Author's Note: Hello, wonderful person! I thought it was time for me to write this up. It actually started off as an Omegle role play that I posted on Tumblr and someone asked for me to make it into a story so I will! :D There will be lots of plot twists on the way so look out for those. P.S: This isn't really supposed to be much of a serious thing but who knows what it might turn into. Have fun!

The TARDIS was playing up again. She'd been doing this a lot recently, depositing The Doctor at random places throughout time and space, though this time the street seemed rather familiar. He stepped from the blue police telephone box, closing the door behind him. "Right," he said, straightening his bow tie. "Where have you taken me this time?" he murmured to himself, looking onto the busy street. The Doctor was somewhat thrown off course when a man with black curly hair, sporting a long black coat bumped into him.

"Sorry," he apologised, looking up from his phone. The Doctor smiled back.

"No problem," he said happily. "Do you think you could help me out?" he asked.

"No, sorry," he replied, waving a hand. "I'm in the middle of something." The doctor frowned before jumping in front of the man, stopping him from leaving.

"I just want to know where I am and preferably what year it is." The man looked up in obvious confusion before looking The Doctor up and down.

"Baker Street, 2013," he replied reluctantly.

"Ah 2013, a wonderful year. You invent that thing…" he said, referring to something obviously yet to happen. The Doctor spun round on his heels, admiring the road. "Yes! Baker Street, the home of the great Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes!" he said with glee. The man sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You're not another news reporter, are you?" he replied, looking even more fed up with The Doctor than before. The Timelord looked down over his clothing. "I wasn't aware I was looking very news-repotery today," he joked. The man squinted, studying The Doctor.

"A fan then?" he asked, his voice unsure.

"Yes, yes. Definitely. Read each of them at least three hundred times!" he grinned. For anyone who didn't know The Doctor this would seem like obvious exaggeration but in his case, it wasn't.

"Each case?…" he asked, confused.

"Each story," The Doctor replied, correcting him before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a tattered, old fashioned book. "The Hounds of the Baskervilles!" he exclaimed, using his hand as a dust beater. "Bigger on the inside," he whispered, hinting to his pockets.

"I'm sorry, did you say The Hounds of the Baskervilles?" he asked, snatching the book from The Doctor and scanning through the pages. A few moments later he closed it and looked up at the Timelord.

"What is this?… Who wrote this?" he asked.

"Arthur Conan Doyle," he smiled. "In um… 1902 I think it was. The man looked horrified.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" he asked.

"Um… no, it would be a rather bad joke if it were," he laughed. "What's funny about good literature?"

"No, I mean… how did someone from 1902 write about an event that only happened a few months ago? It's obviously from at least one hundred years ago judging by the paper and text..." The Doctor frowned.

"A few months ago?"

"This is the case that me and John took some time in November of last year. Nearly exactly the same apart from the period and lack of electrical devices.

"You and John?"

"Yes… me and John."

"John Watson?"

"Yes! What does that matter!" he asked angrily.

"You're Sherlock Holmes?" The Doctor asked, falling backwards a little. Sherlock nodded.

"And who are you?…" The Doctor smiled awkwardly.

"Sorry… wrong universe," he said quickly.

"No," Sherlock replied without a moments hesitation , pulling The Doctor by the collar. "You've managed to confuse me and that is something that not many people can do, believe me." He looked around before letting go. "Come with me and explain how you've managed to get hold of a book about me and John from one hundred years ago."