The Labyrinth of London

The Empty Crystal

A Sherlock/Labyrinth Crossover

Inspired By

"The Thin White Sleuth…"



Summary: Jareth has dismantled Moriarty's network and comes home to London because of a terrorist threat. How warm of a welcome will he received after being dead for two years? J/S.

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss and Thompson,

Henson and Doyle,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth…" by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan on LiveJournal.



Outside of the courthouse, Anderson stood with Lestrade next to a coffee stand.

"I have a new theory," Anderson said.

"Oh God, Anderson, please," Lestrade said.

"No, listen. You said you would always listen," Anderson said.

Lestrade groaned. "Fine. What is it this time?"

"You see, when Moriarty shot himself, some of Jareth's conspirators dressed Jim as Jareth with a mask and a wig. Jareth jumped off the building using a bungee cord and leaped into a window where Molly Hooper was waiting to assist him. Derren Brown came by and hypnotized Sarah. Then Jareth…"

"Hold up! This is the most ridiculous yet!"

"You said that about the TARDIS!"

"With what I've seen, the TARDIS could be logical."

"No-no-no-no! That one was just a fun theory. This is how he did it! It's obvious!" Anderson said.

"Derren Brown? Let it go. Jareth is dead," Greg said.

"Is he?"

"There was a body. It was definitely him. Molly Hooper laid him out."

"No, she's lying. It was Jim Moriarty's body with a mask on!"

"A mask?"

Anderson nodded with enthusiasm.

"A bungee rope, a mask, Derren Brown. Two years, and the theories keep getting more stupid. How many more have you got for me today?" Greg said.

"Well, you know the paving slabs in that whole area – even the exact ones that he landed on – you know they were all..."

Lestrade interrupted. "Guilt. That's all this is. You pushed us all into thinking that Jareth was a fraud: you and Donovan."

Anderson looked down.

"You did this, and it killed him, and he's staying dead. Do you honestly believe that if you have enough stupid theories, it's going to change what really happened?" Lestrade took his coffee and began to walk away.

"I believe in Jareth," Anderson said.

Greg turned around. "Yeah, well that won't bring him back."

After Anderson grabbed his coffee, the two men watched the reporters as it was announced that James Moriarty created Richard Brook and that Jareth King was cleared of all suspicions.

Greg turned to Anderson and raised his cup. "Well then. To absent friends. Jareth."

"Jareth," Anderson said.

They tapped their cups together.

Lestrade added, "And may God rest his soul."


"Oh, John Hamish Watson, of course I'll marry you," Sarah said, giving a half swoon.

"I think I will go and vomit now," Sherlock said.

"So, does that mean you think Mary will like the ring?" John said as he fiddled with the ring the jeweler had taken out of the case. It had three round diamonds as its center piece.

Sarah laughed. "Yes, John. She'll say yes even if you gave her a plastic ring you won from a claw machine. This ring will make her a very happy woman and in turn, you, a very happy man."

"I don't see why I have to be here," Sherlock grumbled.

"Because you can tell if they're conflict diamonds or not," John said.

"They're not," Sherlock said before throwing himself into a chair, "This is the stupidest shopping trip I have ever been on. Getting a woman a diamond ring is like a dog marking his territory."

"Sherlock!" John said.

Sarah crouched down next to Sherlock. "I'll get you some hot chocolate after this if you behave, alright Sherlock?"

Sherlock huffed in approval.

"What is your fiancée's ring size?" the jeweler asked John.

"I have the same size. I don't remember my exact size, though," Sarah said.

The jeweler brought out her test rings and let Sarah try a few. "You're in luck," the jeweler said, "This ring is the same size. If you buy now or start a payment plan, you can walk out with it today."

"That's fantastic," John said.

"Can I try it on?" Sarah asked.

"Of course, ma'am," the jeweler said.

Sarah slipped on the ring and held it up to the light. "Mary is going to need to exercise to wear this. It's heavy." She smiled. "You, Doctor Watson, are a man of taste."

After sorting out the money at the jeweler's, the three went out to a cafe. As Sarah picked up their order, John said to Sherlock, "She seems to be doing alright."

"She moved past bitterness two months after the Fall," Sherlock said, "She has been on a steady recovery since then."

"Is she happy? I know I haven't been around 221B as often, but she seems cheerful whenever I see her," John said.

Sherlock shrugged. "You know that this is not my area, but she does seem to have moved on."

"I am sure Jareth is at peace with that," John said.

"Oh, please," Sherlock said, "Even if there was an afterlife, Jareth would certainly not be at peace unless he was causing some sort of chaos."


Far away in a cold, dark room in a half-forgotten bunker in Serbia, there was a man naked from the waist up. His arms were chained to opposite walls of the small room, forcing him to stay upright. He was slumped forward as far as he could, exhausted from his beatings. His torturer was shouting at him in Serbian. The boss sat with his feet up on a small table while wrapped against the cold.

"You broke in here for a reason," the torturer said in Serbian as he picked up a metal pipe, "Just tell us why and you can sleep. Remember sleep?"

As the torturer was about to strike the man, the prisoner whispered something quietly.

"What?" the torturer said. He pulled the blond man's head back by his long hair to hear better.

The boss in the corner said, "Well? What did he say?"

The torturer let go of the prisoner's hair and looked down in confusion. "He said that I used to work in the navy, where I had an unhappy love affair. That the electricity isn't working in my bathroom… that my wife is sleeping with our next door neighbor!"

The torturer grabbed the man's hair again and asked a question. The prisoner briefly replied.

"The coffin maker! And… if I go home now, I'll catch them at it! I knew it! I knew there was something going on!" The torturer stormed out of the room.

The prisoner slumped down as the boss began to stand.

"So, my friend. Now it's just you and me," the boss said, "You have no idea the trouble it took to find you."

The boss walked across the room to the prisoner. He pulled on the prisoner's hair before whispering in the man's ear in English, "Now listen to me. There's an underground terrorist network active in London and a massive attack is imminent. Sorry, but the holiday is over. Back to Baker Street, Jareth King."

The goblin grinned.


A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Welcome back to The Labyrinth of London! I have truly missed writing this series.