Sherlock stepped out of the post office and cut a swathe through the crowds of tourists in the street.

John was stepping out of a restaurant with a pretty woman. He didn't see Sherlock until it was too late.

"Another one, John? Excellent" he patted him on the shoulder in passing and shouted over his shoulder "you can tell me all about it before bed tonight. Your turn to bring the wine!"

John got in early that night and stood in front of Sherlock, who was happily reading.

"Romeo, romeo," he rolled his r's, "wherefore art thou Ro-meo."

"Cock-block Sherlock."

"What are you talking about?"

"She refuses to believe I'm single. Said we're 'too familiar'."

"Ah well, plenty more fish and all that jazz."

"She's a former model. I was this close" he held up a thumb and finger, "to getting a shag."

"Close but no, ahem, cigar."

John feigned being deaf. "What's that, Sherlock? You want me to what? To? To slap you until you come to your senses? Well, if you insist..."

"John!" Sherlock shouted between ducking slap attempts from John made too wide to retain proper stance. "John! It's subtext, remember! I didn't say-!" John swung a little too widely at Sherlock and flung himself forward with it. Sherlock considered in a microsecond about moving but remembered proper falling technique which John obviously wouldn't know. They both keeled over and landed in a heap on the rug. Sherlock moaned about his head hurting, called it his Precious, and John moaned about Sherlock crushing his arm and pinning him down under his massive shoulders.

"Interrupting?" A stunned Lestrade stood in the doorway, and went to turn to leave.

"NO!" They both barked. "It's subtext!"

"I brought you a present."

Sherlock leapt up like a coiled spring and pulled John up by the arm.

"A case?"

"A veritable mindfuck of a case, yes."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let me put it this way," Lestrade got a twinkle in his eye Sherlock rolled his eyes at, "there's something strange. In the neighbourhood."

John caught on "There's something weird-"

"Oh no, it's contagious-" Sherlock pined, ignored.

"And it don't look good. Who you gonna call?" Lestrade looked at John.

"Not. Me." Sherlock finished bluntly.

"Aw, you ruined that" Lestrade said, hands stuffed into pockets.

"I don't do psychics, ESP, EVP, hauntings, psychic fairs, or any other manner of oddities you throw my way to wind me up. Remember that psychic I almost punched?"

"Ghostbusters – wait, what? What psychic?" John added timidly.

"He calls him The Borer, Acor-" Lestrade was interrupted.

"They're a waste of my time. And you want answers, yes? I can't get reason out of most of those people."

"But you're our only hope-"

"Anakin" John finished.

Sherlock huffed. "You two are a terrible influence."

"This coming from the puppet master" Lestrade pointed.

John had a sudden mental picture of Sherlock looking down on everyone. Eerily accurate. "Can't hurt to take a look, surely."

Sherlock opened a drawer and glanced at the scientific contents therein. He appeared satisfied. "Let's go, but we're taking coffee on the way."

"I'm buying" Lestrade placated.

The detour included a coffee stop and a brief interval where Lestrade picked up some papers from the office.

Sherlock amuses himself at office visits by building various weapons in Lestrade's office. Today it's an improvised crossbow. Which he fired at the picture of Anderson's face on the wall photo of staff members.

"Excellent aim." Lestrade noted when he came back for them.

"Thank you." Sherlock bowed.

A tall chiseled American swaggered onto the scene.

John tried to pull rank while Sherlock was making an assessment and pulled out his military ID, telling the "prick in braces" to "make yourself scarce."

The man pulled out his own ID, read 'Cpn. Jack Harkness', grinned dozily and added "Snap!"

"Bugger."

"Not now, I'm working." Jack Harkness winked. "Promising start though, last time I worked with a cute Doctor, I only got a kiss out of it."

Sherlock slithered into view and addressed Jack as Captain.

"Have we met?"

"No, I saw you talking to my John."

"Ah, my reputation precedes me."

"Your cologne precedes you."

"Hey, whatever works." Jack ventures a hand.

Sherlock shook it firmly without removing his gloves and they exchanged names. "Well?"

"What?"

"When are you taking over this case?"

John scoffs. "He's not-"

"Oooh, clever clogs." The Captain eyed Sherlock up. "I like that."

"You're not from around here, are you?"

Jack's face became smooth with an unusual reserve. "Almost too clever."

"I'll remind you my brother is among the highest members of the secret service and I've worked with him on cases before. If you require another brain on your team - for the more interesting cases only, contact me through him."

"What about your website?"

John interjected excitedly "You read that?"

"On the way here. My team pulled up the files of all associated members to the department." Sherlock looked impressed for once. "Speaking of my team…" A stern looking woman in a leather jacket shoved Anderson out of his haunt at the entrance doorway.

Sherlock smiled. "I like her."

"She's a peach."

Sherlock's head swiveled to scrutinize the Captain. Pre World War word use. Clothes match. Clean boots. Clean cuffs. Alien accent. Traveler. "Which planet are you from?"

"A galaxy far, far away."

"Are there any others like you?"

Jack's eyes twinkle. "Not in this world." John looked perplexed at the exchange, as if Sherlock were flirting.

"What's the time Captain, my watch is broken?"

Jack looked to his wrist, exposing the technological lump which had shown in the outline of the sleeve before. Sherlock used the fleeting seconds to memorize the device's unbelievably advanced appearance. He registered in some recess of his brain that the Captain had told him the time.

"Ah, thank you. Well come now, John, let's leave the Captain to this one."

"What? Why?"

"If he needs us, he'll call us." Sherlock offered Jack a parting handshake and briefly pumped just once.

"Er, ok, bye? Do you know what happened?" John looked puzzled.

"I know this Captain is more than capable of handling this type of case. We have other leads on other cases waiting John..." Sherlock tried to steer John away without obviously holding him by the waist. The boys on the force would talk.

"You know, what I find odd?" Jack half-shouted across the street, a thumb in a brace over his shirt.

Sherlock stopped and turned.

"Your watch is working again, I noticed when I shook your hand."

"It must be your energetic presence. Alas, time stops for no man. Laterz."

He heard Jack laughing as he walked off toward the Tube station with John in tow, who was out loud pondering if Jack was the guy he'd seen in a gay bar once cage dancing in military uniform.

"Friend's birthday party." He explained.

Sherlock's mind ticked over all he'd just seen and was filing it away for personal research.