TRON: Mystery
TRON: Legacy is property of Disney.
Sherlock is proprety of the BBC.
This is a not-for-profit fanfiction work.
Hi guys. I decided to do a Tron/Sherlock crossover. I'm going to be rewriting the whole film, hopefully...
Tell me what you think.
Also, better name suggestions needed.
PROLOGUE.
Good Evening. Our lead story.
ENCOM CEO and video game icon Kevin Flynn has disappeared.
He was best known for designing Tron and Space Paranoids, the two bestselling video games in history.
Flynn took ownership of Encom in 1982 as the company skyrocketed to the top of the tech industry.
But things changed in 1985 with the untimely death of Flynn's wife, the mother of his young son, Sam.
With Flynn missing, the company is now in chaos.
Supporters say Flynn is not missing and is instead pursuing the dream of "A digital frontier to reshape the future."
Only time will tell.
"I need a case!" Sherlock huffed, throwing himself back in his chair, dragging his legs up to his chest. John surrendered, knowing he wasn't going to get through his newspaper, and put it aside, standing with the resignation of a parent. He slipped his shoes on and Sherlock watched him, cautiously, still wearing his heavy coat and shoes.
"Where are you going?" he asked, with an edge of a whine in place. John rolled his eyes,
"You're the genius. Deduce." A wicked grin spread over Sherlock's face and he leapt up as John pulled on his jacket and did it up. A quick-pocket pat and they headed out, Sherlock's head swivelling like a wild bird's.
"There's nothing on the emails." Sherlock nodded at John's words. Obvious, why else would we be leaving?
John watched him cautiously as they got in the taxi. Scotland Yard loomed up and Sherlock practically bounced out of the vehicle, sweeping dramatically toward the door. John paid, keeping an eye, watching the persona change as he popped his collar, gaining that hard expression. Lestrade looked up with surprise as they entered, and then an expression of almost annoyance slipped into the very same one that John wore earlier. Donovan sneered, and Anderson was nowhere to be seen- the rest of the forensics team were out, too. So the office was surprisingly quiet as Sherlock pushed the door open to Lestrade's office.
"I don't have anything." he said, sounding definitely irritated now. "You know I don't have anything, Sherlock!"
"Cold cases, then." Sherlock had a snap to his voice. John sighed slightly. He must be seriously bored if he was willing to do cold cases, though.
Lestrade considered for a moment, then turned, walking to a cabinet, picking a pale yellow folder from the top. He threw it in front of Sherlock. Landing with a dull slap in front of Sherlock, the consulting detective raised an eyebrow.
"This case has sparked some interest. A new bit of evidence, but it was discarded. Twenty year old disappearance. Any good?" John leant over to peek at it, Sherlock flicking it open as Lestrade spoke. The image of a fourty-something with gold blonde hair, slicked back, leather jacket...
"Kevin Flynn." John read aloud. "I remember that. He's had a game company or something, didn't he? Racing game."
"ENCOM. Still around now. Questionable morals, though." Lestrade frowned. "My first son was born when Tron came out." he smiled slightly, not noticing Sherlock's scowl of displeasure at the disgusting display of sentiment. John frowned, "I never got into Tron. I was just too old." he murmured.
Sherlock snapped the file shut, John jerking his hand away just in time."I'll take it." he said, and turned smartly on his heel. John nodded a goodbye and followed after the man.
"So, where are we going?" he questioned the tall man, glancing up.
A soft smile was playing about the pale lips.
"Flynn's Arcade."