A/N: It's just one of those times when you have a sudden idea and you cannot get rid of it in your head. It's just one of those times when you just CANNOT get rid of the amazing things that can happen at this crossover. It's just one of those times when the things you love most come together.

So please forgive me.

I needed this... Or else I could've exploded.

So, a debriefing. This is a triple crossover between Doctor Who, Sherlock and the Infernal Devices. The rest, you guys can read on about. I just hope you like and please if you find something wrong, please tell me! This is for improvement, and so I can make this ride as amazing and wonderful and entertaining as possible. Thank you. :)

Disclaimer: Not Cassie Clare. Not Mark Gatiss. Not Steven Moffat. Not the original creators of the Doctor. Not Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. :)

Book cover credits: The book cover has been created by me (I know, should have drawn something but cannot be bothered). :) However, photos of Matt Smith as the Doctor, Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock and Gaspard Ulliel as my appointed Will Herondale, were taken from the internet. I have photoshoped them for my own means, but I own the entire final image. Finally, I used certain brushes here that were downloaded off deviantart, not that they'll be too noticeable.

Now, the show starts.

Prologue

The dart hit the board with a satisfying thud!, its arrowhead embedded dead centre of the target. "Oh hey Johnny!" the Doctor cried as he spied his companions' dart game from the blinking, beeping and booming control panel of the TARDIS. They were currently cruising through space as the Doctor thought out where they could head off to now. There were just so many choices. "Bullseye!" the Doctor gave him an approving thumbs up. John grinned and followed this with a victory dance.

Meanwhile, Sherlock scoffed as he rudely turned from the dart game, marched up the platform and collapsed onto a chair. He crumpled like some defeated child who didn't get the first prize in the science fair. Sherly, that's just being a poor sport, the Doctor shook his head, albeit aimlessly as the great detective is not easily swayed by outside opinion. He was his own world and it was running on his terms. And his terms only. The Doctor and John shared sympathetic smiles which Sherlock narrowed his eyes at. John broke off the detective's glaring with a subtle clear of the throat, preceded with a question, "Where to now, Doctor?" John left the dart board as he, too, made his way up the platform. At his question, the Doctor zoomed round his TARDIS controls and started flicking numerous switches.

The question hung in the air for a solid five minutes. Unbearable, it was.

"Oh, I don't know," the Doctor finally admitted after Scheherezading his way through the unanswered question with surreptitious flicks of the buttons of the TARDIS controls. John pursed his lips in thought and understanding (ever so kind a doctor). Sherlock scoffed.

"Why don't you ever take us to the future?" the often aloof man asked. The Doctor sighed inwardly in weariness at the question. Hasn't he explained this a billion times? Sherlock has a great memory, hasn't he? "It can't be that terrifying! Surely crime rates couldn't have decreased. Recent developments in technology prove to be quite beneficial for wrongdoers. Just think Doctor!" Sherlock leaned forward, eyes all wide and sparkly. "Inventions that allow direct, unlimited and rapid access to bank accounts, CCTV footages, personal inventories and top-secret military nuclear warhead codes! The development of crime into something bigger like, oh, I don't know! Biomolecular crime! Yes! Perhaps in the future, murderers are perspicacious criminals which create nanobots which they can summon upon command to readily kill a person! Now, that–"

"Sherly," the Doctor shook his head and John cracked a smile at the edge of his vision. Sherlock scoffed at his nickname. When will he stop scoffing? His face will freeze if he keeps doing that. "I've told you many times already. I trust you, really. But, we can't go to the future because you surely would take something from it!" The Doctor parted himself from the controls and decided to whip Sherly into a good beating. He stood in front of him, like a 'cruel to be kind' parent lecturing a stubborn child. "Knowledge, however great, is always tempting. I met a boy once. His name was Adam Mitchell and he was tempted by knowledge. His head can open up to show his brain now," the Doctor looked down at the barely-paying-any-attention-consulting-nine-year-old. He was to add another important point when there came a bleep! from the TARDIS.

They all turned towards the general direction of the sound. It was in the swivelling screen. "Oooh," the Doctor gravitated towards the screen much like how a child is captivated by a lolly store. He read the incoming data. "Mail!" He grinned at the four letter word. This was his candy. There was another bleep! and a footage of a decrepit church, framed with rain, appeared. Just among the motley rubble, the Doctor could make out a white card.

An invitation.

"What's that?" John asked, eyes squinting. The Doctor danced towards John.

"Our next destination," Sherly peeked around the Doctor to see the church.

You guessed it. He scoffed.