John could not believe his eyes. Initially, he was on the verge of crying. His peripheral senses were locked on the tall, lean man in black, standing dangerously close to the edge of the St Barts Hospital. The blood within him froze and his heart felt like it was stopping. Oh no… Dear God…Sherlock, his best friend, was going to jump.

But then…that happened.

Sherlock's heart began to uncontrollably pound inside his chest, making him feel sick to his stomach with fear. He couldn't let the emotions, the fear, control him. Sherlock had something to do, he had to do it. For John. For Lestrade. For Mrs Hudson.

He didn't look when he tossed his phone aside, just the clatter as the plastic hit the ground alerted him to its landing. With one single breath, Sherlock lightly pushed off from the edge with his heels, succumbing to the fate of gravity. It would only be seconds now…

Before Sherlock's mind could even comprehend what was before him anymore, which to be fair, was extremely rare. Something dark and bottomless lay before him and he was momentarily confused. There was black and blue and then orange and gold light; he could see the colours being emitted from somewhere deep within. The dark and black, and gold and orange light filled all his vision. Then he landed. Hard and very much alive.

Hard surface. Metal. Cold. Grated. Something like an engine—possibly more-rumbled under the floor. The air was warm, but it was January. No wind or breeze at all. He was inside something…One of Moriarty's tricks?

Groggily, Sherlock opened his eyes, scrambling quickly to his feet; he rubbed at the side of his head and looked round.

"What?" His deep voice rumbled, as he looked round to see a blue cylinder column connected to a surrounding circular-like desktop, filled with miscellaneous buttons and levers galore.

He wasn't in awe as such; he was just confused and extremely interested in this new and bizarre landscape. But… the breeze from outside began to ruffle his hair… He looked to his left and saw the pale dreary sky above, the side of the building he had just fallen from. Then that means…whatever this is…is connected to the building itself! Illusion…Baskerville virus…bigger on the inside…multi-dimensional… Slowly, Sherlock went to walk over, but the doors instantly fell closed with a snap.

"Hey, we just saved your life, aren't you going to say thank you? And don't worry; it is bigger on the inside." Sherlock snapped his head to the right to see a tall, slim red-headed woman entering the room. The type John would be drooling over. Sherlock looked on silently, deducing everything he could.

Scottish. Used to live in England. Bullied. Four psychiatrists. Waited, but waited for what..? Interesting fashion choice… Sherlocksilently noticed the short, mini skirt …Daring, feisty, strong. Married. Obviously the dominant one. A traveller. She was telling a truth for years, even when everyone thought she was lying... Waited, waited for what…four psychiatrists… Sherlock had gotten enough, but not nearly enough to know everything about her… There was something different..as if she was being protected..his perceptions were being filtered, somehow. He could tell.

Then a man came in, wearing extremely odd atire, with a bowtie and tweed to match. Obviously didn't care what people thought about him. Manic. Alarmingly intelligent. Bizare…

"Hellooo! I'm the Doctor! You know how it is, Amy. Only flying around London for a bit of fun and we get a 'jumper.' Nice to meet you, by the way. And to save you of course." The man walked over to take Sherlock's hand in a friendly shake, but Sherlock only eyed the young man and his hovering hand silently, stubbornly keeping his own gloved hands within his pockets.

"Hang on, I know you, don't I…?" said the red head, Amy, slighty in awe, while 'the Doctor' continued to smile, retracting his hand and bounced back to the central column and played with buttons.

The girl was waiting for this man.. but what for..? But the waiting has stopped now. Yes. Stopped. She's got him, her love.. No. She's married… an affair..? Nooo. Too strange. They're friends. Only friends. Travelling companions.…

"You're married. Where's your husband? And this..thing… multi-dimensional. Transcendent. Not human, is it?"

"You were quite lucky in fact, usually, anyone that lands here might usually, quite possibly land in the swimming pool...-oh, you humans, always love suprising me, don't you?-You're quite bright, arent you? For a human that is-."

"-Oi!"

"Sorry, Pond. This is my companion, Amy-."

"I know."

"-Riiiight, of course you do. I'm the Doctor, and we just saved your life."

"You ruined my plan."

"Oh, have we? Sorry about that. I always pop up at the wrong time but always for the right reasons. Now, Mr…?

"Sherlock. Sherlock holmes!" Amy declared, grinning brightly.

Sherlock sighed in annoyance, it seemed everyone was reading that blog, even time and space travellers? "I see you've been reading John's blog," Sherlock replied, cooly. He knew he should be doing other things, faking his own death, but this was quite something. Hardly complex, though. Just merely interesting.

"You're human," he declared, pointing a finger directly at Amy who cocked her head to the side in amusement. "But you aren't, are you, Doctor?" Sherlock eyed the slightly surprised man in tweed near him. The Doctor smilied warmly back at him.

"See. I told you he was good," Amy muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.