The Labyrinth of London

A Sherlock/Labyrinth Crossover

The Previous Occupant

Inspired By

"The Thin White Sleuth…"

By

Pika-la-Cynique

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: While I write "The Blonde Babe", here is a little drabble about Sarah moving in with Jareth.

&%&%&%

"JARETH! WHY IS THERE A HUMAN SKULL IN MY CLOSET!?"

Jareth ran from the kitchen where he was doing an experiment and found Sarah kneeling before her small closet. She was holding a box with a human skull in it. How in the this world or below can she look so good in flannel pajamas?

The box was labeled "Uncle Yorick". It took Jareth a moment to remember why there was a skull in his closet. When he did remember, Jareth grinned. "Alas, poor Uncle Yorick, I knew him well."

"Jareth, I may have been here for three days but I haven't signed the lease yet. I can still leave free and clear," Sarah said.

"That is our old dealer," Jareth said.

"'Our' dealer?" Sarah asked.

"Sherlock and I both lived here once. We became… not quite friends but comrades who both enjoyed solving murder cases and cocaine. One night, Sherlock overdosed. That alone made me want to sober up," Jareth said. He frowned at the next part. "However, Mycroft found out I was there (as he always does). I owe him several… favors in exchange for staying intact. Our dealer, David Yorick, did not receive such mercy. Now, Mycroft would never admit to such, but…" Jareth shrugged, "The skull looks very similar to the head of our missing drug dealer."

"Why, in the name of all that is good and holy, did you keep it?" Sarah asked.

Jareth picked up the skull. "First, I forgot it was here. Second, sometimes Sherlock needed a reminder of why he was not on drugs before John. After John, it became, not easier, but more worthwhile to stay sober."

"But not you. Why have you stayed sober?"

Jareth knelt down next to Sarah. "I had Sherlock, living proof of why I needed to live."

Sarah looked at the skull for a few moments. "It must have been hard, watching your friend almost die."

Jareth shook his head. "I do not have friends, Sarah. Only colleagues." He put the skull back in the box. "I will take care of this. I am sure Mycroft will want another one of his trophies back."

"Okay," Sarah said. Jareth left the room and began planning how best to get the skull to Mycroft.

A few moments later… "JARETH! WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY 'ANOTHER ONE OF HIS TROPHIES'?"

Jareth laughed. He would pay to see Mycroft and Sarah's next interaction.

&%&%&%

A/N: I have seen several Sherlock Headcanons on Tumblr about the skull, several of which relate to Sherlock's old drug dealer. Thus, the fic.