"What the hell is happening here?!" Father John Watson shouted, not even caring about his choice of words as he started walking from the altar to the Detective Inspector at the end of the pew. "This has been going on for weeks! Weeks! My church is in danger, fewer and fewer people attend the mass! This is ridiculous!"
If the Father -who once served as the priest for the soldiers in the Afghanistan war and a trained fighter as well- could whip out his gun and point and shoot his problem, or so help him.
"Father, we're sorry. But we're doing our best." DI Lestrade apologized. His attention divided when a carriage stopped at the entrance of the church, Sherlock Holmes and a younger looking man stepped out of it.
Sherlock nodded at the driver of the carriage and said something to his companion before they approached the priest and the DI side by side. The young man looked around the place, taking it in.
"Lestrade." Sherlock greeted.
"Sherlock. This is Father John Watson of Westminster Cathedral." Lestrade introduced and gave Dean a stern look, willing Sherlock to introduce his company.
"Hello, Father. This is Dean Winchester, a friend of mine from America -he arrived earlier this morning."
"A friend?" A woman's voice intervened. Speak of the devil.
"Yes, Donovan. Dean is a friend. His father and I have known each other for quite some time when I travelled to America when I was just a boy, and so is Dean's father when he studied here in London." Sherlock lied again, smoothly.
Dean nodded at the people in front of him. The woman, Donovan was joined by an equally shit-looking man who kept on trying to sass Sherlock off in vain.
"Anderson, stop trying to level me with your knowledge. We both know the heart was surgically removed, suggesting the killer is a surgeon with medical experience that allows him to work with such precision."
"So we're not just dealing with a psychopath, we're also dealing with a frigging doctor. Great!" Father John sarcastically said.
Lestrade ordered the two to get back to their work as Sherlock surveyed the Father in front of him. The Consulting Detective's eyes flickered here and there, noting tell - tale signs of the priest's life. Dean observed the interior of the church, it was beautiful really. The young hunter stared at the stained glass depicting the stories from the bible.
What caught Dean's attention was the black haired baby angel with blue eyes and folded black wings sitting beside a brown haired one with golden wings who smiled brightly at the blue winged angel in the center. The black haired baby angel seemed to be looking right through Dean with his intense, electric blue eyes and Dean couldn't shake the feeling of the angel until he was snapped out of his reverie when Sherlock's voice boomed in the otherwise silent church.
"Tell me Father, Afghanistan or Iraq?"
"Im sorry, what?" Father John asked, confused.
"Where did you served as a priest, doctor and soldier. Was it Afghanistan or Iraq?"
"Afghanistan. I'm sorry how did you-"
"Dean, how do you feel about some running around in London? I need to drop by St. Barts."
Dean looked at Sherlock then nodded, "Sure, sure. Lead the way."
"Brilliant! Let's go. It was nice meeting you Father. See you soon." Sherlock said. Dean gave the priest a smile and nod as his own goodbye before following the Consulting Detective outside and into London's cool air.
"So, what's up with the priest?" Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows at Sherlock.
The detective sighed and hailed a passing carriage with no passenger.
"St. Barts Hospital" the driver gave a curt nod and Sherlock opened the door for Dean then he answered: "Nothing, he's a priest, soldier and a doctor who served in Afghanistan and retired when he was shot in the left shoulder." He got in once Dean was seated and continued his deduction. "He has a slight gait on his steps suggesting he has a limp; a psychosomatic limp but he has it under control, it was caused by the wound on his shoulder."
Dean huffed and shifted his coat so he could cross his leg and sit back on his seat. "And what is waiting at St. Barts?"
"The hearts." Sherlock answered excitedly.
The carriage stopped to give way at the crossing for vendors carrying their goods across the street, a man jumped to the window at Dean's side of the carriage and continued to bounce excitedly on his feet.
"Mr. Holmes! Thanks be to the Lord, I don't have to go to your flat anymore to give this to you." The man holds a posh and official looking envelope towards Dean to pass to Sherlock. "It's an invitation from Lord Moran."
Sherlock accepted the envelope with a gloved hand, sparing Dean a glance before asking. "Why is the good Lord Moran wishing for my presence at his manor? Is there a special event?"
"Yes sir," the man nodded. "Lord Moran will have a dinner party. A very important friend of his arrived and he'd like him to get to know his acquaintances."
"I see. Well then, thank you. And please send my regards to Lord Moran as well."
"Of course, Mr. Holmes." The man said and retreated as the carriage started to move again.
Dean was getting worked up by the occasional rattling of the vehicle causing his expression to scrunch up in an annoyed manner. "Who's Moran?" he asked.
"Lord Moran. It's Lord Moran when you're out in public, Dean."
"Oh yeah sure. Wait." Dean leaned in, dropping the volume of his voice. "Lord Moran as in Sebastian Moran?"
When Sherlock gave a curt nod of confirmation and put the invitation in his coat pocket Dean blurted out. "Holy shit, Sherlock!"
"Yes, Dean. I know."
"Holy- really?! And what, you're going to that dinner party?"
"No." Sherlock smirked, "We're going."
Dean gave him his own bitch face. Was he really requesting Dean to attend the dinner party with him, the dinner party of a man who tried to kill Sherlock for a second time in the books? Well if this wasn't nuts Dean didn't know what was.
"That's nuts! He'll-"
Sherlock kicked his foot to shut him up, "He's not going to do anything yet. We're not in that story."
"But we're in the same book."
"Shut up, will you? We cannot risk talking about it in a public place."
"Whatever you say, but I'm not going to that bastard's dinner party." Dean pouted, he crossed his arms and stared aimlessly through the window beside him –watching the pathway filled with people, men in coat and hat, women wearing dresses with corsets. Victorian Era, huh. Dean thought
What Dean didn't notice was the man who was watching the whole exchange as they passed by the red and blue coloured house.
Sam followed the Doctor as he paced around the interior of the TARDIS. "I really hope you're not hungry yet, Sam. It has been ages since I used the kitchen."
"Nah, I'm good. Where to now?"
"I don't know! But that's where the fun lies isn't it? Surprises!" The TARDIS started humming and groaning, Sam held on to the controls, smiling like a child on Christmas day.
"Where did you set it?"
"I'm hoping I can introduce you to a friend of mine." The Doctor answered and the TARDIS stopped moving.
"Yeah? Who would that be?"
"I don't know." The Doctor cryptically answered. "Mahatma Gandhi?"
Sam looked shocked, his eyes going comically wide while his mouth hung in an open smile. "You're kidding."
"We'll see!" The Doctor said walking to the door with a bounce in his steps. He held it open for Sam who grinned brightly and ran to him. They stepped out of the Time Machine together and into an alleyway. Up ahead in the distance, Sam saw people in coats and dresses walking –horse carriages passing by.
"Oh blimey!" The Doctor said laying a hand on the closed door of his TARDIS. "I wonder why you took us here."
"Is this…" Sam frowned and look up to the Doctor. "London?"
"Yeah."
"Wow! It looks like this in Dean's books!" Sam said, now striding down the street with the Doctor close behind him.
"What book?"
"Dean loves Vonnegut, but he adores the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle especially the Sherlock Holmes novels." Sam said, smiling proudly. "Dean is very smart, he just don't let it on."
The Doctor hummed his acknowledgment. "Well, lets see what year it is so we'll know if we get to meet Arthur, maybe we can get an autographed copy for your brother."
"Cool! Lets go!' Sam said before pausing on his heels. "Don't we uh- look different from these people?"
"That jacket should do it for an 11 year old like you." The Doctor said, "I have this coat for me and just walk like you own the place. It works for me." The Doctor winked and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder, leading the boy out of the alleyway and noting what it was called so they wouldn't lose the TARDIS.
Out in the busy streets with throngs of people striding and minding their own business. The Doctor caught a newspaper from the vendor to the side of him and read the headline quickly, taking the date in and some events.
The Doctor returned the paper and led Sam the other way, "July 17, 1887. And a certain Lord Moran is going to host a dinner party tomorrow night at his Manor."
"Wait, what? Did you just say Moran?"
"Yes, that's what I said."
"Moran as in-" but before Sam could finish a man started shouting, brandishing a placard with the words "Another attack at the church!"
"Another attack! Another heart was sent to Westminster! Another attack!..." he goes on and people started to gather around him, asking questions about the abrupt news.
The Doctor frowned at that and kept young Sammy close to his side, he looked down at the boy and mumbled "Stay close, Sammy boy."
Sam nodded and watched the Doctor talk to a man in his mid 40s by the looks of it.
"Uhm- excuse me sir. I just returned from a trip and quite behind of some events. But what's happening to the church?" The Doctor asked.
The man fidgeted and put his hand in his pockets before leaning in to the Doctor as if talking about conspiracies. "It's the Westminster Church. Visitors and churchgoers are disappearing from there every Sunday after mass. And then days later a heart is sent to the church, the heart of the victim. This is the fifth one." The man finished gesturing at the huddled people talking about it.
"And what about the police?"
"Nothing. They found nothing."
"I see." The Doctor shook his head. "Thank you sir."
The man bowed his head and spared the people a glance, shaking his head and walk away. Which left the Doctor and Sam outside the huddled group of people talking in either loud or hushed tones.
"Hearts sent to the church. Sounds like someone wants Sunday terror." Sam commented. "This isn't anything I know."
"Hm, what is it that you know?" The Doctor asked.
"Creatures that definitely do not leave the heart untouched." Sam answered.
"Well, lets go then." The Doctor led Sam passed the gossiping crowd of people but Sam stopped in his tracks when he caught a name.
"Detective Inspector Lestrade doesn't know what is happening! Scotland yard has no clue!"
"And where is that private detective they are consulting -what was the name? The one who lives at Baker Street?"
"Sherlock Holmes!"
"Yeah, where's Sherlock Holmes!?"
"I saw him at the church earlier, he must be helping the police solve this case too!"
A loud noise from a whistle interrupted the people's exchange and they all ran off their own separate ways as officials appeared at the end of the street shouting for them to go back to their own businesses.
"Stop talking about things you're not supposed to talk about!" A constable with a moustache and face reddened with anger shouted and the people dispersed. Leaving a clean street and people resuming their businesses.
"Doctor, Doctor!" Sam said, pulling at the Doctor's coat to catch his attention as they stood on the pathway, backs against the wall. "You heard those people, right? Why did they say Sherlock Holmes, and Detective Inspector Lestrade? Those guys are fictional! They live in Dean's book!"
The Doctor shushed him, putting a finger in his own mouth –gesturing for Sam to shut up. "I don't know, but we'll see."
The Doctor strode to the officer, head held high to show an air of dominance as he clasped Sam's hand and pull the boy to a step beside him. "Hello officer, I'm Detective Inspector John Smith." The Timelord introduced, brandishing a leather holder with a blank paper to Sam –but the Constable hummed in acknowledgment- "May I ask, exactly, what is happening here?"
"It's Constable Clark, sir. It's the church sir. Uh- its a case I think you should discuss at Scotland Yard with Detective Inspector Lestrade, sir." The Constable said, fidgeting and wary of the people who's trying to be inconspicuous while they listen at the conversation.
"Oh of course, yes. And is it true there's a new… attack?"
"Yes, sir. Do you require a ride to the yard?" the officer offered, "I could request a carriage for you."
"No its alright, I'll manage. Besides I'm not really here for a job I just inquired. I'm merely showing the place to my son." The Doctor said and tipped his head at Sam's direction.
"Oh well, have a safe trip, sir. I need to go now." Constable Clark bid his goodbye to the Doctor and Sam and ordered for his men to go back to their positions and others back to the yard.
Sam rounded to the Doctor. "Are we…?"
"In a fictional world?" The Doctor said –his eyes following the movements of the officers as they disappear at the end of the street. "I think so, yes." He smiled down at Sam who grinned back at him.