Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes. If I did, every story would have a cat.

A/N: I have not read every single story, so forgive any errors. I have only been able to read those included in my hand-me-down anthology (and it is extremely limited). And if it makes anyone feel better, this is AU.

Prologue

Tibet, 1892

Sherlock Holmes, currently presumed dead, was about to enjoy a pleasant afternoon with a temple of Tibetan monks. He had just been offered a unique looking pipe, part of a ritual ceremony. Before being allowed to meet the head Llama, he had to purify his body and mind of all negativity. This was done through two ceremonies. In the first he drank a bitter tea, one made with specific herbs in order to cleanse the toxins in the body. After the tea came the pipe, which burned, not with tobacco, but with an unknown leaf that even Homes was unable to identify.

After taking a few puffs as instructed by the silent monk accompanying him, Holmes returned the pipe to the stand where it had been. He then sat in silent meditation, closing his eyes and mentally reciting a quick mantra. A noise disturbed him, and he opened one eye to observe what had occurred.

Across the room was a swirling eddy of light. Holmes opened both eyes wide in fascination. No doubt this was a hallucinogenic effect of the drug he had just taken. The monk who was sitting beside him also opened his eyes, aware of the disturbance. This surprised Homes; surely no plant could cause the same vision for two individuals? Either this was not a hallucination, or whatever was within the pipe had a nearly preternatural power.

It soon became evident that the former was the case. The monk, who had been trained his entire life in the art of calm and serenity, had just run from the room in pure fright. The light grew larger, until it was of the right dimensions for a human being to fit through. Holmes simply waited for whatever was going to happen to happen. Of all the mysteries he'd encountered, this was one that he couldn't solve by deduction alone.

There was a sudden distortion in the light, and a human figure emerged. Holmes hardly reacted. The measurements of the anomaly had suggested that it was nothing more than a strange doorway. Rather, it was the new figure that caught his attention. A young man, no more than thirty years of age. He wore clothing that would have been suitable for any London man, yet it was clear that he was uncomfortable in the outfit. Holmes concluded that he wasn't accustomed to wearing such formal clothes. A second, older man appeared behind the first. He was the one who spoke.

"Are you Sherlock Holmes, the famed detective?"

"I believe you already know that to be true," Holmes answered. Although he was still considered 'dead' by the world at large, there were a select few who knew of his continued existence. His brother, Mycroft, was one such person. The only others were his enemies. Since neither of these men were of Moriarty's gang, they were either from his brother or an unknown third party if they knew that he was alive. As such, denying his identity would hardly clear matters up, especially if this was only a highly advanced hallucination.

"We need you to come with us," the older man said. Taking a hesitant step forward, he glanced back at the younger man for assistance. The latter shook his head.

"I'm not going to force him. Edward said that would make him suspicious of our intentions," the young man whispered. The older stranger laughed.

"How is any of this not suspicious?"

"Mr. Holmes," the young man said, "we don't mean you any harm. We just need your unique assistance."

"We have a mystery most, uh, incredible. Sensational, even. No one has been able to solve it."

"Please, will you help us?"

Sherlock Holmes stood up and headed towards the 'light door'. Relief flooded the strangers' faces. They had been worried that the great detective would refuse. If that had been the case, they would have been forced to use a tranquilizer in order to complete their mission.

For Holmes, he could not have been more eager to accept the case. The unusual arrival of his clients was a mystery in and of itself, one that he was determined to understand. Although he knew the inherent risk of placing himself in the care of two such unusual strangers, he really had nothing to lose. The world thought him deceased and, although he planned to eventually return to London, he would not be missed while on this case.

"Glad to have you with us, Mr. Holmes. I am Steven Coleman, and my partner is Heath Austen," the older man said. "Just take my arm and we'll be on our way."

"And where might we be headed?" Holmes asked.

"Back to London," the younger man, Mr. Austen, said. "London, 2009."

With that, the two strangers passed through the light, pulling Holmes through with them into a fantastic new world.

A/N: Yes, this is a time travel fic. It's the result of reading The Empty House while an episode of Star Trek was on TV. A plot bunny was born, and it was so helpless that I took it in. I hope you enjoy the result.