A/N: This is just a little one-shot that I wrote for school and wanted to share with you. I haven't edited it any more than I did when working on it. Enjoy!

Sherlock Holmes was sitting in a chair in the flat at 221B Baker St. and thinking, violin in one hand and bow in the other. He was playing quite loudly, and he could tell that he was making Dr. John Watson mad. That did not matter, though. The violin helped him think. That was what he had told John the very first time they had met, and John hadn't seemed to worry much about it at the time.

Just then, a loud metallic noise filled the room along with a strong breeze. Sherlock noticed that the breeze was not coming from outside because the curtains were blowing outwards. The breeze was inside the room. The noise and the breeze continued, and something was starting to appear slowly, fading a little out and then becoming more and more visible for every time. When it had finally stopped, John quickly got up from his chair, staring at what was now standing in their living room. Sherlock, however, stayed in the chair, only putting his violin away. In the living room stood a big, blue box with the words "Police Public Call Box" on the top.

"Sherlock... What's that?" muttered John with a shocked expression on his face. "Well, it's obviously a police box," replied Sherlock, standing up and studying the box. "Like the kind from the 60s. It looks newer than it is because of the very blue colour." He couldn't say more about it because anything else would be irrational and impossible, like the fact that the police box had simply materialized in front of them.

While Sherlock was staring at the box and trying to figure it out, the door opened and a head popped out. The owner of the head had floppy, brown hair and the face of a very childish man. Sherlock looked at him and started deducting at once. Even though the man did look childish, the detective could see that his eyes were old and he had clearly seen a lot of things that many people had not.

"Oh, hello there!" greeted the man with a silly grin. He walked out of the police box and stood in front of the two men. "I'm the Doctor, nice to meet you." He reached out his hand for John and Sherlock to shake, but Sherlock ignored it. "I'm Sherlock Holmes and this is my friend, Dr. John Watson," he told the man. The Doctor looked so surprised at this information that he didn't even care that neither of the men had bothered to greet him properly. Not that it was so odd, with him coming out of some police box in the middle of their living room and all. "Sherlock Holmes – really?" said the Doctor with a pleased expression on his face. "It's my greatest honour to meet you," he nodded towards John, "and Dr. Watson, too, of course!" The man did not seem to realize that both of them cared less about the honour (or why it was an honour at all) and more about how he got that box inside their flat.

"Who are you?" asked John then. "Oh, right! It must be very confusing with this big box and all," said the Doctor, throwing out his arms like a big idiot with a grin on his face. He looked like one happy madman as he started babbling. "As I said before, I'm the Doctor. That's my name, by the way, I'm not actually a medical doctor, though I've been around long enough to find out this and that about many areas. I'm a time-traveller, and this," he indicated the box, "is my time machine, the TARDIS. That stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space, which of course means that it can travel through space, too." At the end of this explanation, Sherlock noticed that the Doctor looked very proud, even though it was obvious that he had said most of this many times before.

"So, you're an alien," said Sherlock. It wasn't a question. The Doctor sobered up and looked at him. "Yes, in fact I am," he replied. Then he smiled again, opening the TARDIS door. "Would you like to see the inside?"

John frowned at that. "Won't it be a bit intimate?" he asked. The Doctor laughed and walked inside the box. "Take a look!" he called. Just the fact that he actually did raise his voice inside that box for them to hear him, made Sherlock curious. He followed the strange man and stopped before he had come three steps into the TARDIS.

It was huge, much bigger than the little box standing in 221B Baker St., and this seemed to be only one room. The room was filled with a sort of orangey light. There were two staircases, one leading to a big and round console with many colourful buttons and levers in it, and one leading to somewhere else that Sherlock could not see. The Doctor was already dancing around the console, pressing some buttons, probably at random, and the glass floor he was standing on was obviously very slippery. It was either that or the Doctor's shoes.

John had followed them in, but he only stared for a few seconds before he ran outside, walking around the box to check that it hadn't suddenly changed, and then walked inside again. "It's bigger on the inside," he muttered dazedly. "Well, not really. It's actually-" started the Doctor, walking down the stairs to face the men, but he was interrupted by Sherlock. "It's another dimension. Isn't it, Doctor?"

The Doctor grinned. "Yes, it is! Ha-ha, I should have known you would understand that, with a mastermind like yours," he said. "So, all of time and space at our fingertips. Would you like to come for a trip?" Sherlock glanced at John before he nodded. And that's the story of how Sherlock Holmes and John Watson started travelling with an alien through time and space.