Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century and Detective Conan (Case Closed), belong to their respective creators and one should never assume that I am writing this fanfic for anything other than enjoyment.

< >: Thoughts

Chapter 2

I Don’t Believe You!

“You... you can’t be Sherlock Holmes!” Conan Edogawa stuttered, as he continued to stare up at the person whom he had admired since his childhood, (relatively speaking).

The famous detective continued to smile as he looked down at the wide-eyed youth. “Oh? And tell me why I couldn’t be anyone other than who I am?”

“Because Sherlock Holmes is make-believe! See?” Conan held up the book in his hands.

Sherlock nodded as he read out loud the title. “The Hound of the Baskervilles, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I remember that case.” He then turned to Watson. “I think it would be safe to say that we are no longer in New London of the 22nd Century, or even our own world. It appears that we have somehow been transported to an alternate Earth, a place in which we, do not exist except as characters of fiction. Apparently, the time period is around the late 20th century, perhaps even during the first few years of the 21st. I believe we are in Japan. Extraordinary.”

“My word, Holmes! How did you deduce all of that from just reading the title of a book?” The compu-droid asked.

“Eyes and brains, my dear Watson. Take a good look at our surroundings. You will note that the architecture is not of the time period we are from, but from the previous centuries. There are signs in Kanji and this boy is obviously of Japanese decent. I am fluent in the language. He claims that I am just a character in a book, which he holds in his hands. We have cars rather than hovercraft and you will note that our young friend here was riding a skateboard, rather than the hoverboards that the Irregulars favor, though I am a bit curious that he is using a solar-powered board with an internal motor.”

“How did you know it was solar-powered?” Conan asked.

Holmes pointed with his cane. “These light-absorbing panels. And since you were riding it at night, I can also deduce that it must have some sort of backup battery. You were traveling at considerable speed, when you bumped into Watson; far faster than your legs could propel you, so that means that this board has an internal motor.” He turned back to Watson. “As for the rest of my deductions, Watson, this book details a previous case during my first life, and since this boy claims that I am only a fictional character, then I must conclude that this is NOT our world, but rather an alternate one, where we do not exist.”

“An alternate world?”

“It is the only logical theory. I surmise that the tryserium explosion must have somehow transported us to this reality. I remember Tennyson reading an article on nuclear physics about the possibilities of alternate universes, each with their own parallel Earth. Each Earth occupying the same space, but vibrating at a different rate. The tryserium must have accidentally matched frequencies with this world and pulled us through.”

“Astounding!” Watson remarked.

“You got to be kidding!” Conan said with disbelief. “Alternate worlds? The Twenty-Second Century? That’s science-fiction!”

Sherlock chuckled a bit. “To you, it may be science-fiction, but to us, it is science FACT. Watson, could you please take off your coat?”

The compu-droid did so, revealing his metallic body and further shocking Conan. He then put it back on as Holmes explained.

“My associate is a highly advanced, police compu-droid, and he is far more sophisticated than any robot of this particular time period. I also possess certain devices that can further prove my claim that we are from an alternate future, but that will be for a later time. As of now, our most important issue is to decide what to do at this moment.”

“I would think that we should find a way to get back home.” Watson said simply.

“Indeed. And I believe that our young friend may be of assistance to us.” The detective gestured to Conan. “After all, if he has access to a relatively advanced skateboard, then surely he must know of a very capable scientist. Science is what brought us here and science may be what we need to return back to our proper place in the space-time continuum.”

Conan gulped a bit as Holmes knelt down and his face became level with his, making him feel even smaller than he already was. The detective continued to smile as he gazed into Conan’s eyes and could detect a very bright and sharp intelligence.

“What is your name, lad?”

“Uh... Conan... Conan Edogawa.”

At that moment, the diminutive sleuth now knew what Richard felt whenever he was facing his favorite pop idol.



Conan STILL couldn’t believe that he was actually walking with Sherlock Holmes. He wondered if he was dreaming and hoped that if he was, he wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. Holmes emitted a kind of presence that was undeniable. He was exactly as Conan had imagined him to be every time he read those books. As he led the Holmes and Watson to Dr. Agasa’s lab, he couldn’t stop asking the detective questions.

“I thought that you and Moriarty died at the Richen Bach Falls. I mean, that’s what the last book said. I mean, if you really are Sherlock Holmes then...”

“I assure you that I am Sherlock Holmes, and my supposed demise in the Swiss Alps had been greatly exaggerated.” Holmes stated. “To answer your question, yes Moriarty and I did go over the Richen Bach Falls, but I did NOT hit the bottom, thanks to a mighty pine that was but a sapling back then...”



Holmes and Moriarty were falling down towards the bottom of the gorge, but Holmes managed to grab hold of a small pine tree that overlooked an outcropping of rock. He also manages to grab hold of Moriarty with his other hand and his arch-enemy found himself one handgrip away from death.

“Hold... on!” Sherlock gasped as he tried to pull himself and Moriarty to safety, but his strength was failing. Then Moriarty let off a horrified scream as he lost his grip and continued to fall. His body disappears in the falls below. (1) Sherlock could only watch helplessly as his archenemy plunged to what appeared to be his doom.


End of Flashback...

“That tree saved my life.” Holmes finished and looked upon the wide-eyed expression on Conan’s face.

“But how did you end up in the 22nd Century?” The one who was Jimmy Kuno asked.

“Ah, that story can be attributed to the reappearance of my old foe Moriarty, and a descendant of an old acquaintance of mine... from Scotland Yard.”


“Oh my! How did you guess, young Conan?” Watson asked.

Now it was Conan’s turn to play the part of the detective as he replied. “To paraphrase Sherlock, I didn’t guess... I deduced. I’ve read every one of Doyle’s books and the character of Lastrade is frequently mentioned, since he and Holmes didn’t get along very well at times. I noticed that Sherlock was a little uneasy mentioning this other person in Scotland Yard, and according to the books, only Lastrade ever made him that irritated at times, though they both respected each other.”

Holmes could only chuckle at Conan’s insight and remarked, “There we have it, Watson. A prime example of using one’s eyes and brains. Very good, Conan my boy. I may just have found a worthy rival in you.”

Conan couldn’t help but feel satisfied as he was being recognized for his detective skills. To hear this praise from his idol made him feel even more pride.

When they arrived at Dr. Agasa’s laboratory, Conan walked up to the door and knocked on it. He then waited for it to open while speaking to his idol and his associate. “I’ve got to warn you that Dr. Agasa’s a bit eccentric and it’s going to take some time to convince him that you’re... well... no offense, but I still can’t... believe that you’re... I mean... I WANT to, but...”

“It is all right, Conan. I understand.” Sherlock assured as the door opened and the quirky, but brilliant scientist smiled as he greeted Conan.

“Ah, Jimmy! What brings you back here? Did the skateboard work all right? And...?”

Conan was wildly waving his hands and motioning toward Sherlock and Watson. “DR. AGASA! Shhhhhhh!”

At that moment, Dr. Agasa noticed the two and remembered himself. Laughing nervously, he tried to save the situation. He scratched the back of his head and said, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry Conan, I thought you were someone else and...”

Sherlock simply put out his hand. Dr. Agasa grasped it and shook it while Holmes responded, “Tut, tut, no need to apologize my dear fellow. I can understand that you’ve been preoccupied, especially after several hours of writing notes. I hope that we did not disturb you too much during your meal of chow mein and broccoli? And how is your current chemical experiment coming along? I trust that your feet are holding up?”

These statements caught Agasa by total surprise. He pulled back his hand as he asked, “But... how did you know all of that?”

“Simple observation and deduction, Dr. Agasa. I used my eyes and my brains.” Sherlock gestured first at the left sleeve of the scientist's lab coat. “This sleeve is smooth on the underside, as if ironed, yet your other sleeve is more wrinkled. That indicates that your arm has been moving about continuously across a flat surface, possibly a desk or table. I also noticed that you have some ink staining the cuff of that sleeve, which means that is the hand that you write with. There’s a chow mein noodle on your left shoe, and there’s a piece of broccoli stuck on the underside of your mustache.” The scientist quickly wiped away the food particle as Holmes then gestured toward Agasa’s feet. “The chemicals have caused the soles of your shoes to become slightly discolored and started to eat away at the leather, which I imagine is causing much discomfort to your feet. I also heard the sound of your footsteps when you came to the door, which were plodding a bit and slow of pace. Therefore, I deduced that you were either tired or in pain. After seeing your shoes, I can understand why.”

Conan let off a low whistle of awe. If this person wasn’t Sherlock Holmes, then he was a DAMNED good impersonator. Richard Moore was nothing but a two-bit gumshoe next to him.

As for Sherlock, he was used to such reactions after displaying his deductive skills, but he was a bit intrigued at Conan’s reaction at being addressed as ‘Jimmy’ and decided that there was more than meets the eye with the youth. He had already displayed a kind of intelligence that went beyond his seemingly young appearance. He filed that little detail away for later as he and Watson were invited into the laboratory.



As expected, Dr. Agasa did not believe that Conan’s new friend was actually Sherlock Holmes and that he and Watson were from the 22nd Century, let alone from another reality all together. However, after Watson had shown himself without his trench coat, it wasn’t long before the scientist was poking about the compu-droid’s circuitry, much to the dismay of Sherlock’s associate.

“See here, my good man! I allowed you to have a gander at my inner workings to prove that we are from the year 2105, but I take great offense at your constant prodding at my circuitry and mechanisms!” With those words, Watson immediately shut the front access panel in his chest, nearly cutting off the tips of Agasa’s fingers as he pulled his hand away.

“Oh please! Just a few more minutes!” The scientist pleaded. “I’ve never seen such intricate engineering! Are you powered by a thermoelectric battery of some sort?”

“I am most certainly not driven by such primitive means! I happen to rely on a Mark VII neo-proton core and...”

“THAT will be quite enough, Watson.” Sherlock interjected before the argument escalated. He then addressed Dr. Agasa in a more serious tone. “Now then Dr. Agasa, with all the proof that we have presented, do you now accept the fact that we are telling the truth?”

“Well, I must admit that I did have my doubts, but I cannot deny that you are in possession of some extraordinary technology, which is far beyond anything I’ve ever seen. Now that business about you being from an alternate world is harder to swallow, but you SEEM like the Sherlock Holmes that I’ve read in books. But in any case, why did you come to me?”

“I would think that you would have ascertained the reason behind our visit, but I will elucidate.” Holmes said. “We need to return to our own time and place, but we have no technical means to do so, nor do we know of anyone with any considerable scientific knowledge in this time period. When we first met young Conan here, I noted the sophistication of his skateboard and deduced that he knew of someone with impressive engineering ability.”

“Ah, thank you, but I’m afraid that I cannot help you. Inter-dimensional time travel is beyond my expertise, but I MAY know of some colleagues of mine, who might be able to assist you. However, it will be difficult to reach them as most of them are in high-security positions and it will be harder to convince them of your story. Perhaps if I were to show them Watson...”

“That would be most difficult and dangerous.” Sherlock interjected. “We have taken quite a risk in showing you 22nd Century technology. Think of the kind of repercussions of showing others. An unscrupulous individual would not hesitate to use such technology to further his own selfish ambitions and endanger others in the process.”

Agasa had to agree with Holmes. People such as the Black Organization that had changed Jimmy Kudo into Conan Edogawa would certainly use such technology to further their evil crimes. Still, he couldn’t let such advanced science just slip away without studying it, if only to learn the principles behind it. He has also noticed how Jimmy acted around Sherlock and could understand how he admired the detective.

“It appears that we’re stuck, Holmes.” Watson admitted as he got up from Agasa’s worktable, then put on his elasto-mask.

Standing nearby, Conan looked on in fascination at how realistic the mask made the robot’s face appear as the original John Watson’s. A large part of him wanted to desperately believe that this stranger was actually THE Sherlock Holmes. He could just imagine what he could learn from the great detective. Maybe he could even help him in finding the ones who had turned him into a kid.

At the moment, Sherlock paced the room, as he considered all of his options, and came to only viable course of action. He turned back to Watson.

“What are we going to do, Holmes?”

“It seems that we have no choice, but to acclimate ourselves to this new time period and society. At least for the time being, until we can find some way to return home. First on the agenda, is to find a place to stay and set up a base of operations.” He then turned to Conan. “Would you happen to know of any domiciles that are currently vacant and open for rent?”

 “Uh, yeah I do, but if you really are telling the truth, I can’t see how you could pay for anything or...”

“Tut, tut, young Conan. I assure you that Watson and I are quite capable of fending for ourselves and you needn’t worry about us. Now then, where may we find suitable living quarters?”


Yet later again...

In a distant urban region of Tokyo, Sherlock and Watson looked about the modest apartment that they had just rented and noted its plain, empty appearance.

“Not exactly 221B Baker Street, but it will suffice.” Sherlock remarked.

“Yes, but I must say that I am somewhat concerned about our present state of finances and such.” Watson admitted. “Young Conan did raise a valid point and we have no access to our assets in the 22nd Century. According to what I’ve already gathered from the local Internet systems, (a primitive network I must say), apparently, this world still utilizes physical currency and monetary units, unlike the system of credits that we are used to. Furthermore, the landlord of this tenant building, demands that we pay this month’s rent by the end of the week. How are we to accomplish this task, let alone earn enough to live on?”

“Minor details, Watson.” Sherlock shrugged as he held up a newspaper he had gotten from Dr. Agasa. “Every journey to success starts with but a single step.” He then pointed to an article in the want ads, which clearly stated a need for a private investigator, plus details on what the client required.


The next day...

“I can’t believe this!” Richard Moore griped as he came home from what should have been a sure thing.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Rachael asked as she was busy preparing dinner. Sitting nearby, watching the evening news, Conan listened in on their conversation.

“The Tsaska family turned me down, ME! And on top of that, someone else solved the crime already!”

“Tsaska?” Conan asked as his curiosity was piqued. They were among the wealthiest families in Japan and had just recently suffered a death in the family, specifically the previous head of the clan, Morishimo Tsaska. The sudden death had been under mysterious circumstances and even the police had been baffled. Since then, the family had been advertising for a private investigator to find the truth about the crime, while offering a huge reward. Many had applied for the case, but all had been turned down, since they did not meet the high standards of what they wanted in a detective.

The case had been a perplexing one and seemed to be unsolvable. Richard Moore had thought that his brilliant mind could unravel the case, but when he came to offer his services, the current head of the family simply turned his nose up at him and called him nothing but a cheap gumshoe, who couldn’t find a criminal in a prison. Then he shocked him by telling him that the case had already been solved by a REAL detective.

This had gotten Richard’s temper boiling. Didn’t they know about him? He was Richard Moore, private investigator extraordinaire! No case was too tough for him to solve! Even that snot-nosed punk Jimmy Kudo couldn’t hold a candle to him! Wherever he was!”

Richard was still brooding as Conan came up to him and asked, “So who solved the case, Richard?”

The angry investigator snarled a bit as he replied. “It was just some nobody private eye that just got lucky! This nut even called himself Sherlock Holmes! What a load of baloney!”

Conan gasped as he heard the name, then heard the latest news story as the reporter spoke with Inspector McGuire and the current head of the Tsaska family, Hiro. He, Rachael and Richard listened intently.

“So your great-grandfather’s killer has finally been brought to justice!” The reporter declared.

Hiro Tsaska nodded as he watched the police take away his twin brother. “I would have never thought my own brother Akira was the killer. But Sherlock Holmes found him out the moment he came into my office. It was a good thing too, because Akira was about to kill me too! It was amazing!”

“Excuse me, but did you say Sherlock Holmes?” The reporter asked.

“It’s probably just an alias the detective used.” Inspector McGuire said. “He most likely had a reason to keep his real name a secret. After all, we all know that Sherlock Holmes isn’t a real person. No more questions now. The criminal has to be processed and you’ll all get the full details later.”

The reporter nodded as she addressed the camera. “And there you have it, folks. It seems that a mysterious new player has entered the detective world and may just give our local legends Richard Moore and the absent teen sleuth Jimmy Kudo, a run for their money. He certainly made quite an entrance, by solving one of the most perplexing of cases, and netting the biggest fee ever to be awarded to one investigator...”

Richard shut off the television set in disgust and angrily slammed down the remote on the table, causing Conan to be startled.

“That was supposed to be MY case! It’s not fair! I’m the best detective there is and some nobody comes out of the blue and steals my fame and glory! That reward was supposed to have been mine!”

Conan gave Rachael’s father a bit of a doubtful look, and thought to himself. < Once again, I wonder just what kind of fame and glory you had to steal in the first place, Old Timer. But I’m more concerned about this guy who says he’s really Sherlock Holmes. The fact that he solved a case that even had me stumped, says a lot about his detective skills. Well, I guess I’m just going to have to wait and see what happens next.>


Meanwhile, at Holmes’ new apartment and office, the detective and his assistant gazed upon their new furniture and equipment. Though the computer, fax, telephone and other machines were supposed to be state-of-the-art, they were still considered primitive by Watson’s standards. He planned to make many modifications to those devices to suit their needs. He had already made some changes to his own body. In order to pass himself off as a normal human being, he had expanded on the elasto-mask technology that he wore on his face, to develop human looking hands and arms and wore them like gloves. His feet were camouflaged with paint to make them appear as heavy boots. The rest of his body was usually covered by his trench coat, to keep others from seeing that he was mechanical.

“I must say that it was extremely fortuitous that you were able to solve the Tsaska case. The reward money should keep us in the black for at least a month. It was brilliant the way you solved the murder of Morishimo Tsaska.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that Watson. I simply gathered the facts, eliminated what could not be and drew my conclusions. Akira Tsaska’s downfall lay in the fact that he wasn’t purely left-handed as he repeatedly claimed. Both of his arms were equally proportioned, indicating that he was in fact ambidextrous, which was further proved when the surveillance cameras showed him signing that document with his right hand. That made him a valid suspect in Morishimo’s murder as the initial forensic report indicated that the killer was most likely right-handed, according to the angle of the stab wounds and the force needed to penetrate the victim’s heavy coat and suit. Furthermore, with all the other evidence that we had gathered, it was a simple matter to determine that it was Hiro’s twin and not Hiro himself who had snuck into Morishimo’s office and killed him. And he had further planned to murder his own brother and take over his life, when it was discovered that Morishimo had named his brother as the sole heir to the family’s fortune. That was the reason he had all of those notes on his sibling; his habits, his personal likes and dislikes and most importantly, be able to forge his sibling’s handwriting with his right hand. After all, it wouldn‘t do to impersonate his brother without being able to duplicate his signature.”

“As ever, Holmes you never fail to amaze me.”

“And as ever, when you simply eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable it may seem, must be the truth. Now then, Watson, I believe that we shall be very busy with new cases soon, and we should prepare for them.”

“Of course.” Watson walked over to the computer, turned it on with his cybernetic link, and began uploading files.

Sherlock then went over to his new desk and began pondering over certain newspaper clippings, which detailed the exploits of one Richard Moore and the now missing youth detective, Jimmy Kudo. He had heard much about them and decided to look into them a bit more. As he studied the data, he couldn’t help but feel that Conan Edogawa had some connection to these two...

To be continued...

Author’s Notes

Well, this story has gotten off to a pretty good start and I think that I’m on the right track. Next chapter, Richard Moore is going to be pulling out his hair as Sherlock shows him what a real detective is like, and Conan will also get to strut his stuff as he and Sherlock solve a mystery together. However, Conan had best be wary, as Sherlock comes ever closer to discovering his secret.