The Labyrinth of London

Two Weddings and a Murder?

A Sherlock/Labyrinth Crossover

Inspired By

"The Thin White Sleuth…"



Summary: Jareth and Sarah are happily married while John and Mary are on their way to domestic bliss. Sherlock is trying to find his place in these changing dynamics. Of course, what's a wedding without a little murder? J/S. JAM.

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.

Chapter I: Planning


It was the morning of New Year's Day and Sherlock was banging on the door of 221B. "Open up."

The door was finally answered by an irate Jareth. "I just went to sleep ten minutes ago. What do you want Sherlock?"

Sherlock sniffled. "You aren't answering your phone. Lestrade has a case and he said I'm too sick. I thought Sarah said you needed to wear a sheet around the flat."

Jareth ruffled his hair before growling, "Bloody hell." He slammed the door in Sherlock's face.

Sherlock blew his nose. "That wasn't nice."


Sherlock knocked on the door of 221B again a few minutes later. Sarah opened the door this time. She stuck her messy hair up into her red and white striped hat. "What do you need Sherlock?"

"No tea," Sherlock said.

"Alright. Come in. We are going to leave in a second," Sarah said as she motioned for Sherlock to come in.

"Thanks," Sherlock said as he shuffled over to the kitchen for a cuppa, "Jareth is grumpy this morning."

"Hmmm…" was all Sarah said. She had a goofy grin on her face as she looked over at Jareth adjusting his suit jacket in the mirror.

"I know he doesn't like to be woken up, but he generally answers his phone," Sherlock said, "I mean it is odd that he would snipe about a case and… oh bloody hell. I am sick if I missed that. Terribly sorry to intrude. I'll just leave now."

"Jareth and I are leaving. You're fine," Sarah said.

"No it's not," Jareth growled.

"Husband, book a honeymoon and then you can whine about work interrupting us," Sarah said.

Before Sherlock could ask the obvious question, Jareth said, "Oberon was killed by Titania; the Seelie and Unseelie Courts now control the Underground; Sarah and I got married; in a year and a day I will be Goblin King again; and that's what you missed on Glee."

Sarah set off one of the poppers she had saved from the night before. "Happy New Year!"

Sherlock looked down at his tea and then up at Sarah. "I need something a little stronger than this."


Sarah rested her head against Jareth's chest as they took a taxi to the crime scene. Jareth was playing with a lock of Sarah's hair. "Do you want a wedding ring, precious?"

"I have your favor. I don't need anything else," Sarah said, smiling.

"I asked if you wanted it, not that you needed it," Jareth said.

"Only if you get one too," Sarah said.

"Deal," Jareth said.

"You just want to go shopping."

"You know me so well."


The newly married couple came home a few hours later after chasing a mad clown around London to find Sherlock sorting through newspapers in 221C. "Uh… I'll be… um… I'm looking. I promise," Sherlock said.

Sarah blinked a few times. "Looking for what?"

"You are not moving out Sherlock," Jareth said.

"Moving out? Sherlock, you are not moving out just because Jareth and I got married," Sarah said, "221 Baker Street is your home."

Sherlock looked up and ruffled his hair. "It might be awkward and…"

"If the door is locked, do not try to make your way in unless it is a non-Scotland Yard emergency," Jareth said, "If Scotland Yard calls and I do not answer, knock."

"And no deductions on our sex lives, okay?" Sarah said.

Sherlock made a face. "God, I don't want to know. I mean, I'll know, but I have no desire to talk about it."


A few days later, John, Mary, Jareth, Sarah, and Sherlock went out to dinner at a high end restaurant.

"You are just going to have a civil ceremony, then?" John asked before taking a sip of wine.

"And a party afterwards," Sarah said.

"Lots of dancing," Jareth said.

"And I am getting at least one dance with each of you," Sarah said, pointing at the other couple and Sherlock.

"As long as you do not mind your feet getting stomped on," John said.

"Sherlock can dance. I'm sure you can," Sarah said.

"Sherlock can dance?" John said.

"Very well, actually," Jareth said.

"Really?" Mary said.

"Never really comes up in crime work but, um, you know, I live in hope of the right case," Sherlock said.

"We almost had one though," Jareth said.

"So close that time," Sherlock said.

"What happened?" Mary asked.

"There was a killer on the loose at a dance company," Sherlock said, "He was going to attack next at the charity ball given by the company. Very sloppy work. We figured it out after a couple of hours. We almost went undercover at the party."

"Who did it?" Sarah asked.

"A ballerina's father who lost his mind. He was trying to cover up an affair he was having," Jareth said, "He was murdering them by bludgeoning them with a crowbar from his work. He had a tendency to aim for…"

"Thank God the food is here," John said.


"I still don't understand it," Sherlock said as he, Jareth, and Sarah returned to Baker Street in a taxi, "I get why you two had to do it, but honestly, two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday, and then carry on living together. What's big about that?

"That's not the big deal, Sherlock," Sarah said.

"Than what is?" Sherlock said.

"The vows," Jareth said.

"An archaic religious and/or property matter," Sherlock said.

"Not always," Jareth said.

"It is a way for a couple to say to each other, 'I will be there for you no matter what'. That couple's family and friends come out to show their support for that vow. It's an act of love by all involved," Sarah said.

"And you two are having another wedding because most of your friends weren't there for the first one," Sherlock said.

"Yes," Jareth said, "And it is an excuse to dance."

Sherlock thought for a moment. "It still doesn't make sense."

Sarah laughed. "It's okay. It doesn't have to make sense to you completely. The only thing you need to understand, Sherlock, is if you want to support John and Mary."

"Well, yes," Sherlock said.

"Then you will go to that wedding and support them," Sarah said.


Later that night, Sarah traced patterns over Jareth's bare chest as he was falling asleep. "Jareth, what will I do… when you're king again?"

"Rule by my side," Jareth said as he adjusted the pillow behind his head.

"What does that mean though?" Sarah asked.

"Whatever you want it to be," Jareth said, "That is one of the few benefits of ruling: you make your own schedule."

Sarah sat up and leaned on one elbow so she could look Jareth in the eye. "What were Joanna's duties as queen?"

"You're not her. Each ruler makes their own choices based on what they want." Jareth stroked Sarah's face. "What do you want?"

"You," Sarah said without hesitation.

Jareth smirked. "Well that is good to know. What else?"

"Children. Ours, I mean. Not just those who are wished away."


Sarah bit her lip as she thought. "To be useful," she finally said.

"Then you will be," Jareth said. He pulled Sarah down to kiss her. "You will be a wondrous queen, precious."


A few weeks later, John came to 221 Baker Street to talk to Sherlock. Jareth was composing at the piano while Sarah was at work. Sherlock ran an experiment with an eyeball he was holding with tweezers and a blowtorch hooked up to the oven in the kitchen of 221B. John came into the kitchen and saw Sherlock in his dressing gown and safety glasses.

"Busy?" John asked.

The detective sighed. "Just occupying myself. Sometimes it's so hard not to be smoking." The eyeball fell into Sherlock's cup of tea.

"I offered you something to do," Jareth said.

"I am not doing you twos laundry, Jareth. Sarah said you had to do it yourself," Sherlock said.

"Mind if I interrupt?" John said.

Sherlock put aside the tweezers. "Be my guest. Tea?"

"Er, no," John said, "So. The big question… The best man."

"The best man?" Sherlock said.

"What do you think?" John said.

"Billy Kincaid," Sherlock said instantly.

Jareth covered his mouth as he tried not to laugh.

"Sorry, what?" John said.

"Billy Kincaid, the Camden Garrotter. Best man I ever knew. Vast contributions to charity, never disclosed. Personally managed to save three hospitals from closure and ran the best and safest children's homes in north England. Yes, every now and again there'd be some garrottings, but stacking up the lives saved against the garrottings, on balance I'd say..."

"For my wedding!" John interrupted, "For me. I need a best man."

"Oh, right," Sherlock said.

"Maybe not a garrotter," Jareth said.

"Shut up," John and Sherlock said at the same time.

"Gavin?" Sherlock asked.

"Who?" John said.

"Gavin Lestrade? He's a man and good at it," Sherlock said.

Jareth did laugh this time.

"It's Greg. And he's not my best friend," John said.

Jareth inwardly cheered for Sherlock.

"Oh, Mike Stamford, I see. Well, he's nice, um, though I'm not sure how well he'd cope with all..."

John interrupted again. "No, Mike's great, but he's not my best friend. Look, Sherlock, this is the biggest and most important day of my life. No, it is! It is, and I want to be up there with the two people that I love and care about most in the world."

"Yes," Sherlock said. He was waiting for John to explain who those people were.

"Mary Morstan... and... you."

Sherlock completely froze. For several minutes, Sherlock just stared at John.

"Sherlock?" John said.

Sherlock continued staring. Jareth started playing the Jeopardy theme on the piano.

"That's getting a bit scary now," John said, "Did I break him?"

"Probably," Jareth said, "I did tell you, Sherlock. You didn't believe me."

Sherlock blinked rapidly before saying, "So, in fact... You, you mean..."

"Yes," John said.

"I'm your... best ..."

"," John said.

"...friend?" Sherlock said at almost the same time.

"Yeah, of course you are. Of course you're my best friend," John said.

Sherlock absent mindedly picked up the cup with the eyeball and took a sip.

"Well, how was that?" John said.

"Surprisingly okay," Sherlock said as he remembered what was in the mug.

"So you'll have to make a speech, of course," John said.

Sherlock stared off blankly again. Jareth fell to the ground in a fit of laughter.

"You don't get to laugh," John said, "We are going to ask you and Sarah to be a part of the wedding party. You are going to be involved in this whether you want to or not."

Jareth continued laughing.


"Who would have thunk it," Sarah said to Mary, "Sherlock was secretly destined to be a wedding planner."

Over the past few weeks, 221B had become a wedding planning headquarters. Besides being John's best man, Sherlock was unofficially Jareth's. Dante would sign the papers, but would be minimally involved with the wedding beyond designing the clothes. Sherlock had been practicing in secret a violin rendition of "As the World Falls Down" that he would play at the reception along with other duties he has assigned himself. Molly Hooper was Sarah's maid of honor and was in charge of the Hen Night.

"I have the mock-up invitation ready," Sherlock said to Mary and John. They huddled around the screen.

John pointed to his middle name. "Does it have to be on the invitation?"

Mary said, "It's your name. It's traditional."

"It's funny," Sherlock said.

"Be grateful you have a middle name, John," Jareth said, "My side of the invitation was rather bare."

"We could have made it up," Sherlock said.

Jareth said, "I already have one made up name. I don't need another. The first one was disastrous enough, all thanks to Mycroft."

"I am sure he was Just Kidding," Sarah said.


Dante arrived later that day to get a feel for what he would design for Jareth and Sarah's wedding. Sherlock had been put in charge of putting down measurements while Jareth was sitting back and watching his nephew work. Mary sat next to Sarah while John puttered around the kitchen to make a pot of tea. The goblins were hanging about, quite happy to see their king's brother.

"What color do you want, Aunt Sarah?" Dante said as he spread out his sketches. He shooed away a goblin who was getting too handsy with his drawings.

"Brat," Sarah said.

"Genetic," Dante said.

"Peacock. You know a blue leaning towards the green scale just a tad," Sarah said.

"Not a bad choice. A nice nod to Uncle Jareth's narcissism," Dante said.

"I am not narci… damn. A lie," Jareth said.

Molly giggled as she entered the room. Dante put on a charming smile and went over to the new visitor.

"Hello, Dr. Hooper. I am Dante Rossetti." He kissed Molly's hand.

Molly giggled again. "You can just call me Molly."

"Molly is a charming name," Dante said.

"Stop it," Jareth growled.

"Can't I say hello?" Dante said.

"No," Sherlock said firmly.

Dante sighed before looking at Molly cheerfully. "Since I am the best man and you are the maid of honor, may I have the first dance with you at the wedding?"

"Sure," Molly said, "I forgot about that. I am sure Tom wouldn't mind."

"Tom?" Dante said.

"Her fiancé," Jareth said with a smirk.

The goblins let out an "OOOOOOOOOOO" sound.

"Ah," Dante said a bit crestfallen, "But no matter. May I say you are quite lovely, Molly, and that your Tom is a very lucky man for having such an intelligent and clever woman in his life?"

Molly tried not to blush. "Thank you."

Dante smiled again. He pulled out a measuring tape, let it unroll, and then it began to measure Sarah on its own.

"Wow!" Mary said.

"You stole this from Harry Potter, didn't you?" Sarah asked.

"It was a clever idea," Dante said before giving out measurements to Sherlock.

In less than ten minutes, everyone's outfits were picked out, even with goblin interference. Dante gathered up his portfolio. "There. The measurements are all settled. I can make last minute alterations, so you lovely ladies do not have to go on those awful diets. Ugh. I am off to the God-forsaken colonies for Sarah's siblings." A paper fell out of Dante's portfolio. "I hope you realize that I hate that country so much that I would blast apart that damn continent if it were not for Canada."

"You really are too harsh on America. You forget that England is to Europe what America is to the world. We got our jerkishness from dear old Mummy," Sarah said.

"This is gorgeous," Mary said as she held up the drawing Dante had dropped, "I can't believe you drew this. It's like my dream dress."

"Yes. I haven't quite found the right… person. Mary, you have a wedding coming up, don't you?" Dante said with a smile.

"Yes," Mary said.

"If it isn't too much of an imposition, do you mind if I make up a mock-up dress for you to see if you would like it?" Dante said.

"I would be delighted," Mary said.

"Good. If you do like it, consider it a gift from me. I do have a weakness for lovely ladies," Dante said as he smirked again.

"He does realize I broke his uncle's nose, doesn't he?" John said.

"Which is why I am leaving now," Dante said as he did just that.


A/N: *crawls out of the Abyss* I survived finals.

This one is going to have a different set-up from the episode because of how much of the episode is based on Sherlock, John, Mary, and their changing relationships. Also, the way the episode is set up, though gorgeous on film, is hard to translate into prose.