Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, Sherlock or Supernatural.

A/N: This is my first go at crossovers, so don't be too harsh. Reviews are good, so please review or follow or whatever you like. Help me out here, I'm going to make mistakes, so, point them out to me. That way I can avoid making the mistake again. This i a re-edit of what I previously had. So this might be worse, or better. Last time I didn't have any real energy to write, so it was half laze and boredom than anything. Now I have enough energy to fuel a car for a trip around the world. Twice. XD So let's up this one it better than the last?

PS: I truly am sorry for my unkindly habit or re-editing this so very often. I just keep finding new things to add.

The streets were fairly busy as usual. Cars buzzing about and people chatting away on their phones. No one paid a kind of mind to the girl with long brown hair that curled at the end into soft cues. No one noticed her vibrant brown eyes, taking interest in what happened across the street from where she was standing, flicking to and thro as she took in every detail. This girl watched as people entered the flat across the street, and exited the place, grim looks taken upon their faces than before when they had had such jolly faces to begin with. What had happened to put them in such a downed mood? Only heaven knows. Or perhaps the owner of the esteemed flat, Sherlock Holmes. Whom, in fact, was flat mates to Dr. John Watson. So essentially, the flat had three owners, including the woman, Mrs. Hudson, whom owned the house the flat was in. Sherlock and Watson only occupying the flat upstairs, also known as flat mates.

Sherlock was, as of usual, in search of a case to bide his otherwise wasted time if he did not have a case. Though all the clients he had previously seen up to this point have had either cases too simple and dull for Sherlock to take interest in, or they were something that wasn't really a case at all. So, most clients, which was all client on this particular day, he sent out with a few 'good' words. Not particularly brightening mood words mind you. He began to bug Watson for the cigarettes again, though, as for the thirty times before, Watson refused to give up the location of the hidden cigarettes and patches. Sherlock scowled and called for the next client to come up, a young man.

As the young man was talking about what he hoped Sherlock would take as a case and solve, Sherlock was elsewhere in the world. He was staring out the window and across the street and at a girl whom wore a long blue, fleece coat, extending to just about midway between the knees and ankles, a white blouse with ruffles running down the front, black skinny jeans, a brown hat and white and blue shoes. She was watching the flat, as to what Sherlock could tell by the fact she was looking up at him through the window and smiling. His phone beeped, informing him he had a ext message. He whipped out his phone and read, "Join me?" He looked up from the text and back out the window, the girl hadn't move. His phone beeped again. "Come down." Sherlock shut his phone and walked past Watson toward the door. The young boy turned around, wondering why the famous Sherlock Holmes was ignoring him and instead walking down the stairs and out the door. Watson stood up from where he sat on the couch across form the fireplace. He walked to the window when he heard the door shut downstairs and peered out to see where Sherlock was off to.

Sherlock crossed the street and approached the girl. Her coat was in fact a deep blue with black buttons, new by the looks of it. Her shoes were indeed blue and white. Nike brand. Light blue laces and shiny white. Her hat was brown and clearly not worn much at all. She had little to no make up on, her hands were in her pockets, so whether she had on any rings or such, Sherlock couldn't tell. She stood tall, not slouching, breathing evenly. Her blouse was white silk, not stained. She wore no jewelry, not even ear rings though she did have earring piercings. To most people, she would appear a normal person. others would think she was stalking Sherlock. Which in fact she wasn't if you were wondering. She looked over at Holmes and smiled. "Nice to see you got my messages Holmes. I take it you're curious as to why I called you out here and I did not go in myself yeah?" She said, looking at Holmes.

Sherlock's hair was a mess as usual, having not thought he'd be leaving the flat in search of a potential client, for instead having the potential clients coming into his flat instead of him leaving it. He had on his black over coat, though the usual scarf was still inside the flat. He had on a blue shirt and black pants, his shoes as well black. Though to find anything out about Sherlock was in no need for the girl, for she already knew who He was and what he did. He is a consulting detective, the only in the world, and to his opinion, the best detective there ever was and will be in the world. He's arrogant and honest to the sharp point of a sword. He can learn your life story just by analyzing what you wore, they way you spoke, your tan and such things. He was smart, and the girl knew that. And so was she, but onto that later yeah?

Sherlock nodded, the girl nodding in response. She turned and began to walk in the flow of the crowd, away from the flat and Watson, whom was now hurrying out the door to catch up with Sherlock before he found himself some trouble, which Sherlock was quite known for getting himself into. The girl still had her hands in her pockets, though now that Sherlock was slightly behind her, he could see into her pockets. She wore no jewelry on the fingers or wrists, no gloves. Her hands were perfectly clean, manicured nails and all. All her clothes were new except for the hat, which was borrowed by the fact it had a male name written on the outside brim. The girl didn't look over her shoulder, but spoke to Sherlock anyways. She was clearly confident he would follow her, wanting to hear what she had to say to him. And she was correct on that one. "I have a potential case for you Sherlock. One I know you will take." She said, continuing to walk along with the crowd, Sherlock no walking beside her.

A man bumped into Sherlock's shoulder, causing hm to bump into the girl, whom was slightly shorter than Sherlock by and inch or two. She paid no mind to the fact he had just bumped into her, instead she kept on walking. Waiting for Sherlock to reply. Which he did, when he was able to void bumping into another passersby. "How do you know I'll take the case?" He asked her, causing her to smile. "Because I know." Was all she said before they turned the corner, escaping the mass of people. They had entered an alley, no person in sight, a few trash bins laying around, bottles littering the ground and the normal lack of light you'd expect to be in and alley was all that was there. The girl turned to face Sherlock, as they came to a stop midway down the alley. She looked up at him, the smile gone form her lips. "Four days ago a man was found dead in the Thames. The body was discovered by a group of reckless teens. The police pulled the body out of the water, checking for ID and other identification, only to find such things were missing. Including his phone, shoes and socks, and rings. Police searched the crime scene for evidence, finding none, which was all the more suspected from them. Autopsy stated that the cause of death was water, drowned. The autopsy also stated that the man had suffered from a stroke just before drowning. Police wrote it off as an accident. Said the man had been walking home, had a stroke, fell in the water. Identification items lost in the water. They completely dismissed the missing shoes, socks and rings. And then they ended the investigation. They won't investigate it anymore. So I came to you." She finished talking and looked Sherlock in the eyes.

A long moment of silence followed, all except for the sound of cars zooming by and people chatting about on their phones up and out of the alley way. But that was distant, so it didn't count. After what seemed like a millennium, Sherlock finally spoke. "You said I'd take the case. Why would I take this case?" He asked her. The girl rolled her eyes. "Right. Forgot the best part." She reached into her pocket. "The reason I'm bringing this case to you is not because of what wasn't found on the body, but instead what was." She pulled her hand out of her pocket, pulling out a clear plastic bag with a brown, water-logged notepad inside. "When I looked at the body I found this. I told the police, but they dismissed it, said it was nothing. That the case was closed. But they never looked inside. They didn't see what was written inside." She handed the bag over to Sherlock. "I told someone about that notebook before Holmes. And the next day that same person was found dead." She held up her hands, palms up. "The police didn't even investigate. They just packaged the body up and stored it away." She reached back into her pocket. "But before that, I looked at the body." She pulled out a piece of crumbled paper. "Had to break into the police station to get this, but it was worth it." She uncrumbled the paper and handed it to Sherlock. "Both men supposedly died on 'accident.' Both drowned." She pointed to the paper. "And both men had this in their hands." The paper contained a small insignia of twisting shapes and lines. "At first I didn't see it. The first one was faded, I almost didn't find this at all." She turned the paper over. "Then I saw this." She stepped back and looked up at Holmes. Sherlock looked at the paper for a few seconds before looking up at the girl. "That's how I knew you'd take the case." She had her hands back in her pockets. "My names Hanna by the way. And here." She pulled Sherlock's phone out of her pocket. "My numbers in your contacts list." She smiled as Sherlock took his phone back. "It was nice meeting you Sherlock. Hope to see you again." She looked down at the ground then back up. "Anyways. See you around." She waved and turned around. "Call me!" She shouted as she rounded the corner, Sherlock losing sight of her.

He looked after the spot she had last been. He recognized the name. But from where? Why did that name seem so familiar? He went through everything he knew. Everything that might remotely resemble the girl called Hanna. Then it hit him. "Oh." He ran down the alley, only seconds had passed since Hanna had rounded the corner. But when Sherlock came around the corner, she was gone. Lost in the mass of people. Sherlock looked for her for a while before giving up. He wasn't going to find her now. He looked at the paper again. The insignia didn't resemble anything he knew, but what was on the other side was what interested him the most. Hanna was right. He was taking the case. And it was all because of what was on the card.


A/N: Okay. So this is definitely better than before. More detail more words. Yep. I like this one better. But don't fret, if you like the one before it's still in my docs. Review for me? I'd like to see how I'm doing. I want to see what you think is good. I want to know if you think I should continue or not.