"Where do you want to start?" asked the Doctor eagerly, prancing around the TARDIS like a deer. "Again."
Rory and Amy shrugged. In truth, they had no ideas. They just wanted to be together and with the Doctor so they could travel wherever they pleased. The couple snuggled closer together.
"Come on. Pick somewhere. But make it good. This is your honeymoon, remember?"
The newly-weds stared at each other in surprise. It was their honeymoon. Because they ran away after the wedding, they hadn't had time to go anywhere.
"How about somewhere romantic? Paris? Oh, wait. Scratch that. Can't go there anytime after 1727. Little misunderstanding with The King. I was his wife's imaginary friend. Didn't end well. Venice?"
Rory shook his head.
"Do you remember what happened last time? With the vampires?"
"Oh yeah. Got any suggestions?"
"How about London?" the red-headed girl asked, sidling up to her imaginary friend, who was whacking the controls of the time-machine with a bottle of Pepsi Free from the set of Back to the Future. Amy causally took it out of his hands and replaced it with a bottle of Sprite. The Pepsi was a collectable anyway. Someone might pay a pretty penny for it.
"Brilliant. What year?"
"What about 2010?"
"Boring."
"That's where I was going to take Amy anyway. She wanted to see the Sherlock Holmes museum."
"Yeah. I wanted a deerstalker."
"You like Sherlock Holmes? Oh good. I'll keep that in mind for another trip. Me and Arthur Conan Doyle are like that." The Doctor crossed his fingers. "Taught him everything he knew. Apparently. Haven't done that one yet. And we here." He grabbed a long brown over coat and threw it on; it was mid- February and the day was cold. Amy wrinkled her nose in disgust at it. Sure, it was old and patched and worn but it reminded him of good times with previous companions. Rose, Donna, Martha. Flamboyantly, the Doctor opened the door to the TARDIS. But there was no museum. No Scotland Yard officer outside the door. No colourful sign with a famous cartoon on it. Even the brass statue down the road was gone. The trio was faced with a black door to a flat labelled 221b, a restaurant called Speedy's and tourists coming from every direction.
"Where is everything?" Rory asked, confused.
"Doctor, you know when we opened the crack in my bedroom? You brought Rory and my parents back. By accident, could you have brought anyone else back? Like…" Amy gestured to the door. "Someone who didn't exist."
The Doctor frowned. "It's possible. But there's only one way to find out." He proceeded to ring the bell. Several seconds later, a cheery old woman dressed in purple and red lipstick answered the door. Upon not recognising the bewildered people on the door-step, she shouted up the stairs.
"Sherlock! There are some people on the doorstep for you. At least, I think there for you. There not for me." She turned back to the people on the doorstep. "Just so you know we don't want to by any feather dusters. Though some people could use one occasionally!" She shot the last remark over her shoulder. The sound of someone falling on the floor broke the one-sided conversation. A shout was heard by the time travellers.
"Sherlock Benedict Holmes! What did I tell you about sliding down the banisters? Thanks, Mrs Hudson." A man with fluffy blond hair and brown eyes appeared in the doorway. "Sorry, he's just picking himself of the floor. Kids, eh." The man smiled kindly at them. "Can I help you?"
"We're here to see a mister Sherlock Holmes."
"I'm here." A small voice came from behind the man. A skinny pale teen with grey eyes and inky black curls that fell around his shoulders stared at the trio. "Sorry Uncle John. What do you want?"
"Sherlock!" John cried.
"Sorry, but aren't you a little young to be a detective?" asked the Doctor incredulously.
"One, I'm 14 so no. Two, I am a detective." John stared at the boy, one eyebrow raised. "In training." the teen added. "Three, if it's a professional detective you want, it's my dad your after. Four, he's not here. He's at Scotland Yard."
"No I'm not." A voice came from behind the time travellers this time. There stood a man who looked exactly like his son except he was taller and his inky curls were shorter. The man cast a glance over the three strangers on his doorstep. He looked incredibly surprised when he saw the doctor.
"You!" he whispered. "You saved my life."
"Excuse me?"
"You saved my life."
"When?" Amy cried.
"When I was his age." Sherlock pointed to his son.
The doctor stared at the detective, then at his companions then back at the detective.
"Nope. Sorry mate. Don't remember that. Maybe it's not happened for us yet."
Both Sherlocks and John stared at the odd people on the doorstep.
"I think you better come inside."