"CLARA!"
The Doctor leaned against the side of his TARDIS as he waited for Clara to come into the control room. She ran in, panting a little, and steadied herself on the railing around the console.
"Why does it always take you so long to get here?" the Doctor asked, half to himself.
"Well, maybe if you hadn't given me a bedroom half a mile in I'd be able to get here a bit quicker"
The Doctor looked sideways at his companion as he pulled a lever. She seemed disgruntled.
"Sorry," he said "all the others were taken"
"Taken?" she enquired, a smile creeping its way onto her lips.
"Yes. With…stuff. Lots of…stuff. Now, do you mind pressing that button?" he gestured to one near where Clara was standing.
"This one?"
"Yeah" the Doctor replied without looking. Clara hesitated, then pressed it just as the Doctor shifted another lever. The ship juddered to a halt, almost turning on its side.
"Contradictory control use. She's confused," said the Doctor, "Won't be up again for a while. Out we go, leave her to sulk for a bit"
"What? Just like that? We don't even know where we are."
"Well, we're going to find out, aren't we?" he walked to the door and Clara grinned, running to catch up with him.
"You called it a she. How come?" asked Clara.
"It's a long st-" the Doctor started, then stopped abruptly when he pulled the door open.
"What is it?" Clara said, trying to peek round the Doctor.
"Nothing. A whole lot of nothing. Boring stuff, you know the sort"
"Er…no, not really. Not with you"
The Doctor turned on his heels and ran back to the console, pressing buttons frantically before sighing and walking back to the door. Clara looked at him, hoping…
"Fine." He said.
"Yes!" Clara exclaimed, a little too excitedly. The Doctor pulled open the doors once more and stepped out. Clara followed, expecting monsters, aliens, planets…
"It's earth." She said, seeing the terraced houses and a little café with a dirty awning.
"Yes, it's earth. 2012, to be precise."
"So why…?"
"There are dangerous times even in the most mundane of places, Clara."
A man was coming out of the house opposite. He had mousy hair and was wearing a brown coat and navy trousers. He saw them staring at him and crossed the road. The Doctor muttered something under his breath that sounded like "oh no", before the man came to a stop in front of them.
"Sorry," said the man, "but you'll have to take that somewhere else. I don't know how you even got it here in the first place, but this is a no – parking zone. Seriously, you'll get clamped."
The Doctor just stared at him. Clara, even more confused to see the Doctor speechless, spoke first.
"We had a bit of an accident. We'll be gone in a bit, don't worry"
She looked at the Doctor for help, and he flashed out of his trance – like state.
"Yes, right, yes we did," he said, turning on his heels, "so, John -"
"Hang on," the man interrupted, "how do you know my name? Do you know Sherlock?"
"Who's Sherlock?" Clara asked, "Doctor?"
Again, the Doctor seemed dumbstruck, but seeing Clara's expression, he turned to John.
"Can we come in?"
"Uh, I suppose so" replied the man, his hand moving to a bulge in the left pocket of his jacket. He crossed the road to one of the houses and pushed open the door. He led Clara and the Doctor up a flight of stairs and through another door into a flat. It had the feeling of the living space of some sort of eccentric Victorian professor, Clara thought, with practically every available surface covered in papers. It didn't seem the kind of place where the man they'd just met, John, would live. The Doctor seemed right at home, making his way towards a sofa and flopping down onto it. Clara stood by him awkwardly: after all, she had no idea why they were even there in the first place.
"I'll just, uh, get…" the man said, and hurried off, leaving Clara to hiss "Doctor, why are we here?". Before he could reply, however, the man returned , this time with another man with him. He had dark hair that fell around his angular face, and wore a crisp suit. There was something cold about him, and it put Clara on edge.
"Sherlock…" John waved a hand towards the Doctor and Clara and then made himself scarce. Sherlock sat down in front of them, placing his hands under his chin as if in prayer.
"Doctor." He said.
"Who…?" Clara asked, getting annoyed by now at the lack of answers. The Doctor suddenly sprang to his feet and began pacing the room, talking as he did so.
"Clara, this is Sherlock Holmes, the greatest detective the world has ever seen. He's clever beyond anything anyone's ever experienced on this planet, almost to the extent that he doesn't seem human. He's…"
Clara interrupted, "but I read the Sherlock Holmes books. Did you have really weird parents or something?"
"No! No! Don't you understand? He doesn't seem human because he's not. Those stories, they weren't just stories: they were true! Old Arthur caught on and wrote his own stories…"
"Highly incorrect." Said Sherlock, who until now had remained silent.
"Yes, well, artistic licence, you can't blame him. But my point is that this man, Sherlock Holmes…he's a Time Lord."
Sherlock butted in, "You said you'd never mention it."
"I haven't, Sherlock…well, not until just now. Anyway, Clara needs to know: it could just save her life."
Sherlock narrowed his eyes.
"So," said Clara, still not quite getting it, "you're like him. You have…two hearts? But I thought you said you were the last?" She turned to the Doctor.
"Rule 1: the Doctor lies." He muttered, then more loudly, "Ever wondered why I'm so interested in Earth, Clara Oswald? I think I'd better start from the beginning"
The Doctor took a deep breath.
"This is something I've never told anyone, Clara, so you'd better listen carefully.
When I left my planet with my grand- daughter, I wasn't alone. I had a wife. We came to Earth and she sort of…fell in love. We came in Victorian times, and he was an ex –solider called John Watson. I left to go travelling without her: she was content here, and I was content as well. And, after a short time, she regenerated. Into a man. The only way they could conceal their relationship was to move in together as flatmates, so that they did. She chose a new name, and everything was fine. But John started getting old, and weak, and she – he – couldn't bear to live without him. And then…well, this is the bit I'm ashamed of. Then, he called me. I helped to turn John into a…a robot, I suppose. We travelled around, stealing parts from other races, and gradually built a suit for John's consciousness. Pretty brilliant stuff, and he's just like any other human on the outside, but stealing…anyway, Sherlock always did have a tendency to get into trouble, so I said I'd help."
"Oh." Said Clara.
"Yes, oh."
They all stood in silence for a while, until John came back into the room.
"Everything okay?" he asked, glancing at Sherlock, who didn't reply.
"Yes, everything's fine," said the Doctor, "Got any tea?"
"Er, yes". John walked into the adjoining kitchen.
"Doctor," Sherlock said, narrowing his eyes, "there's something you aren't telling me."
It seemed he was about to launch into an explanation of how he knew this when the Doctor stopped him.
"Yes, alright," he said, "There is something I'm not telling you. But it's for your own good."
Clara was outraged. Again? She narrowed her eyes at the Doctor, just as Sherlock was doing. He stood there uncomfortably for a moment, then all of a sudden jumped backwards over the sofa and started pacing the apartment. Sherlock surveyed him silently. Clara caught John's eye and gave him a confused look. He shrugged back and beckoned her into the kitchen.
"Do they always do this?" She asked.
"No, they –" John started to reply but noticed the Doctor stroll out of the door, followed by Sherlock who was shrugging on his coat. Clara looked at John again and they ran out after the two men.
"DOCTOR!" Clara shouted when they reached the street. Sherlock and John were climbing into a cab. She and John followed, taking the backwards – facing seats.
"Doctor, I need you to tell me what's going on" Clara said. She was really fed up of the Doctor now: how he was acting like he was more superior than her and never told her what he was up to, his constant running off, his secret ex – wife…
"Clara," said the Doctor, staring into her eyes, "I need you to trust me. Please. I'll explain everything soon, I promise."
"Okay" Clara replied, her voice hoarse. The taxi stopped and the four of them got out. Sherlock and the Doctor headed towards an ordinary-looking Victorian house leaving John to pay the driver of the cab. When it drove off, John and Clara joined the two men.
"Where are we?" asked Clara.
"Mycroft's house" answered Sherlock, a faint hint of disgust in his voice.
"Who's -" Clara was interrupted by the opening of the door. A small Chinese woman in a suit ushered them in to a living room where Mycroft was sitting in a green leather armchair, a paper between his hands.
"Hello, brother dearest" said Mycroft. Sherlock ignored him.
The Doctor spread himself in one of the many armchairs dotted around the room. It looked like it hadn't changed since the 1800s, Clara mused: the walls were panelled with dark wood, a bookshelf stood at one end of the room and a ceramic – plated fireplace at the other. All of the chairs were made of the same green leather, and a red rug covered part of the tiled floor.
"We need your help" said Sherlock, seating himself on a sofa.
"Well, there's a surprise. What is it this time?"
Sherlock narrowed his eyes at his brother.
"Wait, are you a Time Lord too?" asked Clara.
"Yes." Mycroft answered, before turning to the Doctor.
"We're being chased again." Said the Doctor, looking at Mycroft meaningfully.
Mycroft nodded back.
"Chased by what?"
The Doctor looked at Clara.
"Remember what I told you earlier, about stealing from other planets? Well, now they're not exactly pleased with me. They want what they had back and, well…" He glanced at John, "We can't let them have it."
Finally, Clara had some answers. She didn't see why she couldn't have been told earlier, but at least she knew now.
"Mycroft, I need you to keep John and Sherlock safe. I'd say it's safe to bet that we're surrounded by ships, and they're in danger."
"No!" John said, "whatever's out there, I want to fight it. This is about me, isn't it?"
Sherlock went over to John.
"John, this is the safest place for you. I don't want you to get hurt."
"I'm a solider. I know how to fight.
"This won't be like any war you've ever experienced"
"Please, Sherlock. Nothing was ever solved by hiding away."
Sherlock sighed and put his hands on John's hips. He leaned in to Sherlock, put his chin on his shoulder and laced his arms around the back of the other man's neck, a ritual that had obviously been done countless times.
John whispered something in Sherlock's ear and they broke apart.
"We're going to fight" said Sherlock.
The Doctor made an exasperated noise.
"Fine. But don't blame me if anyone gets hurt."
With that, the Doctor turned on his heels and walked down the corridor and out of the front door.