Sherlock Hooves was your ordinary pony. Well, maybe not. He was a consulting detective who solved police cases for fun. No pay. He had a companion/best friend, John Trotson. He fought in the changeling war, so that made him a war veteran. The two stallions were bachelors. John also had a segment in the paper in Trotdon after every case.
On this particular day, they hadn't heard anything from Lestride, the stallion who sent letters when there was a case, and who helped out. He was a detective inspector, and a police stallion. It was around lunch when Sherlock had a letter land in front of him.
'Sherlock
Its DI Lestride; we've got a case. Come immediately. West side of town, about a mile out.
Lestride'
"John, we've got a case. C'mon." Sherlock told his friend. Sherlock put on his scarf, using his magic, and then ran out of their flat.
"Do you two have another case?" Sherlock and Johns landlady questioned. Her name was Mrs. Hopson.
"Yes. Come on John, we are missing out!" Sherlock yelled. Soon, the dark blonde stallion with a lighter blonde mane came down the stairs.
"Calm yourself. I'm coming." John told his dark blue friend with a black, curly mane. They both ran out of the flat, running down the street. Soon they turned west, so they were going in the right direction.
Once the two finally arrived, John was out of breath. Sherlock was unphased.
"What is this? Is this a prank?" Sherlock asked.
"Hey freak. It's not a prank. It's real. Go inside. There's blood, but no body. It's quite spectacular once you go inside. Bye freak." Hoofdon said to Sherlock.
Sherlock walked under the crime scene tape and walked inside this blue box. It's bigger on the inside.
"Definitely blood; he must've fled. There are bloody hoof-prints. He's a stallion, about seven inches taller than John. This ship is alien, but he's disguised himself like one of us. Lestride, check everywhere for an injured stallion. Bring them to 221B Baker Street. It should be a smaller injury. Make sure they aren't sick, but that they have a cut or scrape or anythings along those lines. Now!" Sherlock deduced, then demanded.
"Are we leaving already?" John asked.
"Yes." Sherlock opened the door to a police carriage. John climbed in and Sherlock got in after. "Quite simple, really. We can't get anywhere until we find that stallion." Sherlock told his friend as they rode away towards Baker Street. Then Sherlock remembered something. He stuck his head out the window. "Oh, and Lestride, make sure its within one week old!" Sherlock shouted, then took his seat once more.
"Why one week?" John asked, even though he knew the answer.
"If its within a few days old that'll narrow our search." Sherlock explained. Eventually, the short ride to Baker Street was over. Sherlock opened the door, giving a quick wave to Mrs. Hopson.
"You've got a client up there." Mrs. Hopson told the young stallion, who was climbing the stairs.
"Thank you Mrs. Hopson. I'll get right to it then. John!" He yelled, even though John was right behind him.
"Jeez..Sherlock I'm right here!!" John yelled back. The two entered the room and saw a light brown stallion with a dark brown spiky mane sitting in a chair. His cutie-mark was an hour glass. Sherlock's was three magnifying glasses, and John's was a Red Cross.
"Hello! I need your help. You're smart.." The stallion smiled, standing and holding one bloody hoof off the ground.
"It's him John!" Sherlock smiled. "Start a letter to Lestride. Now, what do you need me for? And who are you?" Sherlock asked him.
"I'm the Doctor. And I need your help fixing my crashed ship. John can come too." The Doctor said. "My companions, Vinyl Scratch and Octavia, aren't in town. They've gone to perform at a few weddings in Canterlot, Ponyville, and quite a few other places." He explained.
"I'm done Sherlock. Ready to send it?" John asked. Sherlock nodded and used his magic to send the letter off to Lestride.
"Alright John. We are going back to the crash sight. Come on." Sherlock then left the two.
"SHERLOCK!" John yelled.
"WHAT!?" Sherlock soon replied.
"HE'S INJURED!" John yelled. Sherlock stuck his head through the door.
"Yes, he is, isn't he?" Sherlock asked.
"Oh this? It's nothing. Watch." The Doctor's hoof glowed, and soon was better than ever.
"What kind of magic is that? Not even I can do that..and I'm the smartest unicorn out there." Sherlock said.
"Well, I'm not most ponies. I'm alien."
Sherlock was speechless. His assumption had been correct. He then just left the flat to go back to the crime scene. The Doctor and John swiftly followed. Sherlock hailed a cab and they rode off to the crash site.
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Once they'd arrived, Hoofdon, Anderson, and Hopper remained.
"Oh look, the freaks back.." Hoofdon said, leaning onto a police cart.
"Oh look its the woman whom Anderson is cheating on his wife with. I assume you've been scrubbing his floors again. " Sherlock said. He followed the Doctor into the ship and John gasped.
"The outside...its smaller..out there.." John stuttered.
"Yep." The Doctor said. "Off we go then!" He clicked something and its like the ship fixed itself and started making a terrible noise.
"What the bloody hell is that noise!" Sherlock yelled.
"OI! She doesn't like that." The Doctor yelled.
"She?" John asked.
"The TARDIS of course. Now, who's up for an adventure?" He smiled goofily.
