Sam and dean Winchester were sitting on the hood, of the infamous '67 impala. With a beer and, a burger in their hands, they couldn't be happier. Well as happy as they'd been in a long time. The last hunt had gone well, just a simple vengeful spirit, and a salt and burn. Dean squinted at the blazing Washington sun.

It was always nice finding a peaceful area on a old dirt road to stop and think. Sam looked a little unsettled. Dean couldn't blame him. After all, he just got the crap scared out of him when he started hallucinating Lucifer. He was most likely expecting Lucifer jump out to beat the crap out of him. Which, to be honest dean thought about almost hourly, Dean was starting to doze off just sitting there, while Sam seemed wide awake and aware.

Dean leaned back on the hood, so his back was leaned against the windshield. He placed his hands behind his head and decided on a nap. He was just about to let sleep greet him, when a horrible whirring sound appeared. It sounded like a broken blender. Deans first reaction was to go for the gun. He shot up and opened his eyes...seeing nothing other than a large blue box.

"Sherlock?" John asked, and began walking the 13 steps to their flat.
John was a bit worried. He was just about to leave work when he had gotten the text. 'JOHN, HOME NOW PLEASE. -SH' John found Sherlock's weird habit to add SH to the end of every text odd, but he normally just went with it. He cracked open the door to 221B to find Sherlock pacing in front of the window.

"Sherlock?" John asked again.

"AH, Yes Johnny-Boy!"

"Are you alright?"

"Uh...yes of course I'm perfect- well not perfect, no one's perfect! I'm gonna shut up now..." Sherlock stopped and placed his hands together.

"Mind telling me what the bloody hell this is about?"

"Um...I found something."

"Oh god Sherlock...what'd you do!" John threw his hands in the air in frustration.

"Nothing, I was um- looking for things in the alley behind the building."

"You mean, you were smoking" John wasn't stupid.

"Shut up, John. Just follow me."

John shook his head in disappointment, Sherlock scoffed and with two swift movements he had his coat on, and his scarf in hand. John followed his flat-mate out the door. They walked outside, and around the building. Sherlock tapped his foot nervously as John looked at the thing.

"...is th-this the um TARDIS?- from Doctor Who?..."

"Yes John. We have a spaceship in our backyard."

"Well that's just- that's just flipping fabulous! Let's go buy a horse while we're at it!"

There goes Jawn's sarcastic rampage. Sherlock thought.