Sherlock/Doctor Who fic: Patience Was Never His Strong Suit, Ch. 5
Title: Patience Was Never His Strong Suit
Fandom: Sherlock/Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Assumes knowledge of the most current seasons of both shows.
Sherlock Characters: Sherlock, Mycroft, John, Lestrade, and the Yarders
Doctor Who Characters: Ian/Barbara, Eleven, Amy/Rory
Summary: “As we learn about each other, so we learn about ourselves.”
Disclaimer: I own neither Sherlock nor Doctor Who; all rights belong to their respective owners.
Thank you to my wonderful Betas, susako and infinityuphigh, for all their help. All remaining mistakes and inconsistencies are my own.
Chapter 1: Laying the Foundation
Chapter 2: Finding One's Place
Chapter 3: Dealing with Loss
Chapter 4: Setting Priorities
Chapter 5: Catching the Prey:
“You’re back, I see,” said Lestrade, his arms folded as a sign of discontent. Done with their part of the work, he sent the rest of the officers home, except Donovan, whom he ordered to stay until Sherlock and the others returned. Anderson remained as well, just out of curiosity, he explained when asked, to know what insanity Holmes had planned.
“Your observational skills are improving then,” Sherlock responded to the Inspector.
“Are all you loonies done playing Martian yet?” Anderson sneered.
“Not Martian,” said the Doctor, rushing past with a box of tin foil. Amy tugged at the roll and they each stared at Rory, who looked a bit uneasy.
“Why do I have to be the bait again?” he asked, as they began to wrap the foil around his arm.
“Because you’re the newest,” said Amy. “Now hold still.”
“You’ll be fine,” said the Doctor. “Don’t worry. We’ll all be watching; what could go wrong?”
“They always say that in the movies,” said Rory. “Right before something terrible happens.”
“Will someone explain to me what’s going on, please?” Lestrade requested, watching the proceedings and feeling as though the last bit of control which he possessed was quickly fleeing from his grasp.
“It’s simple,” said Sherlock. “We’re going to lure the creature back to us and trap it.”
“I’m still not totally convinced there is an alien,” said Lestrade. “We’re losing valuable time in catching the human killer with this nonsense.”
“Actually,” said John. “If I were you, I think I’d rather listen to them.”
“I think you should,” said Sally Donovan.
“Et tu, Brute?” said Lestrade, turning to her in shock. Sherlock and John also paused in their tracks, both curious as to what she would say in response.
“Not at all,” said Sally, giving Sherlock a wry smile. “I just want to watch them fall flat on their arses.”
Realizing that the world hadn’t completely turned on its head, Sherlock walked over to join the Doctor, who had disappeared back into the TARDIS and just emerged again, holding a medium-sized wooden crate.
“What’s in there?” Sherlock asked.
“Temptation,” he answered, displaying a cheeky grin.
Dusk had already set over London, and a chill ran through the air. Sherlock watched with an eager curiosity as the Doctor lay the box on the patch of soil between the pavement and the building. He already guessed at the contents and was pleased to know he was right, that he could stay on par with the Doctor. For a moment, he mused what it would have been like if he had the chance to travel with him like his parents did, but then quickly banished the thought. He craved independence too much to be able to follow someone else’s whims on a constant basis. Also, if he actually had to admit it to himself, he was content right where he was.
The Doctor emptied the contents of the box, revealing several fireworks. “Chinese New Year,” he explained. “A gift from the Emperor Lizong.”
“What do you plan on doing with those?” asked Lestrade.
“Well,” said the Doctor. “The Pelhpoid is in hiding. This lights show will help lure him out into the open.”
“So why are you turning me into a mummified tinman?” asked Rory, waving his metallic arm for emphasis.
“Getting him here is only part of it,” said the Doctor. “Once that happens, we’ll still need to trap him so he won’t escape again.”
The fireworks lit up the sky, and the small group of crime solvers and time travelers murmured their appreciation of the exceptional display of colors and shapes.
“Now,” said the Doctor, “we wait.”
It was but five minutes later, and, sure enough, the group identified a sound similar to a large animal, and Sherlock shivered, picturing in his mind something akin to the Hound during the Baskerville case. Thankfully, if anyone had noticed him tremble, no one mentioned it.
And there it was. It was large, as Sherlock had imagined, with coarse dark hair covering its entire body. But its eyes did not glow red like the burning embers of hell, nor did its face convey the discarded moldings of a demon’s handiwork.
“Oh my God!” Sally gasped in quiet horror. Amy grasped her arm, beckoning her to keep her composure.
Rory, startled for only a moment for having been used to seeing much worse, began his role by shining his torch in the direction of the beast, dancing the light across the floor to attract attention. The beast growled deep in its throat, but kept its eyes firmly on the light. Slowly, Rory moved the light farther away from the Pelhpoid until it shone on his arm, the tin foil reflecting a galaxy of stars onto the nearby surfaces. With its interest peaked, the beast made its way over to the display with large paws protected by sharp claws.
Rory cautiously shifted away, making sure the Pelhpoid followed his lead, seemingly backing himself into a corner before the Doctor yelled “Now!”, and suddenly the Pelhpoid was trapped behind metal bars and crying out a vengeful howl.
“We did it!” Amy cried joyously, running to her husband and embracing him before turning to do the same to the Doctor.
“Well done, Doctor,” expressed Sherlock, coming over to shake his hand.
“Thank you, Sherlock,” he said. “I’m actually a little disappointed this wasn’t a bit more exciting, something to tell your Mum about. Did she ever tell you about the time Marco Polo held us captive so I could share the mysteries of the TARDIS to Kublai Khan?”
“I know all the stories by heart, Doctor,” he said. “And may I just say how disheartening it is to realize how many times I might never have been born.”
“Could have been worse,” said the Doctor.
“Yeah,” said Rory, disentangling his arm from the foil. “Could have never been born and then turned plastic for nearly two thousand years.”
Sherlock raised his brow in question, but decided not to verbalize his thoughts. Instead, he turned to Lestrade, who was hunched over in front of the cage, staring at the growling beast.
“Curiosity satisfied?” Sherlock asked.
“Not in the slightest,” said Lestrade.
“Good,” said Sherlock. “Then there’s hope for you yet.”
“Is that thing safe in there?” questioned Sally.
“Of course it is,” said the Doctor. Immediately, the beast rammed itself into the bars with a great force that caused the cage to shake.
“What do you suppose it is?” asked Anderson. The beast threw itself at the bars again in a fit of anger.
“I told you,” said the Doctor. “A Pelhpoid. From the planet Glob.”
“Glob?” repeated Anderson. “Seriously? Can’t think of anything better than that?”
“I didn’t name it,” said the Doctor defensively.
“You’re making this whole thing up,” Anderson claimed. “There’s no such thing as aliens.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes and grabbed Anderson’s wrist, pulling his hand forward until it touched the Doctor’s chest. “There,” he said. “Do you feel that?”
“T... two heartbeats,” Anderson stammered. “That’s impossible. How?”
“Still don’t believe in aliens?” he asked.
Anderson blanched and silently walked away. No one stopped him.
All the time, the Pelhpoid continued to thrash about its cage, releasing an eerie howl from deep within its throat.
“What do we do with it now?” asked Amy.
“Well,” said the Doctor. “We can bring it back to the TARDIS and return it to its home. Shouldn’t be too much tr-”
Just then, the Pelhpoid burst forth from its confines, the metal bars of the cage now twisted and useless. Snarling ferociously, the beast ran wild down the corridor, toward the direction in which Amy was occupying herself. In just a few moments, Amy shielded her face and twisted her back to it, Rory jumped to push her out of the path of the beast, and Lestrade pulled out his gun and aimed it at the alien.
The Pelhpoid now lay helplessly on the linoleum tiles, gasping for breath and crying out in pain as dark blood painted the floor around it. The Doctor ran over to the alien and knelt down beside it, softly running his hand through its fur, talking to the injured creature in a soothing tone.
“Shh,” he said. “It’ll be all right. Yes, I know... There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“Doctor?” said Amy, coming to join him. The others moved closer as well.
“He’s alone and scared,” declared the Doctor, still petting the beast, “on a strange planet, so very far away from home.” He turned to Lestrade. “He’s suffering. You have to do the honorable thing.”
Lestrade nodded, and pulled out his gun once more. He looked straight into the Pelhpoid’s eyes and said, “I’m sorry.”
John knelt down and flicked on Rory’s abandoned torch, beckoning the alien to focus on something pleasing for its last image of this world or of any in the universe.
There was one loud bang and then silence. No one dared to move.
“You had to do it,” the Doctor told Lestrade. “He would have hurt Amy.”
Lestrade turned away in silence.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Sally, moving away from the scene in order to recompose herself. Amy moved to sit with her and to offer words of encouragement.
“What do we do now?” asked John.
“It’s the body of an alien,” explained the Doctor. “Do you realize what the public would do with access to something like that? We have to cremate it. Then it’s about time my friends and I head on.”
“Is that it then?” asked Sherlock, his voice was quiet, almost sad even. But, of course, why would Sherlock ever be sad? So, no, there definitely wasn’t anything more to his question than simple curiosity.
“I always hate goodbyes,” said the Doctor. He stared at Sherlock, remembering his long ago farewell with Ian and Barbara. “Rory,” he said, turning to his male companion. “I think you can take things over from here.”
“Yeah,” said Rory, “of course.”
“Good,” said the Doctor. “Sherlock, I’d like you to follow me for a moment.” Sherlock nodded and stepped forward. The Doctor turned around and silently led Sherlock back toward the TARDIS.
“The interior looks different than how my parents described it,” said Sherlock as they both entered.
“I know,” said the Doctor. “I’ve redecorated. Do you like it?”
“It’s interesting,” responded Sherlock, shrugging noncommittally.
The Doctor leaned against the rails around the console and folded his arms. “So how is your Mum?”
“She keeps herself busy,” he said. “She’s still teaching and has become quite vocal about helping out with causes and charities. She’s even writing a book.” He noticed a slight upturning of the Doctor’s lips. “I wouldn’t say she was one hundred percent happy, but she’s content with her life.”
“She’s always been a remarkable woman,” said the Doctor. “I tried explaining that to her when I saw her last, but that didn’t go exactly as I’d hoped; well, you know about it...”
“Quite,” said Sherlock.
Suddenly, the Doctor smiled as a thought entered his mind. “But... Hold on just one second,” he said, turning away and heading underneath the console. He knelt down and lifted a part of the metal flooring, reaching inside a cubicle and pulling out a medium-sized box. “Ah, here it is...” He then picked out something small from the box, stood up, and returned over to Sherlock. “I’d like you to give her something for me that I think she’d enjoy seeing. I found it a while back when I was rearranging some things: a memento from our time together.”
Sherlock stared at the object resting in the Doctor’s hand. “The Aztec bracelet of Yetaxa?”
“You know it?”asked the Doctor.
“I know all of your adventures with my parents,” Sherlock explained.
“Pretty cool to know your Mum was once mistaken for the reincarnation of an Aztec high priest and your Dad has been knighted by Richard the Lionheart, eh?”
“Not so much when you can’t tell anybody,” said Sherlock.
“I suppose that’s true,” said the Doctor, trying to show Sherlock an apologetic face, and Sherlock wondered if he had much practice in this area.
“It’s all fine,” said Sherlock, mimicking what he believed John would do in such circumstances. He then took the bracelet from the Doctor and placed it in his inside coat pocket for safe keeping.
“Tell her that I’ve never forgotten her,” said the Doctor. “And I still keep her lessons of trust and respect close to my hearts.”
“Yes,” said Sherlock. “About that... You have two?”
“Time Lord anatomy,” he explained.
“Doctor,” said Sherlock, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d love to get you on an exam table one day.”
“Not the first time someone’s said that to me,” said the Doctor. As an afterthought he added, “Probably won’t be the last.”
At that moment, there was a knock at the door, and Amy entered the TARDIS, followed by Rory. “Sorry to interrupt,” said Amy.
“I should be getting back to the others, anyway,” said Sherlock. “Goodbye, Doctor.” He smiled and extended his hand for the Doctor to shake.
“Maybe we’ll run into each other again someday,” the Doctor offered.
“I do hope so,” replied Sherlock.
He then turned to Amy and Rory. “Take good care of him,” he said, indicating the Doctor.
“Always,” said Amy. She leaned in to give Sherlock a peck on the cheek. When she pulled away, Sherlock stared at her with curious regard. “I know what it was like,” she informed the consulting detective. “Waiting for him, I mean. I’m glad you got to meet him.”
“Thank you,” he told her. He then shook Rory’s hand as well, took one final glance around, and left the TARDIS.
When he was outside, he turned around and paused. There was one more thing he wanted to see. After a few moments, he heard a whooshing sound and a gust a wind whirled about him. He watched as the fantastical blue box disappeared before his eyes.
Sherlock grinned to himself and hummed happily as he made his way to return to the others who were still waiting for him.
“Are they gone?” asked John, who was already walking down the sidewalk in search of his flatmate, when he spotted Sherlock alone and appearing strangely content.
“Yes,” said Sherlock.
“Will we ever see them again?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” said Sherlock. Dawn was breaking as they reached the main road, and Sherlock hailed a cab. “But won’t that be an interesting day?”
Epilogue