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padawanpooh ([personal profile] padawanpooh) wrote2009-05-15 11:02 pm

Torchwood/Holmes crossover: Tools of the Trade (PG rating) (Harkness, Holmes & Watson)

Title: Tools of the Trade
Author: [personal profile] padawanpooh
Characters: Jack Harkness, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson
Rating: PG
Length:900 words
Summary: In the mid 1890's Jack Harkness asks Sherlock Holmes to do him a favour.
Disclaimer: Harkness = BBC property. Holmes & Watson = Conan Doyle property. This story = my imagination.

Holmes found the intruder lounging in his favourite chair, reading his copy of that morning's Times.

“And you are?”

The man flashed a shocking grin. “Captain Jack Harkness.”

Holmes nodded. “Head of Torchwood. I thought our paths would have crossed long ago.”

“Well, Holmes, I’m a firm believer in letting a capable man have his head.”


“Once you were up and running back in the Eighties I knew you’d be able to deal with the mundane horrors of London. Left me time to fight the real nightmares on this world.”

“Captain Harkness, I have better things to do than pass time with such a conceited popinjay. Either state your business or leave.”

“Ah, but I’m such a pretty popinjay, don’t you think?” Harkness fixed Holmes with a predatory stare. “Be careful, Holmes. You’re good, very good, but I’m better.”

Holmes snorted. “You’re a manipulator, Harkness. I’ve heard all about the disappearances; the countless unfortunates you placed in Bedlam, or worse.”

“Collateral damage, Holmes. You’re hardly above playing judge, jury and executor yourself.”

Holmes glared at Harkness, a chilly silence descending. Then the moment was broken as footsteps were heard on the stairs outside the room.

“Holmes! I hadn’t expected you back for another few hours. Is this gentleman a new client?”

“I’m more of an advisor, Doctor Watson.”

Holmes turned to his friend. “This is Captain Harkness, Watson, a man singularly unable to come to the point of his visit.”

“Okay, Holmes, whilst I love a little verbal duel as much as the next guy I’ll put my cards on the table.” Harkness stood, dropping the newspaper on the chair and raising his hands in mock surrender. He prowled across the room towards where the other men were standing, leaning into their personal space a little more than propriety tolerated.

“In a couple of days you’re going to hear of some pretty weird murders: three dead creatures will turn up somewhere in London. They might be found by the police, a whore or a kid. When that happens you need to get to the bodies before they vanish into some weirdo’s stuffed animal collection, or a circus freakshow, or into the vaults of one of the hospitals. Send me a telegram in Cardiff and I’ll retrieve them before they cause any harm.”

Watson spluttered. “What are you ranting about, man? ‘Creatures?’ ‘Freakshows?’ And in a few days? Can you see the future?”

Holmes laid a hand on his friend’s arm. “Steady, Watson.” He stared at Harkness. There was…something: something that didn’t fit. His brain whirred with possibilities.

“You can see through time.” It wasn’t a question.

Watson’s jaw dropped but Harkness smiled. “Whatever’s left must be the truth, eh, Holmes? You are good.” Harkness stepped even closer. “If this was another place and time…well…” his smile became warmer, “let’s just say we could have had a true meeting of minds.”

Holmes’ eyes twinkled. “But here and now I believe you need a favour, Captain.”

“I suppose I do.”

“And if I should wish for a favour in return at some later date?”

Harkness’ sensuous mouth hardened. He nodded once.

“You are a man unused to asking for help.” Another statement.

“I’m not used to dealing with people I consider equals,” conceded Harkness.

“Of all the arrogance!” murmured Watson.

“Alas, not arrogance, Watson. The good Captain truly has no equals in this time and place. If he did he wouldn’t be here.” Holmes directed his gaze back to Harkness. “I am no one’s servant, Captain. I will assist you in this matter as I believe to do otherwise would be dangerous to London.”

Harkness nodded. “You’re right, Holmes: on both counts actually. We’re in the same trade, you and I, but whereas you have the luxury of using an intellectual scalpel as your tool I usually have to use a metaphorical cosh. Wish I didn’t, but there you go. Anyway,” he glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, “I’m late for another appointment.” He held out his hand: societal formality and peace offering combined.

Holmes took it. “If it’s any consolation, Captain, I believe us both equally capable of using both the scalpel and the cosh.” He stepped into the handshake, whispering softly so Watson couldn’t hear his final words to their departing visitor. “We also both depend on our doctors, Harkness. They are our touchstones and our anchors. Yours will return one day. Make sure you are still as the man he left you; not the man you are in danger of becoming.”

Holmes felt the slightest tremor go through Harkness’ hand as he released the handshake but when the Captain stepped back his face was composed. He turned and nodded to Watson before stepping through the door.

Holmes and Watson watched him walk to the top of the stairs where he suddenly turned and threw a jaunty salute to them both. “Until we meet again, Holmes,” he said, grin firmly back in place. And then he was gone.

“What an extraordinary fellow, Holmes. Damned rude too.”

Holmes smiled. “Indeed, Doctor but he is a stimulating character nonetheless and I have no doubt we shall see him again.” He nodded to the clock. “I have to say though, he’s pushing his luck expecting to find a hansom easily at this time of day. Mycroft will be most displeased if Harkness misses his interview at the Diogenes for a second time.”