"You mind telling me what the Hell we're doing in England again, Sam?" Dean said as he stepped out of the airport and into the foggy, London day.
"I told you, like, five times already, Dean. There's a hunt here. Something big," Sam explained, tired of repeating himself. He led Dean in the direction of the car rental station.
"So you decided that we needed that? With all the shit that we've got to deal with, you picked 'something big' for us?" he replied, letting his brother know exactly how displeased he was with the current situation.
"Come on, man. We have no idea how to stop Lucifer and no idea how to find Lilith. Why can't we stop off for a hunt?" Sam countered, losing patience with Dean.
Dean sighed angrily, making it more of a growl.
"Look, I know you want to be back home, working on everything, but Bobby has it covered. He's doing research on the seals. There's nothing we can do," Sam continued. "And, look! One of those old police boxes! I didn't know they still had those."
Dean rolled his eyes; his brother was such a nerd.
"Bored!" Sherlock yelled to his empty apartment. John was out with Jenny, or Jane, or Helen, or one of his stupid women. Sherlock couldn't be bothered to know which one of them he was going about with. "Mrs. Hudson!"
"What is it, Sherlock?" the landlady asked, coming in, looking a little frightened.
"There's nothing to do!" he said, a hint of desperation in his voice.
"I'm sure there'll be a nice murder to cheer you up," she replied half-heartedly, knowing that her tenant would feel much better with a mystery to solve.
Sherlock was about to give an angry retort when a strange sound came from outside, a sound unlike anything he had ever heard. He sprang to his feet, ready to investigate the new mystery of the alien sound. Outside 221B Baker Street there stood a blue, outdated police box that Sherlock had never seen before in his life. How could that be? He saw everything.
Suddenly, the door opened inward and two people stepped out...
"Where are we going, again, Doctor?" Rose asked, peering over his shoulder at the fairly normal-looking London street.
"Baker Street," he said happily, putting his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and looking around excitedly. "The famous Baker Street."
"As in 'Sherlock Holmes' Baker Street?" Rose asked, smiling widely and looking around.
"How do you know my name?" a man with dark hair and prominent cheekbones said, coming out of 221B.
"Ahh, the man himself! What a coincidence!" the Doctor said, holding out his hand for the man to shake. Sherlock did no such thing.
"Doctor? What do you mean, 'the man himself'? Sherlock Holmes is a fictional character," Rose said, rather confused. "He's just a character in a book."
"Oh, but Rose!" the Doctor said, turning to her in exasperation. "Sherlock Holmes is so much more than that! He's an icon!"
Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when and angel appeared in his backseat and announced calmly, "Pull over, Dean."
"What the Hell, Cas?" he said as he brought the rental to a stop on the side of the road. Driving without the Impala was bad enough, but it was just plain wrong driving on the left side of the road. England was not quite the vacation that he'd had in mind.
"Get out of the car, Dean. Sam." And Castiel was gone. Just like that. Typical angel mojo.
Dean sighed and looked over at Sam. Sam shrugged, and Dean rolled his eyes, but they both got out of the car. They didn't have to search for Castiel long because they could hear from around the corner of the building, "Oh my God! I'm not gay!"
The Winchesters exchanged confused and slightly amused glances as Cas came into view. "Dean, Sam, this is John Watson," he announced. The man was short and wearing an elderly sweater.
"Wait, like the John Watson?" Sam said as John said, "How do you know my name?"
"Yes. Conan Doyle was a prophet of the lord. A stylistic prophet who decided to change the facts to preserve the integrity of his writing, but a prophet nonetheless," Cas explained.
"I'm sorry; what are you talking about?" Watson interrupted, feeling uneasy and uncomfortable.
"Why doesn't he know, then?" Sam asked, seeing a hole in this theory.
"The angels are taking great care to ensure that all goes according to plan," Castiel replied cryptically.
"Umm, I'd like to go home, now," John interrupted as he started to back away. He began to run when he saw the look in the brothers' eyes: chase.
"Sherlock!" came a terrified and exhausted yell from around the corner. John Watson came running around the bend and was surprised to see his flatmate standing with two strangers in front of a new but antique Police Call Box in front of 221B. "What's going on, Sherlock?"
"And John Watson! Today really is quite a day!" the Doctor exclaimed, ecstatic to see the second icon of the day.
"What's going on, John?" asked Sherlock, interested in his flatmate's terror.
"Why does everyone know who I am?" John exclaimed, coming to a halt between Sherlock and the Doctor.
"I'm the Doctor, by the way," the eccentric man said, holding out a hand. "And this is Rose Tyler."
"Pleasure," she said with an excited smile.
The Americans and their angel came to a halt beside the group as well. "Castiel!" the Doctor exclaimed, seeing a familiar face.
The trench-coated angel tilted his head in confusion. "Do I know you?"
"Oh! Right! Sorry; wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff, you know?" the Doctor said with a laugh. Everyone else just stared at him. "Well, I think now that we're all here, we should get going."
"Going where?" Rose asked with enthusiastic curiosity. Dean saw his hopes of having fun on this hunt dwindle away as the look in her eyes shown brightly. No one would doubt Rose Tyler's love for her Doctor.
"Into the box, I presume," Sherlock said, looking it over with his detached wonder. "It's obviously not a real police box."
"Why not?" Sam asked, fooled by whatever facade it was displaying.
"The doors open inward," Sherlock said simply. That was all he'd needed to deduce that it was not what it seemed.
"She's called the TARDIS," the Doctor said happily. He loved his blue box as much as Dean loved his car, and Dean gained a little respect for the limey. "It stands for..."
"Time And Relative Dimension In Space," Rose announced proudly.
"Meaning what, exactly?" John asked, thoroughly confused. Today had started out as a nice date with Sally. What happened?
"Time machine?" Sam guessed, trying to make sense of this new layer of his already supernatural reality. It becomes much harder to believe in the supernatural when one already believes in another form of the otherworldly When one version of reality is discovered underneath the visible fabric of the universe, it seems as though another cannot possibly still lay in wait. Dean encountered this dilemma upon learning of the angels and heaven.
"Yes!" the Doctor exclaimed. "And a space ship! All of time and space is at our fingertips, lady and gentlemen! Come on inside, we have business to discuss."
The Doctor and Rose walked into the TARDIS while the others stared at it hesitantly. There was no way anyone else was going to fit inside. Sam was the first to venture forward and stopped at the threshold of the box, awestruck. The other crowded around to see what he was gaping at, and found themselves dumbfounded as well.
Inside the inward-opening door was a room that could not have possibly fit inside the small, blue box. Sherlock took a moment to inspect the inner and outer walls of the TARDIS. "It's bigger on the inside," John said in amazement.
The Doctor chuckled proudly. "Yes she is."
Sherlock was having a hard time with this impossible fact. He circled the outside of the TARDIS, the inside after, feeling the walls and trying to explain this impossibility. "Well, Sherlock? What do you think?" Rose said, watching the detective in amusement.
"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," he said without hesitation. Rose didn't buy it, though. He was still amazed. She loved the wonder just as much as the Doctor did. "It's bigger on the inside." Five words that never got old.
"Another dimension?" Castiel asked, looking around at the odd decor.
"Right you are," the Doctor replied, running over to the middle console. It was glowing with a bright teal color.
"Where are we going, again?" Dean asked, walking up the stairs.
"We could go anywhere! Anywhere in all of time and space! But we have an appointment," the Doctor said.
"We do?" Rose asked excitedly, taking her place at his side by the controls.
"Yes! Off to America," the Doctor said, pulling on a lever. The TARDIS jerked forward, and Dean gulped down with wide eyes, realizing the true meaning of space ship.
Luckily, the TARDIS was only built for a crew of six because Dean was absolutely no help at all. It looked as if he were about to throw up when the TARDIS finally came to a stop. John walked by him and chuckled, saying, "Chin up, Dean."
Dean groaned angrily and rolled his eyes, watching the army doctor walk out the door after the Doctor and Rose. "Where are we, Doctor?" Rose asked, looking around at the thickly wooded area that the TARDIS had so deftly landed in.
"Oregon," Sherlock answered, looking around.
"Very good!" the Doctor commended. "Yes, Oregon! And?"
"A cemetery," he added, looking behind the TARDIS.
"What the hell are we doing at a cemetery?" Dean asked.
"You're about to learn about your next hunt!"