A/N: Hello, readers and a happy FanFiction Friday the 13th to you all! I know it's been a while, but here we have a new story. This is something that I've been working on for the last couple of months as a (sort of) sequel to Swaddled in Pink. By no means do you HAVE TO read that story first, but all of the players are the same, and it is a pretty short one-shot, so what have you got to lose? Three minutes? :)

Before the story begins though, I do have to thank a few people:

1) TheWheelWeaves - Beta, muse, idea-bouncer-off-er, and all around beautiful and fantastic person. Without her help, much of this would have stalled/not been possible. (and yes, if you haven't checked out her RoseLock series This Rose is Extra, do it now. You can thank me later)

2) SquirrelWho - the Queen of RoseLock. Thank you for introducing us all to the ship (or canoe) that we never knew we needed.

3) my Person... Thing - HP fanfiction brought us together 13 years ago (SWEET MOTHER OF-!) and we are still going strong. Please do not read this until you are all caught up on the Whoniverse though. There be (some) spoilers here.

4) The ladies who chat - LaylaCrimson & Veritascara - Always an inspiration, and full of support. Couldn't have gotten to this point without you! (And Miss LaylaCrimson - for your *grabby hands* here you go!)

Anyhow, enough blithering and parenthetical expressions. On with the show!

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Chapter 1

It had been a long day, and rehearsal had taken a lot out of her. While she was both honored and excited to be cast in the title role of the spring gala production of Cinderella, the stress of it all was starting to catch up to her. If she pulled this off, she was all but guaranteed a spot in the Royal Ballet. If not... Well, at least she had a very supportive family. Packing the last of her things into her bag, she said farewell to her friends and hurried out of the building and onto the busy streets of London.

Pausing at the corner of Floral and James Street, she dropped a few coins into the cup of a homeless man as she waited to cross. "Wotcher, Billy."

He nodded, acknowledging her generosity with a quick wink. "Thank you, Miss."

She smiled gently at him and tried hard not to roll her eyes. "Tell him I'm fine."

"Don't know what you're talking about, Miss," he replied with a smirk.

"I'll be home in plenty of time for dinner," she muttered to him before making her way back into the crowd of people.

She shook her head, thinking how everyone else in this city seemed to just overlook the homeless that they encountered. She, however, knew better. Many of the city's homeless, including Billy, were actually in the employ of her father. They did far more good than harm, despite what the masses may believe.

Jackie Holmes had been raised on stories of adventure and intrigue, murder and ascendancy (the last mostly at the hand of her Uncle Mycroft). Between the countless criminals that her father had helped to place behind bars, and the aliens that her mother had once helped the Doctor banish from the Earth and back to the stars, she knew better than to ignore her surroundings. That's how she knew to look for Billy - her father always had one of his homeless network cross her path as she left the Royal Ballet School. Or their flat. Or the shops. Or the pub. Really, he had a network of spies at his disposal and he put them to use to keep tabs on her. Not that she minded. It was how he showed affection.

However, today she also encountered something new. Intending to make a quick run into Marks & Spencer before hopping on the tube to head home, out of the corner of her eye noticed something that she never expected to come across and stopped dead in her tracks. It was blue police box that she knew for a fact hadn't been on the street earlier that day, and yet everyone seemed to walk right by it as if it wasn't worth their notice.

Swallowing back the giddy laugh that threatened to escape from her, she quickly pulled out her phone and snapped a picture, intending to send it to her mother. When the door of the police box opened and a woman with the curliest head of hair she had ever seen peeked out though, Jackie thought better of it. Instead, she quickly typed her cousin Abigail's number in along with a short message:

999! M&S on Long Acre. Come NOW. -JX

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It took nearly 20 minutes, but Abigail finally appeared from the recesses of the Covent Garden underground. Heaving an exasperated sigh, Jackie hurried across the street from where she had been pacing in front of Marks & Spencer and grabbed the older girl's arm to pull her to the street corner opposite the police box.

"What?" Abigail asked, somewhat annoyed by the emergency summons. She hated it when Jackie got like this; she was so revved up you could practically feel the tension vibrating off of her.

"Look!" Jackie commanded, gesturing across the street. "Look at it!"

Abigail couldn't help but roll her eyes. "What am I supposed to..." She trailed off, and Jackie knew her eyes had finally focused on it. "Oh. My. God."

Without waiting for her to say anything else, Jackie grabbed Abigail's hand and pulled her across the street. The two girls circled the police box, marveling at its very (impossible) presence. Once they arrived back at the doors, Jackie reached out tentatively toward the handle. Before she could grasp it though, the door flew open and a young man appeared in front of them, causing both to leap back in surprise.

"Oh, hello!" he exclaimed, straightening the bowtie he wore. "I don't suppose you've seen the Prince of Wales anywhere, have you?"

"Sor- Sorry?" Abigail stammered.

"This is London, isn't it?" He turned back toward the inside of the box. "River, I thought you said we were in London," he called over his shoulder.

Jackie, for her part, laughed outright. "Oh, yeah," she nodded. "Just happened to see him hopping on the tube," she told him.

The man snapped his attention back toward her, narrowing his eyes. There was something familiar about this girl, something that he couldn't quite place. "Who are you?"

"Well, who are you?" Jackie countered. "Not supposed to just talk to strangers, after all."

"You came up to my- " he huffed, but stopped when he saw her disarming grin, with just a bit of tongue poking out from between her teeth. "Box..." he finished quietly, his mind suddenly a universe - and parallel world - away. He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts, and focused back on the girls standing before him. Deciding to try another approach, he straightened up, slapped a smile across his face, and started fresh. "Hello, I'm The Doctor."

At this declaration, Jackie felt the smile slowly fade from her face. It wasn't a surprise - after all, when faced with the evidence of the blue police box it was the only logical conclusion that could be reached. However, she found that she was suddenly fighting the instinct to flee from the spot although at the same time she found herself rooted in place and her mouth suddenly dry.

Fortunately, Abigail spoke up on her behalf. "Doctor who, exactly?"

"What? Why does everybody always ask that? No who. Just The Doctor."

"Well then, The Doctor, I'm Abby Watson. And this is my cousin, Jackie," she paused momentarily for dramatic effect, just to let the name sink in. "Jackie Holmes."

As anticipated, The Doctor's eyes widened when she first said Jackie's name, once again reminded of someone worlds away. But then something else seemed to click into place. The surnames of each of the girls. That was rather odd, wasn't it?

"Sorry," another voice chimed in. The woman with the curly hair appeared at the Doctor's side. "But did you say Watson and Holmes? As in Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson?" Abigail nodded. She and Jackie looked at each other, each finding her own puzzled expression mirrored on the other's face. When they looked back at the Doctor and his companion, the woman smiled and held up a finger. "Just give us a minute," she said, pulling the Doctor back inside the box and closing the door behind them.

"Your mum is going to freak out," Abigail whispered to Jackie.

"I am going to freak out."

Meanwhile, in another part of London, in a flat on Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes received another text from Billy:

Covent Garden. Blue police box. Keeping watch on JH & AW.

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A/N: Chapter one complete. Typical plea for reviews... they are always appreciated!