A/N - I was looking for a good WhoLock crossover, but I couldn't find one that I liked, so... I decided to make my own. This first chapter is from John's blog, written from John's perspective; not all of the chapters will be like that. I hope it does justice to the two shows, Doctor Who and Sherlock, of which I use in this fanfic. Please give me feedback, this is a work in-progress. Thanks, enjoy!

Disclaimer - I do not own any of the BBC characters or their scarfs or bow ties, I only own what is my creation (i.e. Malcolm Colton).

Prologue - The Police Box Perplexer

FROM THE BLOG OF MY ENDEARED FRIEND DOCTOR JOHN H. WATSON:

The Police Box Perplexer

I stood at the windowsill, watching clouds roll over London's skies and fog sweep through it's crowded streets. It was mid-morning, Christmas day. Mrs. Hudson and her bingo friends were downstairs at the kitchen table, playing a round of Go Fish. I could hear them faintly laughing and talking. I heard the honks of taxi horns, telling bikers, on their way to work, to watch out. Sherlock lay with his back to me on his chair, facing the antique fireplace. Whether or not he was awake, I could not tell. However, I did know that something was bothering him. It was another case, one he didn't solve.

Back on November 13 of this year, a client, short, chubby, a smoker probably, rushed into our office. Sherlock groaned, he was sorting his specimens of tobacco, you see, and this is an important, if not relevant task that he does not prefer to be interrupted from. "Bloody hell, what do ya want?!" he yelled to the man, "Did your wife run off with her employer, the tall guy, again?!" The poor man stuttered, "W-w-what?" I slammed my head into the table and gritted my teeth, "He clearly doesn't know, Sherlock... If only you were a bit more observant of the important stuff!"

I turn back the man and say with a fake smile, "Oh, just ignore him... Now let's get down to what's on hand; What is your name?"

"M-M-Malcolm Colton, sir."

"And why did you come here?"

He replied in a faint voice, "L-l-last Thursday, I-I was walking home from work o-o-on Livingston Street. Th-th-then it appeared..."

"What appeared?" I responded, slightly curious.

He bit his bottom lip, "Th-th-the Police Box." And he fainted. Sherlock looked annoyed, "Don't think I'm wasting my smelling salts on this nutter," he said, and continued with his tobacco sorting. After Malcolm finally rose, he started to tell me (Sherlock ignored us) about the Police Box, "It was blue," he said, "I'd say it was from the 1950's-"

Sherlock interrupted him from across the room and said, nonchalantly, "Of course you would, you're an ignorant sod." The poor man started to cry. Sherlock continued, "Those Police Boxes are from the 1960's, I'd say around 1963." I give him a withering glare, "You are entirely helpless! Do you want this case or not?!"

He replied, "Well, not if this inconsiderate mess, Mr. Colton, is going to sob all over my furniture!"

We never did find out about the Police Box. The man left before he could finish his story. Sherlock said the man was probably drunk, and I would agree, but I feel like it is still bothering him... not knowing for sure that answer is the right one. We did go to the street where Malcolm saw it appear, there was no sign of a Police Box. Sometimes it's nice to not know, sometimes.

THE INCONCLUSIVE END

A/N - I hope you liked it! Tell me what you think. I'm gonna try to get the next chapter out in a few weeks. If you have any ideas, your welcome to share them with me (I do have an idea for how the story will work out, but it can change). Thanks!