Hey everybody :) This thing is going to be five chapters, and I'm currently writing the sequel to it. It's SuperWhoLock as you can tell, which I'm currently obsessed with.

I hope you enjoy, and I'll be updating this every day. :) Love, WG2


Clara hummed, stirring the ingredients in her bowl. Dancing around the kitchen slowly, she grabbed a bit of water, poured it in, bit of flour, bit of applesauce, bit of apples, bit of apple pie filling. She'd just set the bowl down on the counter and gotten out the store-bought pie crust (she never could figure out how to make a good pie crust), when there was a knock on the door.

After wiping her messy hands on the dishtowel, she went down the hallway to the front door and swung it open to reveal two men standing there.

"Hello, Miss Oswald." The taller man spoke, an American accent sounding. She raised her left eyebrow slightly and looked at the FBI badges the men held out before glancing back up at the men.

"Hello?" she replied, unsure why she did so. Why were the FBI in England at her door?

Oh.

There was only one explanation, and her suspicions were confirmed as the taller one spoke.

"We're looking for a man called the Doctor."

She wasn't just going to give him to them. Not if they were after him for some reason. Maybe they just wanted to talk to him, but Clara wasn't going to take the chance.

"Doctor who?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and feigning innocence. The shorter man rolled his eyes and looked extremely frustrated.

"Ma'am, if you could just tell us where the Doctor is?"

Narrowing her eyes at the taller man, she tried to get as much info as she could.

The guy's hair was a bit longer than normal, but didn't look awkward like the look did on most men. He looked like a moose almost. He was holding himself like he'd seen tragedy, lost family, but was strong enough to smile every day.

For some reason, that made her trust him.

Moving her gaze from the taller guy to the shorter one, she raised her eyebrows a bit at what she got.

Frustration, disappointment, sadness, defeat, every negative emotion she could name was clear in this man's eyes. He was currently glaring back at her, and she sighed.

"You two aren't FBI, so before I tell you anything about the Doctor, you tell me who you are." Clara finally spoke. The men exchanged glances.

"How did you know?" said the taller one.

"One, the FBI would have no reason to be in England. Two, that long hair is not even acceptable in the Federal Government." Clara pointed to the taller one's longer hair. "Three, America doesn't know about the Doctor. Only UNIT, Torchwood, and the Queen know about him here. Except for me and a couple of others." Clara replied.

"Well, tell us where the Doctor is and we'll tell you who you are."

Clara smirked.

"The Doctor's quite the traveler, boys. There's no telling where he is. Of course, I can call him and tell him to get his butt here, but only I know his number, and I'm not calling him until you two tell me who you are."

"Fine." the taller one sighed, and the shorter one shot the taller one a glare. The taller one shrugged, and they stepped into the house when Clara opened the door wider so they could get in.


"So you and your brother just go around hunting monsters?" Clara asked, eyes wide and impressed. Dean shot a glance at Sam before turning back to Clara and nodding as he spoke.

"Yeah, that's what we do."

"You protect people from all the nightmares they never want to believe, for nothing in return." Clara grinned and folded her arms. "That's incredibly brave."

"Don't know about brave." Dean sighed.

"So, we've told you about us now…?" Sam raised an eyebrow, and Clara nodded.

"Hold on a second, boys." she whipped out her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts, about to click call on the Doctor's number when the communicator buzzed in the hallway.

Clara furrowed her brows.

"I'll be right back." at the disgruntled look on Dean's face, she sighed. "Don't worry, I'm still calling him for you guys. This could just be important, though. I'm expecting a package to arrive today."

Turning on the video monitor in the hallway, she raised her eyebrows at the face looking back at her.

"Hi, um…"

Clara's eyes widened, then narrowed.

"Aren't you that detective who jumped off a building?" she heard the Winchesters scramble to their feet and saw them come into her peripheral vision as she continued to speak. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm trying to find the Doctor."

Clara exchanged a glance with the nearest Winchester-Sam-and looked back to the video monitor.

"…why?" she questioned.

"That's a matter for the Doctor, not for his companion."

Gritting her teeth, she turned the monitor off and swung the door open, furious. The Winchesters came up behind her, probably curious about this detective, who was towering over Clara, eyes like blue ice and hair softly curled.

Clara felt intimidated, and backed up a little.

"Call the Doctor, would you? I'm getting impatient." Sherlock sighed, and Clara slipped behind the tall boys behind her. Off the top of her head, on a whim, she trusted the Winchesters more than the man who had been convicted and cleared of being a murderer.

Sam and Dean kept Sherlock standing outside by standing in the detective's way. Clara took out her phone and dialed the Doctor, putting the phone to her ear.

She relaxed as she heard the familiar click that told her he had just picked up the phone.

"Hello, the TARDIS." the Doctor's cheerful voice made her warm up inside. She smiled.

"Doctor? It's me."

"Oh, hello Clara! It's not Wednesday, is it? Have I missed another Wednesday?"

"No, you haven't, it's Monday. Kids are in school and I'm up to my knees preparing for Angie's party on Friday. I was in the middle of making pie-" Dean perked up and she hid a grin, "-when some people came to the door. I've got three people here all clambering for a chance to meet you. Can you come on over?"

"Of course. Which date are you at now?"

"September 22 2013." Clara replied.

"Be right there."

"Thanks, Doctor." she hung up and heard the familiar sound of the TARDIS. Except it seemed to be coming from the kitchen. She face-palmed when the Doctor ran into the hallway, purple suit coat off, his vest and sleeves covered in grime and oil. He had goggles on his head, and he looked at Clara with such devotion and adoration that it was sickly sweet. She smiled at him, then motioned to the three men who were staring at him like he was an alien.

Well, he is, but they didn't know that.

"Are you a friggin Angel, dude?" Dean asked.

Clara's eyebrows went up high and she stared at the Winchesters. The Doctor looked confused, and Sherlock rolled his eyes. Sam shot a look at Dean that said shut up, and Dean was still staring at the Doctor.

"No, I'm a TimeLord. There's no such thing as angels."

Sam coughed, and Dean's face went red.

Sherlock moved the Winchesters aside and strolled up to the Doctor.

"I need your help, Doctor."

"No way, Holmes. We were here first." Dean growled, and went over to stare down Sherlock, who just looked Dean over like he was a piece of garbage. That made Dean furious, and Clara kept a hand on her phone, ready to call the police if the two of them came to blows.

She reconsidered.

The police might find it weird for a police call box to be in her kitchen.

"Well, what's your problem?" the Doctor asked Dean, who shot a triumphant glance at Sherlock, who was furious.

"So last week, Sam and me, we were in the middle of a graveyard. Don't ask why. But anyways, statues moved when we weren't looking. We got out of there fast and researched it. Led us to a woman named Sally Sparrow, who told us to look for a man called the Doctor. A bit more research and we found Clara Oswald's house, where the Doctor has been seen more than fifty times this past year. Do you have any idea what the statues are?"

"That's my problem." Sherlock spoke, and everyone looked at the detective, who had lost his anger and now looked deeply interested. "I've been noticing statues that move in cemeteries."

Clara looked at the Doctor, who looked so lost and sad and angry now. She went over to him and took his hand in hers, looking up at him. He gazed back down into her eyes, seemingly taking comfort from her presence.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. His eyes flared up with such a sudden anger and pain that it almost made her flinch. Of course, he wasn't angry with her, that much was clear, but he'd must have remembered something.

It dawned on her, memories slowly fading back from one of her echoes.

"My name is Amelia Williams."

"Everyone calls me the old widow."

"I won't."

"Very well. My name is Clara Oswald. You sound Scottish."

"I am."

"What brought you here, to New York?"

The red-headed woman was silent, and she looked at the sky for a while, sadness lingering in the woman's eyes.

"An old battle of sorts." the woman whispered.

Clara smiled, taking Amelia's young, slender hand within her elderly, wrinkled own. She sensed a certain aura around this woman. Clara had enough dreams to know what it was from, dreams she knew were memories, whether hers or another's.

"Was the Doctor involved?"

"You know the Doctor?"

"I know him from somewhere, yes." Clara nodded, letting out a chuckle.

Amelia smiled.

"Have you heard of the weeping angels, Ms Oswald?"

Clara blinked away the memories, and tightened her hold on the Doctor's hand.

"I've run into those before." the alien next to her spoke, keeping his voice level. "They're called Weeping Angels."

Dean's eyebrows went high, and Sam furrowed his brows. Sherlock looked interested.

"Vicious creatures. They can't move when they're being seen, but as soon as someone's looking away, they can move at the speed of sound."

"Sounds impossible." Sherlock scoffed.

"There's so much impossible in this world, and in the universe, Sherlock." the Doctor replied.

"Yeah, way more than you've ever dreamed of, kiddo." Dean added, giving Sherlock a who's more intelligent now look.

"Do you think we should call Cas?" Clara barely heard the whisper, but glanced out of the side of her eye and found Sam whispering to Dean, who looked thoughtful, then nodded.

"Listen, I'm going to go call a friend of mine. He might be able to help here." Dean remarked, breaking the silence. The Doctor gave him a look.

"You're american, aren't you? Who are you? Dean and Sam who?"

Clara let Dean go off to the end of the hallway while she answered.

"Sam and Dean Winchester. They're brothers, who hunt monsters who kill and then kill the murderer monsters."

Clara turned and looked at Dean, who was talking quietly, eyes closed. His hands were in his pockets, no phone at his ear. She glanced at Sam, who looked a bit bored, then at Sherlock, who was staring at Dean with ridicule obvious in his icy eyes.

Everyone but Sam and Dean gasped and jumped back when the sound of wings fluttering filled the room and a trench-coated man stood next to Dean.

"Hello, Dean."

Clara cocked an eyebrow.

Dean was grinning sheepishly at the man who'd appeared so suddenly. The man was staring back at Dean…intensely. Clara raised her eyebrow even higher, fighting back the smirk that was struggling to show on her face. The Doctor, who had accidentally ripped his hand out of hers when he'd jumped back, shook himself out of silence.

"How did he get here?"

"I flew." the man replied.

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked, his voice raised and angry. The man glanced at Sherlock curiously.

"Castiel."

"Cas, these idiots don't believe in your kind so go a bit…easy on them." Dean said, coming up next to this 'Castiel' and pointing at everybody.

"You did not believe either."

"You didn't exactly go easy on me, buddy. You broke the doors open with your mojo and walked straight through all the sigils and devil's traps and didn't die when you were stabbed and stuff." Dean replied to the strange man, his voice quiet.

"Are you a TimeLord?" Clara asked the man warily.

"No, I'm an Angel of the Lord." Castiel replied.

Silence.

Absolute, utter, friggin silence.

Sherlock's eyes were wide and showed all emotions, anger being prominent. The Doctor stood there, still unbelieving. Dean face-palmed. Sam sighed, and Clara frowned, actually willing to accept this.

"Okay." she shrugged. Dean gave her a surprised look, so did Sam and the Doctor. Sherlock was still struggling with reality.

"What?" the Doctor croaked. Clara looked at him.

"What? Aliens are real. You've taken me to places I'd never would have believed in. Monsters are real. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, demons and a million other things are real. Why can't Angels and the Lord be real?"

The Doctor looked horrified.

"It can't be real, Clara. It's impossible. Hell, Satan, God, Angels, Demons, it all goes against the laws of physics and sciency wiencey things. Sherlock agrees with me." the Doctor pointed to Sherlock, who nodded, still speechless.

"It is real." Castiel replied. The lights flickered and light bulbs exploded, sending shards and sparks everywhere. Clara shrieked at the suddenness of it, and everyone else tried to duck for cover as well. They all looked up when light came out of nowhere. Dean and Sam were cowering near the wall, but weren't freaking out. Clara stared as the shadows of wings appeared, Castiel's eyes lit up a bit. It tore a whole new realm of fear in her heart, and as soon as his wings had appeared, the light went out from inside him and his wings disappeared.

It was still daylight, so light was streaming through all windows and doors, lighting up the house.

"Woah." was all Clara could whisper.

A phone rang, and Sherlock flipped open his phone, answering it. Clara struggled to stand up, and took the Doctor's offered hand gratefully.

"John? Is that you?"

Clara groaned. Her ankle must've twisted when she jumped and fell down, trying to get away from the sparks and shards.

"Eggs? Milk? Of course I didn't get them."

Castiel must have noticed her pain, he came over and knelt down. She furrowed her brows, confused. She held onto the Doctor's arm and shoulder for stability as Castiel lowered two fingers toward her ankle.

"Stop shouting at me. It's not my fault if Mary wants to spend time with me."

Castiel's fingers made contact with her ankle, and Clara felt a slight tightness in her ankle's muscles before all pain was gone. Castiel stood up and he stepped back over to Dean. She stared at the angel. The Doctor was silent. She looked at the Doctor.

"Why would we need to bond? Mary and I already make fun of you."

The Doctor almost looked as if he was about to faint. He still looked a bit disbelieving, but there was no way he could deny that Castiel had major power, or had wings, or the fact that he'd just healed her ankle with a touch. She let go of the Doctor, testing her ankle.

"I can't come, anyway."

Her ankle was fine.

"Stop shouting at me, John! I'm on a case."

Clara glanced at Sherlock, who looked frazzled and overwhelmed.

"A very interesting case. With statues and impossible things."

Everyone looked at Sherlock.

"I know I promised. We'll just do it sometime next month."

Clara furrowed her brows. Who was Sherlock talking to?

"It's not my fault if Mary has the baby next month, is it? It's yours, John."

A sharp intake of breath forced Clara to glance at Dean, who was looking shocked and troubled at the same time.

"Chiswick, London." Clara raised her eyebrows when Sherlock rattled off the house's address. "Why?"

Clara glanced back over to the Winchesters and the angel, to find Cas and Dean right next to each other, with no space between them. Their shoulders were touching, heads close together, and Sam was about two feet away from them, giving them a knowing and disgusted look.

Clara hid her smile.

"You don't need to come….over." Sherlock sighed, holding the phone away from his ear. He turned back to face everyone. "A colleague of mine is on his way over."

"A colleague?" the Doctor asked. "That was friendship at least."

Silence ensued.