A/N: Bla-de-bla-de-bla-de-bla... It's Fourth Doctor, in case I haven't said that before.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Why do you keep asking me this?! *collapses sobbing*
K-9 entered the TARDIS to find the Doctor slumped against the wall of the console room looking worried. He jumped up. "K-9! You're back! What took you so long?" "I found some... interesting people. I was investigating them further." "And what did you think?" "I concluded that you should meet them. One in particular intrigues me. I'll tell you about them on the way there." "Alright." said the Doctor, leaping up to stride over to the console. K-9 intercepted. "Master, we may want to walk." "What? Are you suggesting my driving skills aren't good enough?" "Yes, master." "Oh, fine then, I suppose you're right."
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K-9 and the Doctor entered the flat to find it empty. The Doctor wandered over to the mantelpiece to stare at the skull's empty eye sockets. "Hello, skull. Is it nice on that mantelpiece? What's your name? I think I'll call you Timothy. You look like a Timothy to me." He then loped over to the couch and threw himself down on it. "This is comfortable." he decided as he took a bag of jelly babies out of one of his many pockets and started eating them. K-9 rolled into the kitchen and settled down.
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Sherlock and John entered the flat to see a tall man with a voluminous mop of hair and an equally voluminous coat with an extremely long scarf draped casually around his neck lying on their couch eating jelly babies. "Hello John, hello Sherlock. Would you like a jelly baby?" he offered, holding the bag out. "I decided to call your skull Timothy. It looked like a Timothy to me." "No, I would not like a jelly baby, and its name is George. He was an old friend of my fathers, and I found him useful to talk to before I had John-" Sherlock suddenly clammed up. He hadn't even told John about it being an old friend of his father's, but this stranger, presumably the Doctor, just seemed to make you want to tell him your life story. John just looked vaguely amused. The Doctor regarded him with a curious stare. "K-9!" he called back into the kitchen. "You never did tell me which one intrigued you. I presume it was John?" K-9 slowly trundled out of the kitchen. "No, actually, master. It was Sherlock, but John is also interesting." John waved his arms. "Hello? Here?". The Doctor returned his stare to him. "Ah, sorry 'bout that. Are you sure you wouldn't like a jelly baby? These are very nice ones, from the forests of Asdelimno. They actually do grow on trees there! Just imagine that for a moment. A whole forest, full of jelly babies. One of the best planets I've ever been to. Of course, there are many other nice ones, and a few not so nice ones, but very few come close to beating that." John retained his vaguely amused expression. "Thankyou, I think I will try one." "I presume you are the Doctor" Sherlock butted in. "Yes, indeed I am. I hear K-9's helping you on a case? I've always found him a great help, though he's less obedient than you'd expect a robot to be." The Doctor stared down at K-9 seriously before cracking into a manic grin. "Could I be of any help?" "... Yes, could you try to find out as much about Robert Lance, the museum caretaker, as you can while we go interview the girlfriend?" Sherlock requested. "Sure! I can do that!" "May we take K-9 with us?" asked John. The Doctor looked down. "What do you think, K-9? Can they take you with them?" "Affirmative, master." "Well, there you go! You should really always ask him, I can't decide these things for him." "Ok then, we'll see you soon!" John called out as he hurried to catch up with Sherlock and K-9, who were already out the door.
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Sherlock and John clambered out of the taxi, and John took K- 9 out. The cabbie had looked at them oddly when they brought him in, but John didn't really trust cabbies anymore, not since A Study In Pink. They went into the house that was apparently where Felicity, the girlfriend lived. John had asked Sherlock how he'd found this out, but he hadn't given any answer, at least not a clear one. They knocked, and someone who looked suspiciously like a butler answered the door. "Yes?" he asked. "Do you wish to see Ms. Sorrows?" John glanced at Sherlock. "Yes." he answered. "We're with the police." The butler looked startled. "Why do you wish to see Ms. Sorrows? I assure you we have done nothing wrong." "We'd like to question her in regard to a murder." "A murder? Come into the parlour, I'll inform her of your presence." They were led into a grand parlour after he had taken their coats. Sherlock started pacing up and down. "Just sit down!" John hissed. Sherlock completely ignored him and continued his pacing. John sighed heavily and gave up. "It must be very useful being down at that level." he said to K-9. "No-one ever bothers to look down, do they?" "Not unless I make a noise, no. It has come in handy before." "Better be quiet again, someone's coming." The butler walked in. "Ms. Sorrows will see you now." John stood up as the butler walked out. A dark- haired woman with piercing blue eyes walked in. She was extremely beautiful and very aware of it. "I hear you are with the police?" she stated. "Yes. We're investigating the murder of Robert Lance." Sherlock said bluntly. She drew in a sharp breath. "He's been murdered? But... Have you got any leads yet?" "No, not yet." John said. "We were informed you may be able to help us." "Ask me anything, and I'll try to answer as best I can. I just can't believe it's him." "Do you know if he had any enemies? Or rivals?" "Yes. I presume you know he worked for the British Museum?" "Yes." John lied. "Well, he had a highly valued job. There were plenty of people who wanted it. I wouldn't have thought any of them would kill for it though..." "Do you know his associates, close friends...?" "Of course I do, we were married." John glanced at Sherlock in surprise. "When were you married?" Sherlock asked. "A year ago. I would have presumed you knew that." "Of course, just checking on the details." John lied. "Well, his best friend was Larry Brown. He's known him since university, they studied Economics together." "Economics?" "Originally he wanted to be an accountant." "Ok. Do you know Larry Brown's address?" "34 Lupus St." "Thankyou very much Ms. Sorrows. We may contact you again." Sherlock said. "Alright then." she said, looking faintly surprised. "Do you want my phone number?" "Yes please." John interjected. She scribbled it down on the front sheet of a notepad lying on the coffee table. "Here you are." she said, handing it over. "Thanks a lot." John said as he got hurried out the door. "Goodbye."