The Labyrinth of London

One Rule

A Sherlock/Labyrinth Crossover

Inspired By

"The Thin White Sleuth…"



The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

Summary: There is one thing Lestrade will not have at his crime scene. During chapter one of "Two Wedding and a Murder?". One shot.

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


Nothing rang in the New Year like a dead body. Lestrade was almost cuddling with his coffee when he arrived at the scene. He spoke softly to Donovan.

"What've we got?" Lestrade said.

Sally flinched. "Shush. Not so loud."

Lestrade mouthed a "sorry".

"Dead banshee." Sally said as she showed Greg the crime scene.

"Isn't that an oxymoron?"

"That's the problem. We can't tell what parts were attacked because this banshee walks around like a half-rotting corpse a la Hel daughter of Loki. We just know that she is dead-dead," Sally said.

"Is that the technical term these days?" Lestrade said, smiling at his own little joke. "I'll call up our annoying little goblin to see if he will help."

Lestrade stepped outside of the yellow police tape and dialed Jareth's phone. Then he dialed it again. And then another time.

"Must have had his battery die or something," Lestrade muttered to himself.

Greg dialed Sarah twice and he had no response. He called Sherlock. "Oye, Sherlock, how are ya?"

A nasally voice answered, "Sleeping."

"Listen I have a case and…"

"I'll come as soon as I'm dress."

"No you won't. Can you even tell me how many elements there are?"

"Um… 42?"

"No. You are not coming. Jareth won't answer his phone. Is he out?"

"No," Sherlock said before blowing his nose. "I'll fetch him."

"Great. Thanks," Lestrade said, "Get better. You sound awful."

"I feel awful. Mrs. Hudson keeps giving me nothing but tea and digestive biscuits."


"They're coming. Apparently Jareth didn't sleep much last night," Sherlock said as he called Lestrade back. "Mrs. Hudson is out of tea. I'll have to nick some from Sarah. They'll be there soon."


Lestrade received yet another phone call from Sherlock. "Uh… listen… they um… Jareth is a bit uh… cranky, this morning."

"He better not have been drinking again," Lestrade said.

"No, no. Not that at all. Just… yeah. Just warning you," Sherlock said.


A few minutes later, Jareth and Sarah arrived at the crime scene. Jareth was being oddly affectionate to Sarah. Not that the goblin did not show that he was an old softie anytime Sarah was around, but this was out of the norm for him. Jareth was playing with her hair, squeezing her shoulders, whispering something to Sarah that made her giggle.

Bloody hell, Sarah doesn't giggle that much! What the hell is going on?

"You have a case for us?" Jareth said, "It better be interesting."

"Aren't they always?" Lestrade said.

"No," Jareth said.

"Jareth, behave," Sarah said as she placed her hand over his abdomen.

"Fine," Jareth growled. He slipped his hand under her jumper, "Only because you asked."

"You have got to be…" Lestrade smacked his forehead, "Took you long enough."

"What?" Sarah said as her cheeks began turning red.

"You two," Lestrade said. He pointed at both of them. "I have only one rule. One rule only when it comes to these things."

"And that is?" Jareth said.

"I will not have flirting companions at my crime scene!" Lestrade said.

Sarah rubbed her cheeks trying to get rid of the blush.

"Now, keep your hands off each other and figure out what happened here," Lestrade said.

Jareth and Sarah nodded and went to work with as much professionalism as they could muster.

"Is that… a clown nose?" Sarah said.

"I guess it was… a killer joke," Jareth said.

Lestrade smacked his forehead again. "Make that two rules: I will not have terrible jokes at the crime scene."


A/N: Did I write this story purely for a Doctor Who reference? I would be lying if I said "no".