The street was quiet and deserted. The dim lamps provided little light, and a man and a woman ran through the shadows. He had dark hair that wouldn't lie flat and was clutching a metal rod with a blue end. She had blond hair with long highlights and a short jean jacket in true 2005 fashion. They stopped for a moment, to breathe. The London street was quiet but still they looked uneasy.
"D'you think we lost them?" the girl asked panting,
"I'm not quite sure." The man replied, "I can't hear them, so they may have given up the chase. Strange though. Normally core-comedenti don't give up that easily."
"I'll keep an eye out, but let's keep going. It's not far now," the girl whispered. She was probably about twenty-four or twenty-five and her eyes were heavily lidded with dark make-up. The man's age was more difficult to estimate; one could have guessed he was thirty, another forty-five. The truth was that he was over nine hundred years old, and certainly not of this Earth.
Little did they know they were not alone in the alleyway, from the other direction came to men, one in a long dark coat, the other in a beat-up jacket. The taller of the two, the one with the long coat and tousled dark hair, seemed to be deep in thought, mumbling to himself, or maybe to the man next to him. The shorter man, with day-old stubble, noticed the other two people on the street and elbowed his taller friend in the side. He looked down and the other man put a finger to his lips, pointing down the street.
Down the alley the same thing was happening. The girl, generally more observant of things that had to do with humans was also putting a finger to her lips. She was always conscious of how crazy passerby probably thought they were when they heard things like 'slavine', or 'dalek'.
The two groups of strangers drew closer and closer to each other before meeting. They almost passed, like two ships in the night, and would have had the girl not made eye contact with the taller of the two men. Immediately she looked down at the ground but he didn't. He scanned both of them quickly and pulled the shorter man to the side and began to whisper,
"Windswept hair, out of breath, the man less so than the woman, maybe because he's stronger, but something seems off. Her clothing is from approximately 2005 or 6, and his suit, while timeless, has about eighty years of wear on it… I need a DNA sample now." he said all this so fiercely and quickly that the other two strangers turned around to look at them.
"Can I help you?" the woman said, pushing her blonde hair out of her face, revealing large silver hoops through her ears. The man raised an eyebrow at the two strangers, but said nothing.
"Oh, my apologies, I didn't mean to disturb you," he put on a false voice, "what lovely earrings you have! My, my, may I look?" he reached towards her ear but instead grabbed one hair out of her head.
"Hey!" she said, reaching to give the strange man a slap. Before she could however, he had maneuvered around her and grabbed a hair from the man's fringe. And then before either of them could do anything the strange men had run down the street and away. "Aliens do you reckon?" she asked,
"No." the doctor replied, "just stupid humans. Come on Rose, we've got to go." and with that they took off swiftly through the night.
Back at their flat the two men bickered,
"It's too late to go to the lab, Sherlock!" the blond man said,
"It's only three, and this is important!" Sherlock, the taller man, said. He was lying on his back on a worn couch, his hands pressed together in front of him. The wallpaper was dark and patterned, and there were many dents in the wall from what looked like bullets.
"Molly's got the keys, we can't just wake her up! Be considerate Sherlock!"
"Too late." Sherlock held up his phone as it dinged with an incoming text. He looked at it and then smiled smugly at the other man, "Molly's awake and heading to the lab to open it for us." He threw his coat on and grabbed the small vials that contained the hairs.
"You're taking advantage of her," the short man warned, but it was no use; Sherlock had already left.
"What do you reckon those two weirdos were up to?" Rose asked, unwilling to let the subject go so soon,
"I'm not sure, but we really have to go soon." The man said, tapping a worn converse shoe against the tiled floor of his spaceship. He was an alien from a far off planet, and he traveled through time and space in a box that was bigger on the inside.
"Look! They're right there, getting into a cab!" she pointed out the window at the two men who were hurrying out a door marked 221. "I'm going after them." She said, throwing open the door,
"No! It's not…" but the wind ate the rest of his sentence, and Rose was halfway down the street. Rolling his eyes and grabbing his screwdriver, the Doctor ran after her, "don't blame me if all your blood is removed from your ears when they catch us."
"Is that what they do?" Rose asked incredulously. The Doctor grinned,
"Maybe."
The lab lights flickered on one by one automatically. John leaned against the counter and glared at Sherlock,
"I don't see what the big deal was. Two people out of breath in the middle of the night –like us Sherlock." He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms,
"John I'm not sure they were entirely human." He said it so seriously, his dark eyes so wide and fearful, that John burst out laughing. Even Molly chuckled a little from the doorway.
"You're tired Sherlock. That's ridiculous. Frankly I think you're looking for a case where there's none to be found." John said sharply. At the same time the computer beeped a loud signal that caused a smug smirk to creep over Sherlock's face. Molly's eyes went wide and John gasped,
"Unrecognizable. Non-human DNA." The computer said in its monotone voice.