"John?" Damnit where was he? Probably off on one of those dates he's always going on about. But there was a case to be solved and now Sherlock had no skull and no John.
"The skull never bothered with dates."
Sherlock walked back into the living room of their flat and stared at the statue Lestrade had brought in that morning. Apparently people had been vanishing into thin air in the park over the past week and this thing was the only new addition to the grounds. Surely it was related, but how?
He sat down at John's computer; it was still open. John never left his computer open. He still maintained the ridiculous notion that if he kept changing his password Sherlock wouldn't be able to break into it.
He had been halfway through his latest blog entry when he left. How very unlike John to leave something half done.
Computer left open and unlocked and blog entry unfinished; something was wrong.
"Oh! Oh, John, you idiot."
Sherlock turned back to the statue and looked it over for the hundredth time. No hidden cameras. No hidden mechanics. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And yet he knew it was related to the disappearances and now, he feared, it had taken John as well.
"But how? How are you doing it? Who made you?" He wound his way around the stone angel again and then dropped himself onto the couch. He had to focus. He had to think. He had to save John.
He closed his eyes and ran through every related file in his head. Six people had gone missing from the park since the statue had been added, seven in total when you add John. The city had no records of anyone buying or donating the statue to the park. So far as he could tell the missing persons were not connecting in anyway other than they enjoyed wasting their time wandering around a park. Whoever was behind this, it wasn't personal. They were snatching people at random. But how? And why?
"Don't even think about it!"
Sherlock's eyes flung open, annoyed at the interruption. He's annoyance gave way to shock, something he was not particularly used to, when he saw the stone statue's fanged face mere inches from his own.
"You humans, always closing your eyes when you shouldn't. Right. Okay. Where are we? I'm the Doctor by the way, just the Doctor. And who are you?"
Sherlock stared at the man in the bowtie for a moment.
"The name is Sherlock Holmes and you're in London, you dolt."
"Oh. Oh! Sherlock Holmes! Now I understand! That's why it disappeared like that. The clever thing fell through a hole in our universe into a parallel universe; of course!. Interesting. And yes, quite obviously London, but not my London so you'll understand my confusion." He walked over to Sherlock and walked around him mumbling things Sherlock couldn't make sense of, which made him extremely uneasy. He stopped dead in front of him and stared at him, getting closer until his face was inches from Sherlock's.
"Look at you! You're Sherlock Holmes! A really for real Sherlock Holmes!" The Doctor pulled what appeared to be a screwdriver from his pocket, which began to make what Sherlock could only identify as an extremely irritating sound as he waved it in Sherlock's face.
"Are you just about done?"
"Oh, terribly sorry. New universe, new readings, and you! You're Sherlock Holmes! You don't exist in my universe. Well I mean you do but you're a book not a person. But look at you!" The Doctor grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders and shook him, laughing.
"What do you mean I don't exist? Of course I exist, idiot." Sherlock pushed his hand off and grabbed the screwdriver from the Doctor's hands. "And what exactly is this? A screwdriver?" He pushed a button that emitted the noise once more as he turned the device over in his hands. Something new. He rarely got something new to play with.
"Sonic screwdriver, actually. And I'll be having it back if you don't mind," the Doctor said as he snatched it back out of Sherlock's hands.
"Now then," he turned to the statue, which was still frozen over the couch. "What do we do about you?"