Hellooo. Yes, I know. A late Christmas fic. But, after seeing the Doctor Who special, I had to do this. This fic is occurring as though Reichenbach never happened.
Christmas Day, 2012
Sherlock was sprawled out on the sofa, his head resting on John's lap. The two had decided to watch the Doctor Who episode that was airing that day, at John's insistence. John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair absently, watching as the Silurian, Vastra, questioned the governess, Clara. John, as Sherlock observed, seemed to be enthralled by the show. Sherlock himself was thoroughly bored.
The consulting detective was starting to fall asleep, when one of the servants on the show, said, "Sir, it's Sherlock Holmes!" Sherlock's eyes snapped open, and he shot up into a sitting position. His feet dropped to the floor, as John's jaw dropped.
"What the hell! John, did you hear that!" Sherlock yelled, as John started laughing. The detective jabbed his finger at the tv set. "John, they made me a FICTIONAL CHARACTER. I am not fictional! I am clearly not fictional. I'm not fictional, am I, John?"
John's face was turning red, from laughing so hard. "I dunno, Sherlock. Maybe you're fictional in the Doctor's universe. How would we know?"
Sherlock groaned, as the Doctor leapt into the room, wearing a deerstalker hat. "C'mon, everyone knows I hate that hat with all my passion… why do they insist!" As the Doctor began his 'deductions,' Sherlock scoffed. "Clearly he doesn't know how to observe, obviously the servant has a dog... John. Who wrote this? He must be one of Moriarty's men."
John snorted. "It was written by Steven Moffat. He does this for a living, he messes around with people. He's harmless. And he most definitely does not work for Moriarty."
"I think he does."
"Sherlock, if anything, Moriarty works for Moffat! People claim that Moffat is heartless,"
"I have a heart… it's in a jar on my desk!"
"Not that kind of heartless," John said, rolling his eyes. "Anyways, it's just a TV show; nothing to be worried about."
"I'm not fictional," Sherlock said firmly, laying his head back in John's lap, his eyes on the TV.