SuperWhoLock

Doctor Who?

Sherlock collapsed in his arm chair with a muffled 'thwamp'. John was already in the chair across from him, studying the three clients that had just walked into 221B.

One was incredibly tall, with a long mane of chocolate brown hair, the other, sitting next to him was a gruff looking man with his arms folded across his chest in a relaxed manor.

"You're Sherlock Holmes?" The third man asked. His big blue eyes were trained on Sherlock in such a way it made him uncomfortable.

"Yes." He responded, moving his eyes along the three men making his usual deductions. He narrowed his eyes. They were difficult. Traces of salt lined their clothing, there was dirt and ash stuck under their finger tips, maybe farm work but they have scars running along their faces, more than a normal farmer. Their eyes seemed lifeless, as if hope had been gained and lost many times.

"Who are you?" Sherlock inquired. This was a question he didn't usually ask. He could always figure out who his clients were but these three were different.

"Sam, Cas, and I'm Dean." The middle one grumbled sitting up a little.
"What do you do, Dean?"
Dean narrowed his sharp green eyes. "That's not important. A friend of ours is missing."

"Hmm." Sherlock rested his chin on the tips of his closed hands. "A job they don't want to talk about.." He thought.

A loud sound interrupted his thinking, some sort of heavy duty machine. The three of his clients looked anxious and alert.

"Who is missing?"

"The Doctor." Sam, the tall one, said.

John's eyebrows crinkled in a way they always do when he tries to figure something out.

"Doctor who?"