"It's here," Detective Inspector Lestrade breathes into the phone.
"The blue box?" Sherlock Holmes says, "Where?"
"We're sending a car for you," Lestrade says as Sherlock abruptly hangs up.
John Watson looks up from his morning paper and says, "Another one?"
"Not just any case, John," Sherlock says flatly as he swings on his long coat and ties his scarf, "It's the Doctor."
Sherlock rushes out, John trailing behind him as always, not even bothering to close the door to 221B. John quickly shuts the door and jumps into the car. Sherlock sits quietly, stoic, yet blood boiling with excitement. John studies him for a moment and then turns to look out the window.
"You?" Anderson hisses as Sherlock exits the car, he turns to DI Lestrade, "Why do you always have to bring him along?"
"Not now Anderson," Lestrade says, silencing him for once.
Anderson walks away, disgruntled, as Sherlock and John approach Lestrade. "When?" Sherlock asks.
"Twenty minutes ago," Lestrade says, "As far as I know."
"Take me to it," Sherlock says.
They set off down the street, past the streams of yellow crime scene tape, and into an alleyway. A large blue box, the TARDIS stands tall inside it, looking no different than an average police box. "It wasn't here last night," Lestrade says, "According to the footage. That camera up there caught it materializing at about 7AM."
"There's been no activity since," he adds, "Nobody's come in or out of it."
"Am I missing something here?" John asks, "Are we seriously taking the case of the vanishing police box?"
"It's almost as bad as the time you took the case of that bloody glowing rabbit."
Sherlock looks up at John and says, "Are you quite finished?"
John sighs, gives up, and says, "Yeah..."
"What are you thinking?" Lestrade says.
Sherlock walks toward the box, encircling it. "Four possibilities," he says matter-of-factly.
"Four, someone moved it here. But no, there was a puddle at the end of the alley. Whoever wheeled it in would have had to have dragged the wheels of the dolly through the puddle, thus leaving a path here."
"Of course they could have dried the puddle, but that is highly unlikely."
"Three, it's been here all along. Going relatively unnoticed in an alleyway not made for people. It is possible that an object even of this size could evade most people's eyes. Though, it rained last evening and the box isn't wet. So the box has obviously come to be here sometime after midnight."
"We have video footage of the box materializing," Anderson says.
"Not now, Anderson!" Sherlock barks, "Leave!"
"Video footage...video footage," Sherlock breathes, trying to get back into his mind palace, "Two. The video footage was manipulated somehow to draw us here."
"What would draw you to an old police box?" John asks.
"Exactly," Sherlock says, "Few know the importance behind it."
"I can deduce that less than one tenth of the commonwealth would recognize it."
He exhales heavily and says, "One," he pauses, "It's him."
Sherlock rushes to the door and raps on it hard, knowing full well it's him. It's the Doctor. Sherlock steps back, beside John, waiting for the door to open. Nothing happens for several seconds. "What exactly are we waiting for?" John says, as Sherlock shushes him.
Lestrade aims his gun at the door, fearful that it might be a trap. The door cracks open and a tall skinny man in a long brown coat strides out, smiling, eating a banana. "Hello," he says, garbled, waving.
"Oh, what's that for?" the Doctor says, striding over to them, "Point that thing somewhere else, will you?"
Lestrade stands down, putting the gun back into its holster. "Quite the welcoming party," The Doctor says, "What's all this for?"
"Or perhaps is it for something I haven't done," he says "In that case, my deepest apologies. I tend to sometimes meet people in the wrong order."
"Who the hell is that?" John says, "And why was he in the blue box?"
"Oh hello," the Doctor says, "I'm the Doctor. Here to help."
He shakes John's hand, "Doctor John Watson."
"The Doctor John Watson?" the Doctor says, "Blimey."
"And this is Sherlock Holmes," John says gesturing to Sherlock.
"No," the Doctor says, "Really?"
"Oh, I've always wanted to meet you," he adds, "Big fan."
"And how do you know us?" John asks, confused.
"I follow your blog of course. Everyone does," the Doctor says, finishing his banana, "Bloody awful titles though."
"A Study in Pink," The Doctor says, "Blimey."
"I happen to like those titles, thank you very much," John says.
"My favorite is the The Adventure of the Red-Headed League. Brilliant, that was," The Doctor says, "Always love a good story about gingers."
Sherlock and John exchange looks, knowing full well that's not a case that they've solved yet. "Who are you," John says, "What are you?"
"A time traveller," Sherlock says flatly.
"Seriously, Sherlock?" John says, "You can't possibly think that this man's a time traveller."
"He has old ties with Mycroft," Lestrade says, "He's a face-changer. A defender of the galaxy."
"The whole universe, actually," the Doctor says.
"The reports said that the Doctor usually travels with a companion," Sherlock says, "Where is she?"
"Oh," the Doctor says, "I'm on my own for now. Sorry to disappoint."
The Doctor shifts his weight awkwardly and looks to Sherlock and John. "How does it work," Sherlock asks.
"What?" the Doctor says, "Oh the TARDIS?"
"Well, strictly speaking the TARDIS dematerializes, travels through the time vortex, and rematerializes at a new destination across time and or space," the Doctor says, nonchalantly.
"But how is it powered?" Sherlock amends.
"Well," The Doctor says, "The Prime Eye of Harmony of course, the Time sun."
"In short, the Timelords turned the star into a black hole, using amaranths and stasis-haloes. After which they captured its nucleus and brought it back to Gallifrey, where it watches, like an eye, over the universe, existing out of history and time."
"After the energy of the spinning star is converted to Arton energy, the power is ready for use. The superradiant scattering of the black hole allows the Eye of Harmony to provide the energy necessary for time travel. Of course this works in conjunction with the Main Space Time Element, the heart of the TARDIS, using scattered Huon particles to travel through time and space."
"Did you get all that?" he adds.
"Not really," John mutters, everything the Doctor just said flying straight over his head, "Sherlock."
Sherlock stands, eye to eye with the Doctor, finally meeting his match. "I need your help," Sherlock reluctantly admits, "I was told you are the only man out there that can help me."
"The technology is rather...alien," he says, "Like nothing I've seen before."
"Sherlock..." John whispers, "Clearly this man has very deeply rooted psychological issues..."
"Don't we all?" Sherlock says striding over to the Doctor, not bothering to turn to him while he speaks.
"Six months ago...we found something," Sherlock hisses, "Scotland Yard has it deep within the vaults."
"Scotland Yard," the Doctor repeats, "What happened to UNIT"
"UNIT has been condensed," Sherlock says, "Scotland Yard is overseeing them."
John stands by DI Lestrade, looking at the strange Doctor quizzically. He doesn't quite trust him, and wonders why Sherlock does. Then again, half the things Sherlock does don't make sense to him.
Sherlock and the Doctor speak for a few more moments until Sherlock turns around and calls for John. Sherlock and the Doctor pass through the doors of the TARDIS, John trailing behind.
John is almost so preoccupied with trying to catch up to him that he nearly overlooks the TARDIS. "Its..."
"...bigger on the inside," the Doctor says, "Never miss a thing, do you Watson?"
Sherlock strides over to the controls, looking over all the levers and switches, buttons and gizmos. "Sherlock and Doctor Watson in the TARDIS," the Doctor says, adding, "Brilliant!"
He spins around, pulling levers and smashing buttons, as the TARDIS starts to whiz and whine, traveling through the time vortex.
"Allonsy!" the Doctor calls out, overcome with excitement.
"Where exactly are we going?" John asks, holding on for dear life.
"Scotland Yard," Sherlock yells over the noise.
The TARDIS falls with a thud to the ground as the Doctor runs to open the door, not bothering to even to look outside on the monitor first. "Oh, hello!" he says as he is greeted by four soldiers with rather large guns.
"Stand down, soldiers," a low voice calls, "That's the Doctor."
The soldiers quickly unload their weapons and stand at ease. Sherlock and John emerge from the TARDIS, snapping the door shut behind them.
"Colonel Augustus Cunningham, leader of the United Intelligence Taskforce," the man says, saluting the Doctor, "Glad to finally meet you."
"Oh you people with your saluting," the Doctor says, "I really do hate that."
"I'm sorry, sir," Colonel Cunningham says.
"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock says flatly as the Colonel turns to him.
"Captain John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, sir," John says, saluting him.
Sherlock rolls his eyes, he's pulling rank again. The Colonel salutes him in return, disregarding the Doctor's request. After all, John is a fellow military man. Sherlock looks down at him, a rather short man in his fifties, two dogs, needs reading glasses. Didn't get much sleep last night. Has headaches. Divorced. Hiding something. "I knew Sherlock would find you eventually," he says, "Follow me."
Colonel Cunningham leads them deep within Scotland Yard, where surely even Detective Inspector Lestrade isn't permitted to go. "John, let me borrow you're phone,"
Sherlock drafts a message to Lestrade: Following a lead. We'll be in touch. SH
Where are you?: Lestrade replies, but Sherlock hands the phone back to Waston, and he slips it back into his pocket.
The group arrives at a holding cell, number 10, to be exact. The walls are thick, a concrete outer-shell, which covers many other things. It is most certainly bulletproof and more. This cell wasn't designed for normal humans, but aliens.
The Doctor holds his breath, grinning excitedly, wondering what waits for him inside the cell. Sherlock studies him for once. Coat, at least forty years old, yet only shows wear of a few years. Glasses, doesn't really need them. Hair, disheveled. Sherlock thought the Doctor to be more of a mess than a help to him. He sighs and says, "They found it in an alleyway in central London," he pauses, "Though they're not sure it's human."
The Doctor nods and the Colonel begins unlocking the door. The Doctor carelessly strides in, coat billowing behind him. The door opens to a slate grey room, cut in half with a thick glass wall. Behind the glass wall sits a surgical table. "Cyberman," the Doctor hisses, gazing at its half-turned body, "How?"
"So you have seen this before," Colonel Cunningham says.
"Haven't you?" the Doctor says.
Watson and Cunningham shake their heads and Sherlock looks him in the eye, "Haven't the slightest what you're talking about."
"That's a first," John mutters to himself, though still audible to Sherlock
The corner of Sherlock's mouth twitches, almost forming into a smile, but it fades away. "I knew something was wrong," the Doctor says, "When you didn't know the Red-Headed League. That should have happened ages ago."
"Something's happened to time," he adds, "A few years ago, there was a 'ghost' invasion that turned out being Cybermen. All those metal men running around, like her. They took over the entire world."
"The battle of Canary Wharf?" he adds.
"You really don't remember?" the Doctor says, and they shake their heads again.
"The Cybermen are bad, really bad," the Doctor says, "They won't stop until they've turned the entire world like them."
"How?" John asks.
"Cutting out their emotions and using their brain matter to construct a cyber man, part living organism, part robot. Using both of their militant strengths to the fullest," he says, "There must be a cyber converted nearby."
"The only possible explanation of this would be an experiment gone wrong," Sherlock says, "There's no such thing as militant robots that want to convert our entire world. Who are you playing for a fool, Doctor?"
"You overlook the possibility that once, just for once, you may not be the most brilliant person in the room," the Doctor snaps.
"You have also overlooked," the Doctor starts again, regaining his composure, "The possibility that there is no human explanation. It's not human."
Sherlock winces, not sure if the Doctor is right or just a madman. He decides on both. "Come on, Holmes," the Doctor says, "You've studied it. You know it's not completely human."
"I suppose we should explore all possible explanations," Sherlock says, reluctantly, "No matter how ridiculous they are."
Rather than adding the fuel to the fire of their disagreement the Doctor simply nods in agreement. John chuckles to himself as Sherlock has just been out-Sherlocked.
"May I?" the Doctor adds, gesturing to the wall.
Colonel Cunningham nods, pressing buttons on the keypad, opening the glass door. The Doctor brandishes his sonic screwdriver just in case. "This one seems to be living, but it is dormant," Sherlock says, "I've been studying it for a few months now."
The door buzzes and the Doctor pulls the handle and Watson pulls out his gun. "Put the gun down," the Doctor says, "I don't work like that."
Watson lowers his gun, tucking it back in the waistband of his pants for safe keeping. He follows Sherlock and the Doctor into the room.
The Doctor looks down at the half-converted body and flinches. The body is half-mangled, flesh showing on the left leg, arm, stomach, and around the mouth. The body is in chains, strapped to the table. "What happened to you, eh?" the Doctor whispers.
"A woman, obviously," Sherlock says, "Mid-twenties."
"Can you save her?" John asks, looking at her torn body with pity.
"She's too far gone," the Doctor says, "Any idea who she was?"
"A dancer," Sherlock says, "Judging by the muscles on her leg."
"And she fits the description of Jessica Mueller, who went missing a few months ago coming home from work."
"There's no saving her," the Doctor says, "Her emotional inhibitor is functional. She wakes up, she'll try to convert and kill us all."
"Couldn't we get information out of her first?" John asks.
"No," the Doctor says, "She'll kill us all before we get the chance."
John looks up at the Doctor and disconnects the life support. The Doctor nods and whispers, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," as Jessica fades away to nothing, already gone.
"We have to find that cyber-converter," the Doctor says, "Before more people are converted."
"You're too late," Sherlock says, "Three people have already been converted."
"Partially," he adds with disgust.
The Doctor looks to John, who knows what to do. John sets off with Colonel Cunningham to disconnect the other victims. It's the only gift they have left to give them.
The Doctor and Sherlock quickly find the TARDIS and go back to base, 221B Baker Street. "Brilliant," the Doctor says, "Though a bit more filthy than I had imagine it."
"Jessica Mueller," Sherlock says, brandishing the report he's yet to completely read, "Worked at the Princess Louise Pub in Holburn. Last seen on April the 21st exiting the pub, boarding a bus, presumably back to her apartment."
"Not much one for dark ale," the Doctor says, "But very lovely place."
Sherlock shoot him a nasty look and says, "I thought you were supposed to be brilliant," he pauses, "Stop playing around."
"No need to get snappy, Sherlock," the Doctor says, "Where'd they find her?"
"Off Betterton street," Sherlock says, "In an alleyway."
"The other two were found in the same area, one on Macklin street, one on Drury Lane."
"Oh, brilliant, he made good muffins, didn't he?" the Doctor quips, laughing to himself.
Sherlock shoots him a look of daggers, bringing him back once again to seriousness, "There were no fingerprints. No strands of hair. No mistakes, nothing," Sherlock says, "Whoever did this was a professional."
"Urgh!" The Doctor groans hitting himself in the head, grabbing his hair, "How could I have been so stupid!"
Sherlock looks up at him, "It's not just finding the cyber converter that's the problem. It's finding who's converting them."
"The Cybermen?" Sherlock asks, bemused that the Doctor has finally overlooked something.
"It has to be," the Doctor says, "They're metal men, they're very good at not leaving finger prints and evidence about. They're smart, natural born killers."
"If there's a Cyberman running about London I hardly think it would have only tried to convert three people," Sherlock says, "Your logic is completely flawed."
"It's injured, or broken," the Doctor says, "Something must be wrong. There's no other explanation."
"What if it's not the Cybermen?" Sherlock asks, fearing the uprising of another criminal mastermind.
"Not the Cybermen!" the Doctor says, "Oh, Holmes, you are thicker than I thought."
"We have to go to Holburn," the Doctor says, "Either way, that's close to where they were operating."
"Right," Sherlock says, striding back into the TARDIS.
Sherlock reaches the TARDIS controls before the Doctor, and jams the levers, pushes buttons, and sets it into motion. "Sherlock Holmes is flying the TARDIS," the Doctor says, "Oh, no-one is every going to believe this."
"The red one!" he adds, "Push the red button!"
The TARDIS falls to the ground with its usual thud, but the Doctor, hanging on for dear life is stunned. "How do you know how to fly the TARDIS?" he asks.
"I watched you the first two times," Sherlock says confidently, obviously proud of himself.
"Oh yes," the Doctor says, "It must be quite easy for you. Elementary even perhaps."
"Yes, elementary," Sherlock says, brushing off his hand's, "Come along."
The Doctor trails behind him, not used to being the one taking orders. He's bothered by it, irritated even. Sherlock stoically ignores him, forging forward to Betterton Street. Both of them are too stubborn and proud to let things go, however, but they work together for the good of the case.
Sherlock's phone buzzes in his pocket, it's Mycroft: Tell the Doctor I need to speak with him when this case is closed.
Tell him yourself, Mycroft. I'm not your letter-carrier SH: Sherlock retorts, putting his phone away for good, not wanting to be bothered with his brother's requests.
"Here," Sherlock says, "This is where they found her."
"No cameras," he adds, "No witnesses. The perfect murder."
"The converter can't be far," the Doctor says, striding up the road towards the pub, "Must be somewhere between the two places."
"Quite right," Sherlock says, following him, both of their long coats billowing behind them.
As Sherlock and the Doctor search for the cyber converter, John Watson and Colonel Cunningham ease the passing of the half-converted victims.
"Awful, isn't it?" John says, not really expecting an answer.
"Yes," the Colonel says, adding "The Cybermen are weak."
John pulls the plug on the last patient and the Colonel adds, "But they will be strong."
"Excuse me?" John says, looking up at him, not completely sure he heard him correctly.
"The Cybermen are weak, yes, but they will be strong," Colonel Cunningham repeats, "Strong with a mind like Sherlock's or the Doctor."
John reaches for his gun and points it at him, "Who are you?" he asks.
"A friend of the Cybermen," he says, grinning.
John cocks the gun, pulling the hammer back. "I will kill you," John says, "You wouldn't be the first."
"I know," the Colonel says, laughing, "I know exactly who you are Doctor Watson."
"I know your past, I know your future," he starts, "I know your strength...and I most certainly know your weaknesses."
"Which are," John says, impatiently, "Give me a reason not to kill you."
"Fine," Colonel Cunningham says, "I'll give you one. Two words..."
"Sherlock," he says sharply, adding, "Holmes."
Colonel Cunningham pulls his cellphone out his pocket, flipping through his messages before turning the phone around to show Watson a picture. The Doctor and Sherlock run through the streets of Holburn, following a false trail. "Right now Sherlock and the Doctor are running about the streets of central London, solving crimes and saving the universe, all the while forgetting about poor John Watson."
"He always leaves you behind, doesn't he?" he hisses, "Not because he wants to keep you safe, but because you're in the way. He doesn't want you around."
"Shut up!" John bellows, "I'll shoot you."
"You do that," the Colonel says, adding, "You do that, Watson, and I'll blow them away."
He laughs and says, "Some detective. He hasn't even noticed the two men trailing them."
"No matter though, because you'll be long gone before he even realizes what he's missed. " he adds, "Sherlock Holmes the piss poor detective."
John points his gun down, "You bastard," he hisses through gritted teeth, "He will come for me."
"Perhaps if you're lucky," Colonel Cunningham says, "But you'll be a fully functional Cyberman by then."
"Like hell I will," John says, still eager to fight.
"Don't struggle," the Colonel says, "You struggle, and he dies."
Meanwhile, in Holburn, Sherlock and the Doctor stride into the pub, not being able to find anything in the surrounding area. Sherlock orders a drink, which surprises the Doctor. "You drink beer?"
"Amongst other things, yes," he says.
Sherlock turns to sit at a table, eyes catching a strange man's glance. He says lowly, "We need to get back to the TARDIS."
"Why?" the Doctor says loudly like always, not being able to control his voice.
Sherlock quiets him, laughs fakely and says, "Do not draw attention to us."
The Doctor laughs nervously and hisses, "What is going on?"
"It's a trap," Sherlock says, "It's all been a trap."
"That man has been following us for at least four blocks if not more," Sherlock says, "A diversion."
"Finish your drink," Sherlock whispers, "And let's get out of here."
"We've left Watson alone," the Doctor says, "I hope he had enough sense not to follow us."
"The way I see it, he wouldn't have much opportunity," Sherlock says, "I knew Colonel Cunningham was hiding something. He has something to do with this."
Sherlock and the Doctor walk out of Princess Louise like nothing's changed. Sure enough they are followed once again. "Four more blocks," Sherlock says, "Whoever these men are, they sure aren't very receptive."
"Maybe they'd get it if we broke out into a run, huh?" the Doctor says, grinning.
Sherlock and the Doctor break into a run, dodging bullets by their followers. "Why couldn't we have just kept walking?" Sherlock says.
"Where's the fun in that?" the Doctor says as he unlocks the TARDIS door.
Sherlock runs inside to the control but the Doctor turns back to the men and calls, "Stop shooting my TARDIS!"
"What has she ever done to you?" the Doctor mutters as he closes the door behind him.
The Doctor flies to the TARDIS console as fast as he can, disregarding Sherlock, not wanting to waste any time.
"Why didn't we just land inside Scotland Yard?" Sherlock says, annoyed.
"The big men with the guns have deterred me since last time," the Doctor says heading for the door, "Sorry."
Sherlock whips out his phone to text Lestrade: Scotland Yard, holding cells, hurry. SH
They head for the main lift to take them down as far and as fast as they can go. "This is where we went last time," the Doctor says.
"I don't suppose you have a key, do you?" Sherlock asks.
"No," the Doctor says, reaching into his pocket, "But I do have a sonic!"
"What's that stupid thing?" Sherlock asks, "A torch?"
"A torch?" the Doctor repeats, "No, it's a screwdriver!"
"Looks like a torch to me," Sherlock says.
"Oi!" the Doctor says, "Don't diss the sonic!"
He sonics the key hole and the button glows blue. The Doctor beams with pride until the door opens. "Dammit!" Sherlock says, "Never have a gun when I need one."
"You're better off without it," the doctor says as they run down the hall to the holding cells, "You wouldn't get much use out of it anyway. The Cybermen are made of metal."
As Sherlock and the Doctor run to the rescue, John Watson's gotten himself into more trouble than he can imagine. "Please," he pleads, "Let me go."
"I'm not smart," he says, modestly, "Compared to Sherlock I'm nothing."
"You'll do just fine as our fourth test subject," Colonel Cunningham says, leading John into room 64.
"Why are you doing this?" John asks, "You're not a Cyberman."
"The Cybermen came to me during the night," Colonel Cunningham says, "They promised to make me better, right again."
"I'm dying, Watson," the Colonel says, "Terminal cancer."
"So you're going to kill people that have barely lived their lives yet. Like that girl," he starts, "To save yourself?"
"You, sir, are a sorry excuse for a soldier," he adds as a final insult.
"You'll be thanking me once you've been upgraded," Colonel Cunningham says nonchalantly, strapping John to the table.
"Damn," Sherlock hisses through gritted teeth, looking around the corner to see two armed guards.
"Oh, we can take em'," the Doctor says, walking out into the open.
"Captain Jack Harkness," the Doctor says, brandishing the psychic papers.
The guard takes it out of his hand and rolls his eyes. "Psychic paper," the soldier says, "Do you play us for fools, Doctor?"
"Well," the Doctor says, "It was worth a try," he snatches the psychic paper back, and he and Sherlock run down the hall and turn the corner.
"No," Sherlock says, "He won't be there," as the Doctor starts for the original room they had visited.
"C'mon John," Sherlock whispers lowly, unheard by the Doctor.
John bellows and yells as loudly as he can to draw attention to himself. "Sherlock!" he yells, "Sherlock!"
"Cute," the Colonel says, "It's like a little boy yelling for his mummy."
"You obviously don't know Sherlock," he says, "He's got just about as much empathy as a baked potato."
"Stop!" Sherlock orders, "What was that?"
"I didn't hear..." the Doctor starts, Sherlock shushing him.
"John," he says, breaking out into a run down the hall, now confident he knows where he is.
"Oh God, no," John says as the cyber converter turns on.
"This might hurt a bit," the Colonel says, sadistically grinning.
John tries to force his way out of the machine but he's tied in too tightly. "Don't you struggle," Colonel Cunningham says, "You know what happens when you struggle."
The Colonel's phone rings suddenly, "Hello?" he says, "You what?"
"You lost them?" he adds, "Where are you?"
"I'll have your head for this," he says, hanging up the phone, kicking the side of the cyber converter.
Electrical pulses are sent through John's body, causing him immense physical pain. "Noone's gonna save you now," the Colonel hisses, finally getting his way.
"You are slow," Sherlock says, bursting into the room.
"You," Colonel Cunningham hisses.
The Doctor rushes to disengage the cyber converter. John looks up at the blades spinning above his head, ready to butcher and dissect his brain. He holds his breath and closes his eyes as the machine stops. He exhales. "Thanks for that one, mate," he says, as the Doctor begins to sonic the restraints on his wrists, feet, and neck.
Colonel Cunningham draws Watson's gun, pointing it at Sherlock. "I will kill you," he says, "I've got nothing else to lose."
His hands shake, Sherlock spots fear in his eyes. "Clearly," Sherlock says, "If you had the intention of killing me you would have done it already."
"Don't tempt me!" the Colonel says.
"Is that a threat?" Sherlock says, stepping forward, "Because it seems to me like you are incapable of doing it yourself."
"I've killed three people!" he bellows.
"Yes, you have," Sherlock says, "But not on purpose."
"And," he adds, "Not with your own hands."
"Drop the gun!" a voice from the hall bellows as three detectives, including Lestrade, stride in, pointing their guns at him.
"Shoot me," the Colonel says, "Do me a favor."
"Oh hell," he adds, as he takes his own life.
Colonel Cunningham's body falls to the ground with a thud. "Bloody hell," Lestrade says, "What is that thing?"
"It needs to be destroyed," the Doctor says, "Melt it down, blow it up, whatever you have to do. It needs to be destroyed."
"Are you alright, John?" Sherlock begrudgingly asks, not very good at expressing his emotions.
"I'm alright," he says, "Thank you Sherlock."
Sherlock nods and says, "Yeah, well, thank me by not making one of those stupid blog posts about it, will you?"
"And we're back," John says, cracking a small smile, he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Looks like you're going to start writing fiction," the Doctor says, "No-one's going to believe you."
"Oh God," Sherlock says, "Those fictitious detective stories are always dreadful. Where's the imagination?"
"We can't all be like you, Sherlock," John says.
Sherlock raises his eyebrows and turns to leave. A few minutes later the Doctor takes them home, to 221B. "They do ask a lot of questions, don't they?" the Doctor asks.
"Always," John says.
"Well, I'll be off," the Doctor says.
"You could stay, you know," John says, "Help us with some cases."
"Nah," the Doctor says, "Too many people to meet, too many planets to see."
"Will we ever see you again?" John asks.
"If you need me," the Doctor says.
The Doctor turns to Sherlock, who extents his hand. "Right," the Doctor says, acknowledging Sherlock's silent peacemaking.
"You were brilliant, really," the Doctor says, passing the coat rack on the way to his TARDIS.
"Blimey, is this your hat?" he says putting on Sherlock's famous hat.
"Take it," Sherlock says, "They keep buying them for me, insisting I wear them."
"Brilliant!" the Doctor says, striding into his TARDIS.
"Goodbye!" John calls, but the police box is already fading away.
"What the bloody hell happened today?" John asks.
Sherlock sinks down into his chair, where he sits for the rest of the night.
"I asked you for a pen two hours ago," Sherlock says.
"I was writing," John says, "Besides, I didn't hear you."
Sherlock sighs and stands behind John, reading the blog post. "A Study in Blue?" he says, "Stupid name."
"What do you suggest I call it then?"
Sherlock sighs and says, "It's getting a bit redundant, isn't it? A Study in Pink, a Study in Blue."
Sherlock takes the computer out of his hands and types: A Study In Blue: The Cybermen Take London"
"That's not stupid at all," John says sarcastically.
"Fine then, change it back," Sherlock says.
"I guess it's alright," John says, letting Sherlock have his way, posting the story for all to see.