The Ultimate Fanfic

The black '67 Chevy Impala drove past an old gas station with three men inside. One was tall, with shaggy brown hair that fell to his shoulders, neatly dressed but casual. Next to him in the driver's seat sat a shorter man, very muscular with short hair and bright green eyes and a serious look on his unshaven face, now covered with stubble. In the back was a man wearing a trench coat with a blue tie on backwards, his back stiff and wide puppy-dog eyes that stared out at the pavement before them.

"I just don't understand, Dean. Why…" The man in the back spoke, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his knuckles. The shaggy haired man smirked, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous conversation that was taking place.

"Look, Cas. I know this may sound strange to you and all of the other fallen angels in the world, but guys don't wear makeup. We just don't feel the need to. Some girls think it makes them look better and pile it on, but some girls don't wear any. I think it's weird. Sam!"

The tall man in the shotgun seat turned to look at his older brother. "Yeah?"

"How far are we to San Antonio?"

"Just a couple of miles. It's really weird though, and I'm thinking it must be some sort of ghost. But according to what I've read, he wears modern clothing, but there are pictures of him dating back to the Titanic. He always has a blue telephone box – well, it's called a police box, and it's from 1960s Britain – and a screwdriver. I don't get it. None of this makes any sense or is like anything we've seen before. Do you think he's an angel?"

"I don't believe so. I've never heard of him before. You said he goes by the name The Doctor. Doctor Who exactly? There are no others in his occupation who do not use their name." Castiel spoke with a low voice, deep in thought.

"Let's just get checked into a motel and we'll get this figured out," Dean said as he drove down the highway. They'd never faced a case like it before, and it had taken days of rummaging through their father's journal, which held no information on the man, and the internet, which was filled with urban legends, some true but most of them completely false, to find out anything. With the Doctor, it was extremely difficult to get any relevant information since they weren't exactly sure what they were looking for.

Meanwhile, Sam rummaged through the pictures they had managed to find. A gangly man with long limbs and a boyish face that always had a huge smile filled the frames. He was young, around his mid-twenties, but the photos never aged. But something in his eyes seemed old, almost ancient despite the young face. Behind that smile there was a hint of sadness, like he was trying to hide something painful that he'd carried with him all through the years.

They pulled into the "Cozy Scorpion" parking lot and parked before climbing out of the Impala. Dean popped open the trunk and pulled out their bags, tossing Sam and Cas theirs before slinging his own over his shoulder and closing the trunk. The motel was like they were used to – crappy, dirty, and inexpensive. They checked out two rooms, one for Sam and Dean, and one for Castiel. They began to unpack as Sam turned on the television, turning it on to the local news channel as Cas entered the room. He did not have much to unpack, considering he had only been human for a few months. He only had a few sets of clothing that they had bought after he had found the two brothers

Sam opened up his laptop and continued his research on the Doctor while Dean began to set up the room. He taped various pictures, newspaper articles, and printouts from websites on the wall, as Cas stared at them, unsure exactly what they were dealing with. "Perhaps he is not our enemy like we might believe him to be. He appears at various sites where tragedy strikes, but there is no evidence that he is the cause. He could be along the lines of a Banshee or a Reaper, more of a messenger than the real killer."

"Yeah, well we need to find him and talk to him to find out for sure. He always shows up during this time of the year, so we just need to keep an eye out and wait." Dean sat back, gazing at the wall, thinking about the possibilities. "And if we do need to kill him, how do we do it? Silver? Holy water? Salt?" He sighed, moving to the table where Sam sat, watching the screen as they dug up what information they could.

"Where are we? Is this America?" Clara stepped out of the TARDIS and looked around, a large smile on her face. She wore jeans, brown leather boots, and a plaid blouse that was modest but formfitting at the same time. The Doctor shut the door and placed his hands on her shoulders, bouncing on his heels excitedly.

"This is San Antonio. Downtown. Home of the Alamo and the Spurs. It's a tradition of mine. Every five years I come and visit for the Rodeo. These Texans are absolutely crazy. They climb on bulls' backs and hold on while the animal tries to throw them off. And then there's the music, country. I love country music. And the hats!" He placed one on his head, pointing at it and grinning like a little boy as Clara rolled her eyes. "I wear a cowboy hat now. Cowboy hats are cool." He put his thumbs in his front pockets and looked around, watching the tourists wandering through the streets.

Clara sighed, hoping this would be fun. She'd expected him to bring her to an alien world filled with mysteries and strange things. Instead, he'd taken her to Texas, going to see cowboys riding horseback. "Come on Clara! Join the fun!" The Doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the Riverwalk, filled with shops, restaurants, and small river-barges. Despite her doubts about this city, she couldn't help but smile. The Doctor's constant enthusiasm and excitement was contagious, and she began running with him, laughing.

They stepped inside a large building filled with shops and bright colors. "This is the Mexican Market Clara. All of these shops sell goods imported from Mexico," he smiled before handing her a credit card. "If you see anything you want, feel free to get it. The great thing about being a time lord: unlimited credit. Don't worry about expenses because it won't be a problem. This technology pays for it without any cost to me."

The colors and sounds filled their ears as they walked from shop to shop. It was almost overwhelming, like visiting an alien planet. This was what the Doctor loved about Earth. There were so many unique cultures and places in this world. Even in one country, he could discover thousands of things he'd never known. Such things made it impossible to become bored with his travels, even after a thousand years. But most of all, sharing these wonders and seeing the delight on Clara's face made it all the more special. (toilet bowl museum)

"You humans never cease to amaze me. Everywhere I go, I see places with better technology and what many consider a more refined culture. But look at this. This is humanity, and it's beautiful and imperfect and special." He kissed her forehead, pointing out the different objects in different stores. Beautiful blouses lined the walls, embroidered and bright. It was unlike anything Clara had seen in London.

Overhearing their accents, one of the shopkeepers approached, a wide smile on his face. "Are the two of you from England?"

"Yes; London actually. We just arrived today. This is Clara's first visit."

The old man gave a friendly smile and took Clara's hand in his, surprising her with the friendly touch, intimate for a stranger. "Well, I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time here. We love visitors, and there's always something happening in this city. You will be going to the rodeo, correct? It's very exciting, and it's a very popular event."

"We'll be going to bull riding tomorrow actually," Clara said, smiling at the man.

"Well the two of you have a wonderful visit." The shopkeeper squeezed Clara's hand before returning to the register, sitting in his chair and returning his attention the Telemundo soap opera on the small television. The Doctor grinned at Clara, putting his arm around her neck before leaving the shop.

"That's what I love about this city. Everyone's friendly to each other, including to visitors. You don't see that in London or New York a lot, but here it's very common. These people smile at you in the street and have conversations with you while you're in line at the store. There's no place like it, not in the whole universe. That's one of the things I want you to remember Clara. No matter where we go, every place is different and important, and the people are too. You're important Clara, more important than you realize."

The Doctor's face suddenly became very serious before the grin returned and he led her to another shop. "We need to get you a cowgirl hat. You're not leaving here without one." Clara smiled and punched the Doctor in the arm.

"Maybe we should get you some cowboy boots to go with your ensemble," she pointed at the cowboy hat, suspenders, plaid shirt, and jeans he wore. The Doctor laughed and grabbed her hand again, gripping it tight as they walked through the crowded market. (Geronimo at Ft. Sam Houston)

"John, I don't want a vacation. I'm bored. I want to go look at dead bodies and help Lestrade and his idiotic police officers get their cases solved. No, not help. I want to do it myself. Just the two of us, figuring things out like we always do."

As Watson pulled the bags off the baggage claim, he groaned and turned to his best friend, irritating and fascinating, and often so annoying he felt like punching the arrogant man in the face. "Three years, Sherlock. Three years you let me think you were dead. Do you realize what that did to me? If it hadn't been for Mrs. Hudson, I would be in the ground right now. I didn't want to live. You're the only friend I have and you left me."

Sherlock felt a pain in his chest as he listened to John's words. There had been so many days where he'd wanted to return, to hug him and beg for forgiveness, tell him it would be all right. However, it was too dangerous and he… he was afraid. Afraid of what John would say when he came back. He didn't care about people. He didn't like them at all. He was a sociopath for God's sake! However, when it came to his friends – Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, Irene, and most of all, John – there was nothing he wouldn't do. Rare displays of emotion were only shown to them.

"John, I'm so sorry. Whatever you need, I'll do it. I swore I'd do everything possible to make things right again, and I will. Let's go visit this place, however simple it might be." He got several glares from the people around him as John hailed a taxi.

"I just wanted to go somewhere different. Escape London. And who knows? Maybe the police will need your help here, too."

"Of course they'll need my help. Everyone always needs my help. The question is whether the case they have is challenging enough for my abilities. Just because they can't figure it out doesn't mean it's very difficult or confusing. They just can't see what's right in front of them, because like most people in the world, policemen are idiots who have no idea what they're doing."

John smiled apologetically at some of the angry looks they were receiving, guiding Sherlock towards the doors so that they could call a taxi. Sherlock took two of the bags from John, looking at his leg concerned. "Is your leg alright? I've noticed you've been limping again. Did you hurt it or trip?" He moved closer to give his friend any support he might need.

"It's just been acting up again, that's all." John gave a small smile, removing a cane from one of the bags and using it for support as they walked. "It's a little stiff, but I think walking around will help get it back to normal." Sherlock looked skeptical, but he simply nodded and hailed a taxi, assisting Watson as he climbed inside, his eyes on the leg. "Sherlock, I told you I'm alright."

John sighed, but he was happy his friend had returned, even if he had left for three years, leaving him unaware that his flat mate and best friend was alive. Things had changed, and at times their conversations had become awkward and difficult, with long pauses where neither knew what to say. But both of them were healing, however slowly. Both knew repairing the damage Moriarty had caused would take time and effort.

"The Hyatt hotel please," Sherlock said to the driver once the luggage was inside and they were both sitting comfortably in the back seat. "I did buy us tickets to the rodeo, although I find the whole idea of it ridiculous. I thought you might enjoy it though. Who would be foolish enough to ride a bull for the sake of entertainment?

"I don't know… What crazy person goes and solves serial murders for fun?" John smiled at Sherlock, who laughed and sat back in his seat. Their relationship was returning to normal, but they knew there would be problems along the way. But John's playful bantering was a sign of forgiveness, and there was nothing Sherlock wanted more.

"Do you mind, Connor? I'm trying to get this equipment out?" Abby, a petite blonde girl with short hair looked up as she pulled out a laptop and some strange looking equipment. Turning around, Connor swallowed and ran to help her. He carefully set the equipment on the bed and smiled at Abby. He wore a scarf, leather jacket, and fingerless gloves with a hat. His untidy black hair fell to his chin, and a boyish smile was the highlight of his face.

"Sorry Abby. Just a little distracted."

"You're always distracted." She rolled her eyes and kissed him on the lips gently before going to the mirror. She adjusted her yellow t-shirt and white jeans before putting on a lightly colored denim jacket. Connor couldn't help but stare at her. How did he ever manage to have a girlfriend as smart and gorgeous as her? She turned around and laughed when she saw him. "A little distracted again?" She hugged his neck and kissed him again.

"They think there's an anomaly that's going to open up in a couple of days here. In the meantime, we can hang out at the Rodeo. I got tickets for the bull riding." She pulled them from her back pocket and smiled as Connor grew even more excited. "Pace yourself. We may be here for a while. Tomorrow we're supposed to meet Dr. Banner at the airport. He's an expert on Gamma radiation and may be able to help us to better predict where anomalies will show up."

"Hold on. Dr. Banner? That's… oh my God! You saw what happened in New York. He's… That's the Hulk!"

"Yes, and I don't believe he'll appreciate you referring to him as such. He's caused a lot of destruction as the Hulk, and I don't think he wants to relive those memories with you. He's killed people, and he blames himself for it even when it's not truly his fault. So don't mention it to him unless it relates to what we're talking about."

"Don't you think the government could have gotten us into a better hotel? I mean we do save the country on a regular basis. The least they could do is get us a comfy room or pay us a higher salary. The Cozy Scorpion just sounds sketchy anyways; you can tell by the name it's not going to be pleasant or anything."

Abby rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his lips before turning to their suitcases and moving the clothing into drawers, organizing it as Connor watched, who knew his help would probably do more to disrupt the process and turn the room into a mess than actually assist Abby. Instead, he began setting up the equipment on the table, turning on the anomaly detector along with the laptop he always carried with him.

"Do you really think we'll be able to figure out when the anomaly leads to using gamma radiation? It would be ideal so we have some idea of what could come through and send it back."

Abby shrugged, looking at Connor. "I don't know. I guess we'll have to ask Dr. Banner when we pick him up at the airport."

"Excuse me, but why are we going on vacation where there are no trains? I want to go on a train ride." The whole group rolled their eyes at Sheldon, annoyed by his constant questioning. "Now, I think we could catch a flight back and make it to the Wisconsin Train show before it ends."

"Enough Sheldon. We're going to the Rodeo and that's final." Leonard sighed and looked at Penny, who just smiled and looked out the window of the car. Seeing he would get no help, he turned back to Sheldon, who was refusing to give up this argument. "Look, next year we'll go to the train show. I promise that. But we voted for the rodeo and so that's what we're going to do."

"Sheldon, I think they might have a train museum here that you could go to. Would that be alright?"

"It's not the same Penny. Train shows are much bigger deals and are a lot more fun. The museum you're talking about is probably targeted towards children, not geniuses like myself. A train show has experts on trains with whom I could actually have a semi-decent conversation with. However, you insist on bringing me to the land of hillbillies who think that shooting a gun and riding a bull makes you a respectable human being. It's primitive and I should know! I grew up in Texas remember? No one here could ever appreciate my genius."

Amy touched his arm gently, giving him a smile. "Sheldon, don't worry. We can always make fun of everyone else's idiocy and laugh when they don't understand what we're talking about." Raj and Howard exchanged glances in the backseat, rolling their eyes, wondering how these two people could be in the same room without someone exploding from annoyance.

"It's too bad Bernadette couldn't come," Leonard said, trying to change the subject as he glanced in the rear-view mirror at Howard. Anything would be better than listening to Sheldon and Amy discussing how much smarter and better they were than anyone else in the universe. Why he'd brought the two of them was difficult to explain to even himself. No matter how annoying Sheldon became, he was like a brother and Leonard's best friend, closer than Howard, Raj, or even Penny.

"She's spending a weekend with some girls from college in Las Vegas. I wanted to come along, but they said no boys allowed. But I bet we'll have fun here, right guys?"

Sheldon sighed loudly, staring out the window, hoping this would inform everyone of how much he did not want to be here until Amy kicked him in the ankle, giving him a look as she tried to remind him not to be rude. Leonard turned in his seat to say something before Penny screamed, pointing at the road in front of them, where a bright blue light had appeared, the car headed straight into it. Leonard moved to slam the brakes but accidentally stomped on the accelerator instead, sending the car straight into the portal.

Everyone shut there eyes as the car flew through before it shut behind them silently. Everyone had managed to look ahead in time to see it, and as the car spun to a stop, they all stared straight ahead, trying to figure out what had happened. "What the hell was that?" Leonard said, looking around them, the scenery unchanged. Everyone appeared shaken but unhurt, and he began driving again. The world looked the same, but little did they know, it was very, very different.

"Dr. Banner! Can you give me any updates on the anomaly situation we've been collaborating on with London?" Nick Fury opened the door to laboratory where a man in his late thirties was hard at work. Seeing the scholarly looking man in a tweed jacket and khakis, the idea that this man could turn into a huge green monster in seconds would seem ridiculous. But ever since New York, Dr. Banner had yet to have an incident and was working on a serum to help control his mind if and when the monster broke free.

At the moment, Banner was looking through files of information sent from the London Office in collaboration with S.H.I.E.L.D., including graphs showing the amounts of Gamma radiation in areas where anomalies have appeared. An expert in the field, Banner was an excellent resource and would be valuable in their studies of predicting and solving the problem for good. The London Office was growing afraid of things that might slip through, more dangerous than dinosaurs. Infectious diseases humans had not worried about for millennia and had no immunity built up for could have a dangerous effect on the world.

Banner shook his head as he turned in his chair to face Fury. "Nothing new as of late. I've been looking over these charts for the past few weeks. I don't know what else I can tell you about them, other than the radiation is unlike what I've seen before. We should probably check anyone who has traveled through them to see the effects. Gamma radiation is not as harmful as certain other kinds, but constant exposure could lead to cancer."

"Pack your bags Dr. Banner. You're going to go meet some of them," Fury gave what could have the man what could have been a smile, but with the Captain, it was often difficult to tell. Taking a couple of files from Fury, Banner began flipping through them. "Their names are Abby - and Connor -. They're a couple of the people who first stepped through the anomalies, and I believe are also the only ones who are still alive. They've been traveling through these for years, even got stuck in the past for a long time. You can run some tests if they give you permission. You fly down to San Antonio, Texas tomorrow morning. They believe there is going to be another anomaly there."

"Yes, sir," he looked up as Fury left the room, leaving him alone with the beakers and test results in his hands. Sighing, he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Being here in the lab, he was good at what he did. He was the best in his field, but it came with a price. The thing that 0terrified him the most was that he missed it, the fighting in New York. He'd saved lives. Hell, he'd saved the world. And he missed the team he'd fought with. True, he'd seen Natasha, Barton, Rogers, and the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D., but he hadn't seen Stark or Thor in a year. Last he'd heard, Stark was arguing with Fury over building weapons for the military and had recently fought off a dangerous terrorist. Thor, on the other hand, was off in Asgard with his brother Loki. He had no way to communicate with the god who lived in a completely different world.

Back in the field… Was it really a good idea? Somehow, he'd managed to keep control as the monster in New York, but would he be able to do it again? The power he'd felt had been exhilarating as always, but now he could help people instead of simply destroy. At least, Banner hoped he could. There was no telling what would happen unless he transformed again, and that would be a huge risk. S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't be terribly pleased if he transformed without orders to do so.

He pulled out his wallet and looked down at the photo of all of them, standing on the Brooklyn Bridge after the battle was over, grinning at the camera. Hawkeye had his arms wrapped around Natasha, Rogers was slapping Thor on the back, and Stark was standing beside Banner, grinning cockily. If there was anyone he missed the most, it would by Tony. He was almost like a brother, though their personalities were very different. But they were both geniuses, and he was one of the few people he could talk to about his work and experiments.

Grabbing his satchel, he stuffed the files inside and walked out of the laboratory, excited to get going. He enjoyed his time in the lab, but going out to see these anomalies for himself would be exhilarating. He was finally going to see what he had been studying and meet the people who knew everything about it. Fury handed him the plane tickets as he left the New York office. Tomorrow he would be in San Antonio, Texas. Something different at last.

"Natasha!"

"Yes Agent Barton?" She turned to face him, smirking and raising an eyebrow, a hand on the desk as she leaned against it. The black dress she wore was floor length with a long slit from her lower thigh. Her hair was curled and dark red, falling to her shoulders. Barton's breath caught in his throat as he looked at her. She looked as beautiful as ever, but he also recognized her strength and intelligence. She was often underestimated thanks to her beauty and femininity. But Barton knew better.

"Are you ready Romanov?" She smiled and walked to him, roughly adjusting his tie. He looked out the window, his lip curved upward into a smile. The suit he wore was simple, just a black jacket, a white ironed shirt, and dress slacks. Natasha closed the jacket and handed him his compound bow, created so that it could fold up and could easily be carried without notice.

"Of course. Are you ready to go?" she loaded the pistol she carried and put it in her purse. The former Soviet spy walked side by side with him as he nodded, walking out the door and into the street outside their apartment. An agent opened the back door to a dark colored SUV and they slipped inside.

"Cuban Name, spy for Spanish for Information Recovery Agency. He's stolen several sets of weapon blueprints from the S.H.I.E.L.D. database. We need to get them back before he manages to get it to al-Qaeda. They have several men there, Americans." Barton flipped through the files, assessing the situation, pulling out the building plans and looking at the location in detail. "Fury managed to get us on the guest list, but we need to get this done quickly. They won't let us in with weapons, so we'll have to slip in through one of the back doors. We'll need to knock out the guard first and find Cuban Name."

"Let's get to the party, Clint." He laughed and sat back as the car began to move forward, shaking his head and flicking a knife back and forth, staring at the blade of silver in his large hand. Natasha sighed and stared out the window, deep in thought. He was acting normal, like his usual self, but she knew after what Loki had done to him, manipulating his mind and forcing him to act like a slave, taking away all of his free will, he was still trying to make things go back to normal like before.

But she knew better. Clint had killed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, old friends, while he was forced to watch, unable to control his own body. Most people didn't notice the pain he was in, but after all the two of them had been through together, she could tell how much he was hurting, more than he would like to admit, even to her. He refused to discuss it with anyone, including her. She wanted to talk to him about it, help him heal. However, he wouldn't speak of it. "You know what I like about you Romanov? You've always got your eye on the target, always focused on what's ahead."

When the car was parked, Clint exited before walking to Natasha's side, opening the door and holding out his large hand to her. She took it and stepped out gracefully, ambling towards the alley where the side door was. Natasha pulled out the small tranquilizer and quickly shot the guard standing by, a dose large enough to keep him unconscious for the next few hours while they did their work. Barton grabbed the man under his arms and dragged him inside, placing him in a closet as Natasha slipped the gun back inside of her purse.

Soon, they were inside a large ballroom, decorated with golden ornaments and ruby colored walls, chandeliers dangling from the tall ceiling above. The floor was a dark mahogany, with one side of the room adorned with various circular tables covered in a white tablecloth and silver dining sets, reflecting the light of the candles that were the centerpieces. Clint took her arm in the nook of his elbow, his sharp eyes looking out for their target. He led her to the center of the dance floor, resting one hand on her hip and holding her hand with the other, waltzing and turning with her in small steps.

"You look beautiful tonight," he smiled softly down at her, and she returned it in kind, her dark red lips curving upwards as they danced. Ever since he'd taken her off of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s enemies list, she'd spoken of her connection to him as a debt she owed, nothing more. But in her heart she knew that he was one of the most important people in her life. When she'd heard he'd been compromised by Loki, she'd dropped everything, including an important case she had been in the middle of, so that she could make sure he was alright. Despite what she had told the others, she had done it because she cared for Barton like no one else she knew. She loved him.

Suddenly, they both heard a voice from their earpieces, and they knew the time had come to get to work. "The target has arrived." They continued dancing as to not draw any attention, before Clint led her out of the ballroom and into the hallway. Hurrying towards an empty room, they began to ready their guns for the fight that was coming, turning off the safety and loading the bullets. Then they waited, as agents outside watched the screens of the security cameras they had tapped into beforehand, watching the target and waiting for an opportunity to get him alone.