Chapter Two: The Sighting
"Tosh, are you getting anything on the scanners?" Captain Jack Harkness; the leader of Torchwood Three based in Cardiff, Wales, was wondering if any temporal rift activity was happening.
"Nothing right now Jack. This is very strange. Usually at this time of day the scanner readings are off the scales." Toshiko (or Tosh) Sato, a member of Torchwood, who specializes in surveillance technology, said.
"Maybe the alien bastards are taking a rest." Owen Harper, who got recruited for Torchwood because he was a doctor, said. "It's about bloody time. I could use a rest from catching alien scum for a while." He leaned back in his chair, putting his arms behind his head and his feet on his desk. "Gwen gets time off, why can't I?"
"Because, Owen. You know her boyfriend Rhys. If she doesn't check in with him once in a while, all hell will break loose." Jack stretched, yawning. "God knows she deserves it."
"Jack!" Tosh said. "There is someone outside the base!" Jack hurried over; his eyes locked on the screens.
"Who is it? Is it Gwen?"
"No. It looks like…" She typed on the keyboard, and the surveillance footage showed up on the monitor. "Two men. One taller than the other. The taller one is wearing a long coat and blue scarf, and the other looks like he's freezing to death." She glanced at Jack. "Do you know these people?"
Jack nodded. "Yes. Before I recruited you…" he gestured around the whole base. "Well, Ianto was already here." He smiled in the direction of his lover. When they locked eyes, Ianto blushed. "Anyway," He continued. "Before I recruited you, I was monitoring an alien craft falling from the sky. I followed it to the crash site, and I saw him there." He pointed to the taller of the two men. "He was examining the body that got smashed by the ship. He was very arrogant; confident in his work. He wouldn't let me even near the body; he was set on figuring out what happened to it by himself." Jack paused, chuckling. "He was stubborn as hell. Before long though, he started rattling off a solution to the murder. He was dead-accurate. He even knew what galaxy and species the alien ship was from." He shook his head in mock surprise. "I still can't believe it. I asked him how he knew all of this stuff, and he said 'I learned it a long time ago. I used to travel with this man…this madman.' Then he turned to the police officer behind him, said 'If that's all you need, Lestrade, I'm leaving.' Turned on his heel, and walked away." He walked toward his coat hook where his long coat hangs. "Later, I asked the police officer who that man was. He said 'His name is Sherlock Holmes. He's a great man. And one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one.'" And with that, he put his coat on and walked toward the door, to go see the very same men who, in 48 hours, will be known for the rest of their lives as heroes.