The Doctor and the Detective [WHOLOCK]

Chapter Eight

A/N: As promised, a longer chapter! Whoo-hoo! And, of course, a good, old cliffhanger!

"Please don't make me go, Mum. I'll do extra jobs around the house, and I'll get a Saturday job, or even two! I'll get good grades at Budehaven, and then I'll go to university and train to be a doctor or a lawyer or something like that. And then I'll get a good job and earn lots of money. Just please don't make me go! I don't want to leave everyone behind. Please!"

"Wow," Sherlock sniggered, staring at a flabbergasted Moran shouting at his mother from behind an evergreen bush. "I never knew he could care so much."

"People are full of surprises," the Doctor grinned, his eyes focussed on their 'target'.

"So, how are we going to do this?" Sherlock asking, looking hopeful.

"Well," The Doctor said with a charming, velvety tone in his voice. He placed each of his hands either side of his burgundy bow tie and fixed it. "Just follow my lead."

Both men jumped up in unison and walked over to the where the family was having their argument. They were just about to reach them when Moran stomped off in the other direction, leaving his parents standing there, frozen.

"Hello!" The Doctor said holding out his hand ready to shake hands with Moran's parents. After they had carried out the traditional routine, he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out an identity card in a dark blue case. He opened it and held it up to them and said: "My name is Mr. Smith, the headmaster at Baskerville Boarding School and this here is my colleague, Mr. Holmes, the assistant headmaster."

Sherlock watched as 'Mr. Smith' put the identity card back into his inside pocket and just managed to catch a glimpse of it before it disappeared. Sherlock could have sworn that it was blank.

"You don't look like upper class headmasters," Mr Moran asked curiously.

Both men looked down at their attire. The Doctor was in a tweed jacket, brown trousers rolled up slightly at the bottom, brogues, braces and of course a bow tie. Although he believed his outfit to be smart, he recalled it being 'borrowed' from the changing rooms at a small hospital, so it was very unlikely that the clothes had come from an expensive brand shop. Sherlock was in his usual tight suit with his trench coat and scarf as an added decoration. However, he had failed to remember that he was still covered in fake blood from his fall. They looked at each other, wondering what to do next. The Doctor gave Sherlock a small nod and ignored Mr Moran's comment.

"I'm afraid, Mr. and Mrs. Moran, that we come bearing bad news," The Doctor continued. "I am sure that you are both well aware that the school year starts tomorrow and that your son is enrolled to join us as a member of Year Eleven. However, yesterday the school was made aware of its current financial situation, only to realise that it is in millions of pounds of debt."

Sherlock decided to join in. "Not all of the student's fees have been received and so the school has found itself in an impossible situation. There's no option for government bailout and so unfortunately there is no way that we can afford to accommodate our usual take in. Therefore, we have had to cut down on the amount of students to be taken in this year, and I'm sorry to tell you both that Mr. Sebastian Moran no longer has a place at Baskerville Boarding School."

The Doctor shot Sherlock a look, as if to say 'nice work', before continuing himself.

"We have spoken to the headmistress of Budehaven Secondary School and Sebastian has secured a place in Year Eleven there. The enrolment fee that you sent off to us will be returned back into your bank account by the end of next week along with a generous compensation payment."