Disclaimer: Not mine. Nope, nope, nope.
A/N: *shrugs* I have no idea where this came from. None whatsoever. No specific time for either series but sometime in either series one or two would work… You just really need the basic information on everyone here.
P.S.: Oh, I've only watched American television and movies and I have no idea what would really happen if something like this were to happen in real life but this is a story. No need to be one hundred percent accurate. I'm not writing a manual or anything here… (cause that would be slightly worrisome to be honest not to mention getting me on lists that I wish to avoid at all costs as I'm just writer here).
Beta: Lady of the Shards
The Unexpected Body
The man fell to the ground with a thump, a bullet in his head. He was dead.
The man who shot him searched his body quickly, while he ignored the scream from the woman who had just turn the corner with a man – who immediately called 9-9-9 as a result – while he cursed at his luck.
Oh well, the shooter would be long gone by the time the police showed up anyway and it's not like he had to answer to anyone but his boss anyway.
He found what he was looking for – a flash drive – and took off, in the opposite direction of the screaming woman and the man who was calling for help.
"And that's how it was done?" asked Lestrade looking at the body, befuddled, before looking back at Sherlock.
"Obviously," said Sherlock in his usual voice when he has to deal with idiots.
"Remind me never to take candy from someone's nephew then. That uncle and aunt were vicious," said Anderson, staring at the unfortunate victim.
"It shouldn't be a problem for you, Anderson, you have none and you make children cry when you get within nine point one four four meters," said Sherlock, loftily.
Anderson scowled at Sherlock. "That's not true."
"That's not possible, Freak," said Donovan at the same time, glaring at Sherlock and moving to stand by Anderson.
Lestrade sighed. At least they saved their quarreling until everything was done. He started to direct the rest of the officers on the scene to start packing everything away.
"It is," countered Sherlock, barely looking at Donovan. "I conducted an experimented on it just last week. I blogged about my findings on –"
"Sherlock," John cut Sherlock off.
Sherlock looked over at John in askance.
"We have a thing," said John.
Now Sherlock looked confused.
Lestrade, however, looked relieved. Trust John to know when to step in and diffuse the situation.
"Thing? Please use the brain you went to university with, John, and elaborate," said Sherlock.
John rolled his eyes at his flatmate's tone, opened his mouth to respond but before he could, the radios that all the police officers were carrying chirped to life simultaneously and Sherlock's eyes brightened.
There was a bunch of police garbled code words to make sure the police were listening and then, "Possible shooting, one male victim, unresponsive. Witness saw the possible shooter headed in the southeast direction." Street names were provided as well before the operator asked for the closest unit to respond.
"No, Sherlock," said Lestrade at once, glancing at Sherlock and seeing how alive he looked at the possibility of a chase.
"We're the closest, only four streets away – it's surprising none of us heard anything. We could easily be there in a few minutes, if we run fast," countered Sherlock. "We might even run into the suspect."
"All the more reason for you to stay away!" countered Lestrade right back.
Sherlock looked at Lestrade as if he were one step away from becoming the biggest idiot in the world.
Lestrade sighed and nodded his head, knowing Sherlock would just follow him anyway and responded to the operator via his radio. When he was finished, he quickly turned to Donovan and Anderson and said, "Donovan, stay here and supervise the scene until it's cleared. Anderson, with me." He called a few more officers to come with him as well.
Donovan and Anderson agreed quickly to his plan – thank God they were professional and could do their jobs at a drop of a hat when it was needed.
Lestrade turned to look at Sherlock and John and could barely see the end of Sherlock's coat whip around the corner as John followed him.
"Son of a –" said Lestrade as he took off after Sherlock and John with Anderson, grumbling the entire time about Sherlock, and the other officers following. In this instance, Lestrade couldn't help but agree with everything Anderson was saying.
Lestrade arrived at the scene to see, unsurprisingly, John trying to calm down the witnesses, apparently there was more than one, and Sherlock already heading towards the body.
If Lestrade had more breath in his lungs, he would have told Sherlock to stop. However, Lestrade also knew it was pointless and so he decided to save his breath for more important things – like breathing. Good God, when was the last time he ran like that? He was going to have to start working out again.
He slowed his pace slightly and turned to the officers – the bastards weren't even out of breath yet – and said, trying not to show that he was taking deep, heaving breaths, "Move the witnesses, keep trying to calm them down and find out what they witnessed. Two of you start the procedure to block this alleyway off."
"Yes sir," they all said and went ahead of him to where John was.
Lestrade turned to face Sherlock, trusting his officers to do their job, and noticed how Sherlock had a peculiar look on his face. Lestrade sighed. He could already tell he wouldn't like this one.
"Anderson with me," said Lestrade as he headed towards Sherlock at a jog.
Anderson let out a gasp of breath that Lestrade took as an acknowledgement. Apparently he wasn't the only one who needed to start working out again.
Sherlock saw Lestrade and Anderson head in his direction and he was more than sure that this was a bit more than not good. He knew what was going to be happening any moment now to this man, having witnessed it once before – fascinating – and he was sure that wasn't supposed to be witnessed by anyone without the right clearance level, Mycroft was oddly insistent on it, which he was sure Lestrade did not have let alone Anderson.
"Anything?" asked Lestrade as Anderson got to work doing his job.
Sherlock looked up at Lestrade as if he were the biggest idiot in the world – which was saying something as Anderson was within feet of him. He obviously took that final step tonight.
Sherlock ignored Lestrade, and his sigh, as he glanced in John's direction and saw that he was coming in his direction.
'Definitely not good,' thought Sherlock.
He wondered if he could – why did John's face get a sudden look of recognition? John, as far as Sherlock knew – and Sherlock knew a lot – did not have the right clearance level to know this man.
John was now looking around to see who else recognized the man and he caught Sherlock's eye and tilted his head to the side in askance. Sherlock inclined his head slightly in answer with a slight head turn of his own in return to ask John if he knew what was about to happen. John's answering grin was enough of an answer to Sherlock.
Sherlock continued to ignore Lestrade and moved to stand bedside John, knowing what was about to happen in the next few minutes and wanting a front row seat, as it were.
Sherlock turned to look back at Lestrade, who sighed again and turned to help Anderson until more personnel arrived.
John, whose grin faded slightly, asked Sherlock, while still watching Lestrade, Anderson and the body on the ground, "Sherlock? Shouldn't we-?"
"No," said Sherlock simply watching the scene intently.
Anderson bent down bedside the body and Lestrade moved around the body – probably wondering where the other officers were and what was taking them so long.
Suddenly, the man jerked upwards, grabbing hold of Anderson, taking a big gasping breath as he did so.
Sherlock and John stood and watched passively, having witnessed this before. They were, however, waiting with barely contained glee for the reactions that were soon to happen.
Lestrade jumped back from the man, as far as he could before something as inconvenient as the wall stopped him from going back any further, and shouted out, "WHAT THE HELL?"
Anderson, however, jerked free of the strong hold the man had on him – adrenaline was a wonderful thing thought John – and let loose a high pitched, quite girlish – if John and Sherlock were being honest – scream as he ran away, back in the direction of the other crime scene, apparently finding it safer than this one.
Lestrade, heart still pounding very fast and hard in his chest, Sherlock, John and the still heavily breathing man turned to watch him run incredulously – as if they couldn't believe what was happening in front of them.
John was the first to break the incredulous silence as he let out a giggle causing Sherlock to look at him which in turned made Sherlock start to laugh.
Lestrade turned to look at the pair of them and glared while trying to get his heart beat back under control.
"You knew this was going to happen? Both of you?" asked Lestrade. He sounded scandalized – as if he hadn't expected John to be apart of the deception.
John shrugged still laughing while Sherlock didn't bother to respond.
"Who is he? How did he do it? He was dead! And what about Anderson?" asked Lestrade.
"Someone's obviously not used to the dead coming back to life. Hello, Captain Jack Harkness," said the man, who had stood up by this point and was standing by Lestrade before Sherlock or John could answer. He put his hand out to shake a confused, and slightly flustered, Lestrade's hand.
Sherlock, not laughing outright any longer, let out an undignified snort and said, "Please, Captain."
The man, Captain Jack Harkness, looked at Sherlock confused and said, in an innocent tone that Lestrade didn't buy for a minute – especially since he was still shaking his hand, "I was just saying hello, Sherlock."
"Of course you were and I'm actually secretly fond of Mycroft," said Sherlock, rolling his eyes.
John had stopped laughing as well and now looked at Sherlock confused. Did Sherlock actually know he was suppose to say something he didn't mean when saying something like that?
Captain Jack Harkness just grinned handsomely at Sherlock and winked while he still shook Lestrade's hand.
"Um, do you mind stopping?" asked Lestrade to the captain.
Jack made a questioning noise as he turned back to Lestrade and Lestrade gestured to their hands which were still pumping up and down.
"Right!" said Jack and he stopped shaking hands with Lestrade and turned back to Sherlock and John.
"So Sherlock Holmes and Captain John Watson. How have you boys been?" asked Jack as he walked over to them and gave them each a hug.
Sherlock looked distinctly not pleased with his hug while John just accepted his.
"Not dying," answered Sherlock for the both of them.
"That's the spirit," said Jack, grinning at them.
John shook his head amusedly and Sherlock started to stare at Jack and walk around him.
"What are you doing Sherlock?" asked Jack looking at him.
Sherlock didn't answer him but he moved his head back so he was looking at John.
Jack looked at John inquiringly and John answered, "He's trying to figure out how you died."
"Oh, I know who did it. It was –" started Jack.
"Shh! Do not breath another word of it," said Sherlock, glaring at Jack, as he continued his work.
"You still do your thing then?" asked Jack, grinning at Sherlock.
"What is with everyone tonight and forgetting their vocabulary! It's not a 'thing,'" said Sherlock, still glaring at Jack but with an intense look in his eyes, figuring everything out.
"Ah," said Sherlock in understanding coming to a stop in front of him.
Jack raised his eyebrow impressed. "You got it that fast?"
"You're still impressed?" asked John.
"You're not?" asked Jack back.
John thought for a moment and said, "You've got a point."
Jack nodded and then turned back to Lestrade, "You hanging in there Detective Inspector Lestrade?"
Lestrade started and said, "I'm fine." He then looked suspicious and said, "How do you know my name? I didn't say it?"
Jack just winked again while Sherlock barely held back a derisive snort. Barely.
"I have to go find a co-worker now and kill them. They stole my backups," said Jack as he started to walked away from them but before he left completely, he left the three of them with one final comment.
"Drop me a line if you need help getting rid of your spider, Sherlock."
A/N2: Yeah so… That last line just kind of happened. There are no plans for a sequel right away, though I won't rule one out either if I have enough ideas. After all, I don't actually know that much about Torchwood – just the basics really as I'm still in the process of watching them but I do know what's going to happen in the entire series as I googled the show long before I watched it as I came across a fanfic I wanted to read but I needed some background info… Anyhow, if I do a sequel, it might not necessarily be a Torchwood crossover… *fades away from page, pondering deeply*