know. Is it fascinating enough?" John said, knowing full well that Sherlock would be bursting with excitement if it was Lestrade's case and not Mycroft's.
"I suppose we'll take it, brother mine," Sherlock said in a reluctant tone, snatching the file out of Mycroft's hands. "When are we starting?"
"Today, if you would please. There's been a breakthrough in astronomy but we're missing some essential knowledge, and it is the hope that saving these astronomers will reveal information that we didn't have previously. You'll be taken back to September second of 1895, a week before the serial killer's first victim."
Sherlock stood up quickly, smoothing his coat and adjusting his scarf. "Let's go, John. Take us to the time machine, Mycroft."
"So this is it?" Sherlock asked, palming a small metallic circle with several dials and switches on it. "The… 'time device'?"
"Yes. Turn the dial to the desired date and pull the switch. Unless you want John left behind in present day, I suggest that you both are holding onto the device as you turn the switch."
John examined the small device. "I thought it would be a huge machine with a tangle of wires and such," he said, marveling at the simplicity of it.
"Those are incorrect suppositions portrayed by movies," Mycroft said in a superior tone. "Sherlock, do not lose that time device. It's your ticket back to present day once you've finished your case."
"I'm not idiotic, Mycroft," Sherlock said, tossing the time device in the air and catching it again. "Right. Let's go, John."
"Do not throw that into the air!" Mycroft said, flushing, as Sherlock flipped the dials with his nimble fingers. "Ensure that the device returns safely! It is a breakthrough of modern-"
"John, hold on," Sherlock commanded. John took hold of the device with his friend, and Sherlock waved to his brother before flipping the switch. With a clap of thunder, everything went black.
I've read time travel fan fictions before where the plot moves too slowly, so I'm trying to keep it at a reasonable pace. The next chapter will begin with Sherlock and John already in the Victorian era, so follow if you want to read more! Please leave a review with what you think because I'd be so grateful! I'm also open to suggestions for events that take place in the Victorian era to modern Sherlock and John, so if you have an idea, please please let me know in a review; it'd be very welcome! Thank you so much for reading!