Soli Deo gloria

DISCLAIMER: I do OWN Doctor Who. Here is a sort of . . . AU?

Anyway, I've rendered the Doctor human but he still acts like the Doctor and not like John Smith. This is a London where the Doctor and most of his companions are detectives. Other DW characters will show up and please excuse me when my knowledge of London and England is not accurate because I don't live there. YET. And please excuse my inaccuracies in the crime business. I haven't watched cop shows in a while.

Here we go!

It was a dark night in London. It was February, and the streets were empty. Traveling along the road in a cab, Francine Jones didn't think anything of it. Beside her was her late night shopping; she was expected to be home in a minute.

The cab stopped; she stepped out. She paid the cab driver and he drove away, leaving her on the sidewalk in the light of the street lamps; fog flowed over the tops, casting an ominous feel over the street. Francine Jones thought nothing of things that were ominous, and with her lips set in a tight frown, she set off toward her house.

She was too angry at her ex-husband and the phone call she had received from him that afternoon to pay attention to where she was going. It was this that prompted her daughter Tish to go and shop when she called her, to keep her mind off things. She rounded the corner leading to her house and began to walk up to the door when she noticed something on the street. She stepped closer, for it looked bulky, and like something that could cause a car to crash.

Once close enough, she let out a scream.

"I need a coffee," said Detective Jack Harkness, yawning loudly. He pulled his dark blue jacket on tighter and shivered.

"Well, Donna isn't here to go and fetch you a coffee, so you better just deal with it, Captain Cheesecake," Detective Mickey Smith said warningly as he pulled his own jacket on tighter. "Though, I guess it is a bit chilly out."

"Just a bit chilly?" Jack said incredulously as the two walked from their cars over to the crime scene, which had policemen and coroners all over it. A gurney was out and a body loaded onto it, a sheet covering it. All that stuck out was a bloody hand.

Police cars dotted the street as policemen went and cut off the people from coming in. A reporter's van was there, and cameramen filmed while reporters relayed to breakfast crowd the untimely murder.

"Should have picked up a coffee," Mickey said as they stepped forward.

Jack blew on his hands and said, speaking to one of the officers who wasn't marking the site, "Hey, where's the report?"

"Oh, here," the policeman said, handing a clipboard to Jack.

"Thanks," said Jack, looking at the clipboard. "Well, it was a male."

"How many hours dead?" asked Mickey.

Jack held up a finger to say 'Wait a minute' and said, "Ah, approximately nine hours. He was discovered late last night at around eleven by a Francine Jones. She was the one who dialed the police."

"How come we just came here now?" asked Mickey.

"She only called it in an hour ago," Jack replied. He nodded over to one of the houses from where a couple of policemen were going to and fro . "Scared out of her wits; guess she only got the nerve an hour ago."

"Apparently," Mickey said, and he and Jack turned when they saw a car drive up.

Jack lowered the clipboard and said, "Ah, there you two are. 'Bout time you showed up. Mickey Mouse and I have been freezing our butts off."

"Sorry for being a bit later than you two," Detective Rose Tyler said, raising an eyebrow as she held up a paper tray. "We did bring coffee, though."

"How did you manage to get a cab to let you bring in drinks?" Mickey said as Rose hurried around the markers that cut the cab from going any further over to him. Her blonde hair was out, making her push it out of her face because of the wind as she held up the tray.

"He's very persuasive," Rose told them. She looked back to her companion, who was finishing with his paying of the cab driver. The cab backed up and Detective John Smith—AKA, as everyone called him,the Doctor—walked over to them, breathing into his hands.

"Cold morning," he said, his ruffled brown hair dancing in the breeze. He tightened his long trench coat and said, "What have we got?"

"Didn't you get him a coffee?" Mickey asked Rose.

"Didn't care for one. Love, love, love, love tea, though. They only had it in house and Rose said we had to get moving," the Doctor said.

"Here's the report," Jack said, handing the clipboard over to the Doctor.

Rose appeared next to his arm, waiting for her coffee to cool as she looked on. "The one who called it in is Francine Jones?" Rose said, looking to Jack.

"Yeah, she's getting questioned now," said Jack, waving over to her house.

"Isn't that the—" Rose started.

"Yes, yes, Rose, the name of Martha's mother—goodness, isn't this interesting?" the Doctor said, looking to Rose with a grin. "She'll be over here from her office then, right?"

"That should be her," said Mickey, and the four of them turned to see a car show up, stopping at the markers. Doctor Martha Jones jumped out of the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. Still dressed in her work clothes, she hurried over to the four detectives and said, "There's been a murder that my mother discovered and none of you could bother to ring me?!"

"We thought you knew," Mickey said defensively.

"Yeah, good thing Donna's nosy and asked where you lot were going. Really, she says she wants to get out of that office. I say she should stay," said Martha before she bolted over to her mother's house, nearly running into several policemen.

They all looked at her for a moment before all their eyes fell to the clipboard in the Doctor's hand.

"What's the victim's name?" Rose asked.

"His name was Harvey Decker," the Doctor said, looking at a paper. "Insurance job, lived with mother. No university, no girlfriend, no no one."

"He's a nobody then," Mickey said.

"Put lightly," said Jack grimly.

"Yeah, so why would someone want to kill a nobody?" asked Mickey.

"I don't know," the Doctor said slowly, glancing over to the sheet covered body.

Rose followed his gaze and immediately looked back to the report, saying, "What injuries did he get? What killed him?"

The Doctor's eyes darted about the page and said, "Well, it says here that, unofficially, his skin basically exploded."

"His skin . . . exploded?" Rose asked, confused. "Doctor, nobody's skin can just explode."

"Apparently his did. His blood veins burst, and his blood pressure pushed away the skin on him," the Doctor said. "A way to go."

"The papers are going to have a hell of a time saying that. 'Murdered Man with Exploded Skin.' Interesting title," Jack said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

"That's disgusting. How could his veins just burst?" Mickey asked.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure," the Doctor said slowly, looking back over to the covered body.

"You're the Doctor. You're supposed to be good at this sort of thing," Jack said.

"Doctor's more like a title. The job's Martha's," said the Doctor, and they all followed him the few yards to the body. The Doctor and Rose bent down to the body, Mickey saying, "Should I go and fetch her, then? To examine the body?"

"Nah. She's going to need her usual sterile environment and tools," the Doctor said, and he drew out a techy looking screwdriver and used it to lift up a corner of the sheet.

"What?" Mickey said.

"Examining a body's not something you'd want to do on an early chilly morning, now would you?" Rose said, looking up to him.

He shrugged and said, "Guess not."

The Doctor frowned as he pulled back the sheet to show a completely blood covered hand.

"What would cause someone's skin to explode?" the Doctor said. He looked up and said, "Jack, get Donna to get a list of weapons like that and then check them out."

"I can deal with weapons," said Jack.

"'Kay," the Doctor said quietly. "Mickey, you hang around with Martha. Keep her calm, goodness knows with her mother involved this won't be very pretty. Also, bring back the medical report in case something comes up in the body that's important."

"All right," Mickey nodded.

"What are we going to do, Doctor?" Rose asked, looking to him.

He looked to her with his dark brown eyes, and pocketing his screwdriver, not moving his eyes from her, he said, "We're going to go question Harvey's mother."

"That should be fun," Rose said wryly, watching the Doctor as he pushed a button on his screwdriver and used it to examine the hand of the victim.

"What? Interviewing people is fun!" the Doctor told her, pocketing the screwdriver, evidently having found nothing of interest.

"Yeah, but her son just died. She's going to be upset, so don't you dare act so happy when we get to her house, all right?" Rose said, looking rather stern.

"Right, right, right, 'course," the Doctor said as he stood up.

Rose nodded and took a sip of her coffee as she followed the Doctor, who was going to talk with one of the policemen.

"Mum! Mum!" Martha said, passing the officers passing through the front door to her mother's home, letting cold air into the house. She hurried into the living room, where a policeman sat in one of the armchairs, holding a clipboard. Francine looked up from the sofa, quite pale. "Mum!" Martha said, leaning over the sofa. "I just heard, and I rushed here from work." She gulped and couldn't help but say to herself, "Hope I don't lose my job over this."

"Martha, shush. The officer is asking questions," Francine said, patting a place on the sofa for Martha to sit. Martha quickly sat down while the officer cleared his throat and said, "So you didn't see anyone at the scene at any point, from when you entered your street to when you got into your house?"

"I didn't seen anyone," Francine said quietly. "All there were were street lamps. It was sort of foggy."

"The memory or the night?"

"The—the night. I have a very good memory," Francine said firmly.

"Mum," Martha said in a warning voice.

"What?" Francine said, turning to her daughter.

"You have to speak nicely to a police officer," Martha said quietly.

"I am; no need for you to tell me how I should talk to a police officer. Was I sounding polite to you, Officer Black?" Francine asked, turning to the policeman.

"You were fine, ma'am," the policeman said.

"See, Martha? No need for you to reprimand me!"

"I wasn't trying—"

"You've been acting a bit uppity—"


"—ever since you got that medical examiner job. I swear, you think that now since you're not a regular doctor or nurse or whatever you can just trod upon us below-you folk," Francine said.

"Mum?" Martha said, keeping her voice steady.

"What now?" Francine said.

Martha cleared her throat and pointed to the police officer, saying silently that there was someone watching them fight, making her report about her finding the body not that good.

"Anything else, officer?" Francine said, folding her hands together as she straightened.

Officer Black straightened his papers and said, "I believe I've got everything." He stood up, prompting Francine and Martha to stand up as well. Holding the clipboard in one hand, he offered his other to Francine and shook her hand, saying, "We'll get back to you if we need to ask you any more questions. You know, if we have a lead or something."

"Of course, officer," Francine said, letting her hand slip out of the handshake.

Officer Black nodded and looking to Martha, said, "See you later, Doctor."

"See ya, Black," Martha said, and the officer went to the front door, allowing Mickey to slip in as he closed the door.

Francine cleared her throat irritably when she heard Mickey say, "Hey."

Martha gave him a small smile and said, "Oh, hey, Mickey. Um, Mickey, this is my mum," and she pointed to Francine, who turned to face Mickey. Mickey gave her a wave with his free hand as Martha added, "Mum, this is Mickey Smith. He's one of the detectives in the Doctor, Rose, and Jack's department."

"Pleasure," Francine said tightly.

"Hey," Mickey said cheerfully, too cheerfully for either of the Jones women for that morning. "The Doctor sent me to help you."

"With what? You're nothing to do with the medical field," Martha said. She frowned and said, slightly confused, "You're just a techy geek."

"Wow. Thanks, for that," Mickey said wryly. "He sent me to keep you calm."

"I'm not exactly sure how you're going to do that at the moment," Martha said. She turned to her mum and said, "Look, Mum, I have to go. I'm going to have to examine the body and give a full injury report. I've got to go, but, look." Martha dug into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone. "I'll call Tish, tell her to come get herself over here, and she can hang out with you for the day."

"Martha," Francine said warningly as her daughter pressed the numbers on her phone.

"I'll call Dad, tell him to lay off. Have a cuppa of tea, relax, and try to keep calm," Martha said, putting the mobile to her ear.

"Martha, I don't need you babying me," Francine said firmly.

"Mum, I'm just trying to make sure that you're fine. You just saw a murdered man at eleven o'clock at night," Martha said as she heard the dial. She looked at her mother and said, "I really, really have to go."

She turned and said, "Come on, Mickey. You can join me and do whatever the hell the Doctor wants you to do."

"Okay," Mickey said, following her.

"Martha!" Francine called after her.

"Bye Mum!" Martha called as the door slammed behind her and Mickey.

Francine sighed and rolling her eyes, turned to her kitchen.

The Doctor and Rose and Jack examined the evidence bags, Jack holding them up with tweezers for the three of them to see.

"That—that's nothing but a piece of glass," Rose said at one bag, which indeed had a dark, murky colored piece of glass in it.

"Probably from a beer bottle," the Doctor said, "can you tell what brand it is, Jack?"

"Just because I've been to every pub in London doesn't mean that I know what brand it is, Doctor," Jack said, putting away the bag. "Besides," he added, "it was from the bottom of the bottle. People don't brand beer bottle bottoms."

"Say that five times fast," the Doctor said before he started off, muttering the phrase as fast as he could.

"So it is a beer bottle piece of glass, then, Jack?" Rose asked as he pulled out another piece of evidence.

"You tell me," Jack said. "I mean, most likely."

"I'll check around the pubs around this area, see if they had him as a customer recently, then," Rose said, sipping her coffee.

"Brand beer bottle bottoms, yes. Did it!" the Doctor said before looking to the new piece of evidence. He licked his lips out of habit and said, "A corner of a piece of paper."

"There's a lot more of those," Jack said, revealing a bigger bag. "This one is by itself because of that stain there."

Rose took the bag from Jack and held it close, narrowing her eyes at the dark splat on the corner. "That's not the victim's blood, that's for sure," she said. "Something else. . ."

"We're going to get a DNA run on these. Looking for fingerprints, spit, whatever," Jack said, gathering the bags together.

Rose watched as she said, "So all we've got is a piece of a beer bottle, torn-up papers, and the victim's wallet and ID?"

"Pretty much. Should be fun!" and Jack darted off.

Rose smiled and shook her head as she took another sip of coffee and turned to the Doctor, who was not there. She spotted him back at the body and she walked over to him. "The newspapers are going to have a hell of a time explaining this in their reports," she said once she was near him. He was thoughtfully poking around with his screwdriver again, his eyebrows pulled together.

"The medical report's going to be the one that's the doozy. What lie are they going to cook up for cause of death when they think that having your skin explode is impossible," the Doctor said, examining the hand of the victim he hadn't looked at.

"No lacerations at all, then?" Rose asked, bending over somewhat.

"Not a cut or scratch on him. Just busted blood veins," the Doctor said. "Oh, to think of what happened to him. Who do you think would murder a nobody by blowing up his blood veins?"

"Maybe he knew something he shouldn't have," Rose said. "Maybe he had information that the murderer didn't want to get out."

"That's about the only theory we've got," the Doctor said quietly.

Rose nodded and they both looked up when they heard a bit of squabbling. Mickey followed Martha to her car, his hands in his pockets, obviously arguing with the medical examiner, who was trying to simultaneously talk to both him and someone on her mobile phone.

"Bit early for arguing," the Doctor said.

"Don't I know it," Rose said. She frowned slightly and said, "What do you suppose it's about?"

"Dunno," the Doctor shrugged. "Could be anything, really. They usually get along well."

"Yeah," Rose said, turning to the Doctor, "until now."

They could hear a few words now, Martha saying, "You don't need to babysit me, Mickey. I'm fine!"

"Hey, I'm just following orders!" Mickey called back.

Rose looked back to the Doctor and said, "Shall we head on out, then?"

"Yes, let's," the Doctor said quickly, straightening, and walking side by side, the two of them headed to the taxi, the driver having waited.

There's the first chapter. I hope you liked it, and thanks for reading! :)