A SuperWhoLock story
John Watson moved stealthily under the arm of his flat mate and off the bed without so much of a squeak from the mattress. Flat Mate. After last night was that even an appropriate word?
He was so lost in thought that he almost walked face first into a wooden blue box the size of a large fridge.
"Bloody hell, what is this supposed to be?" John asked the empty sitting room. "It looks like an old police box. The box was in the middle of the flat. How the hell did he get it in the flat?" He looked at the too narrow windows and the too short door. "How?"
Completely confused John padded back to the room, he stop a second to think if waking Sherlock up were worth it. What the hell. Just before he took a step he heard a noise, sort of like a cabinet door opening. He looked around but nothing opened.
Shrugging he continued to the door after deciding that it was his mind playing tricks on him.
A step from the door he stopped, fist raised to knock when a voice echoed behind the closed door.
"John you do know you don't have to knock."
John knocked anyway as he walked into the room, he was meet by the stare of two piercing blue eyes. Sherlock was still lying in the bed, his usually neat curly hair messy and on closer look John noticed all their clothes scattered around the room. After a minute or two of surveying they mess they made John looked into Sherlock's eyes.
"About last night…" John started, scratching his head, looking for the right words to make it right.
"It wasn't what you've been dreaming of?" Sherlock questioned with a slight smirk on his still swollen lips.
"It's not that-" but John was cut off.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" asked a male voice from the sitting room.
Sherlock sat up fast and grabbed the sheet from the bed, wrapping it around him. He rushed out of the room, but before he told John to grab the gun from his nightstand.
Dean awoke to a pounding on the cheap motel wall and a voice on the other side calling for him to get up.
"Dammit, Sammy! I need my sleep!" he yelled. Dean felt the bed shift and the arm around his waist move away. Cas. Dammit he woke Cas up.
"Well maybe if you two actually slept this wouldn't be a problem." Sammy said through the wall.
"Dean, he is right. We do need to sleep more." Cas muttered pushing his face into deans neck and lightly kissing him. Dean moaned loudly as Cas' hand trailed down his chest and to his waist.
"Dean! Stop fucking your angel and get up!" Sammy sounded more annoyed.
"Cas…" Dean tried to tell him to stop but instead he pulled Cas' mouth to his. Castiel may be an angel but he didn't act like it while he kissed Dean, seriously the guy's a freak in bed.
"Come on, Cas. We gotta get up." Dean said almost painfully. Dean wasn't into all the mushy romantic stuff but if he could, he'd stay in bed with Cas forever. Cas sat up with a sigh and disappeared. Damn angels.
After Dean padded around the room to collect his clothing and got dressed, he met Sam in the hallway. He looked pissed and the crease in his forehead suggested he was worried.
"Dammit, Dean this is important. I got a call from John earlier. He sounded pretty panicked. Something about a blue box and a doctor. I told him we'd be there as soon as we could." Sam ran his hand through his hair and looked expectantly at Dean.
"Whoa whoa whoa, you woke me up at…" Dean checked his watch, "eleven ten to go to London? Seriously? I thought you got the fact that I don't fly anywhere." Dean scowled.
"Yeah, well that's where your boyfriend comes in. he'll just zap us there. It's easier that trying to get you on a plane and it doesn't cost anything, so it's a win win."
"Fine." Dean said, and then turned his face slightly to the sky, "I guess you heard Sam. We need to go to London, and fast. We need you, Cas."
It took a few seconds for the angel to respond but he did pop out of nowhere with his freaking angel mojo.
"Ready?" Cas asked. Dean and Sam nodded as the angel touched their foreheads, then nothing.
The Doctor buzzed about the TARDIS console looking worried as he pushed and pulled levers.
"Doctor, what's happening? What are we running from?" Clara asked as she held onto the railing until her knuckles turned white.
"I need Sherlock's brilliant mind. One great mind is good but two is even better." He said vaguely. Not actually answering her question. "I just need a place to land her. We'll be there in no time." The Doctor sounded more as if he were talking to himself. Clara heard him mutter something about angels to himself then say it wasn't possible.
"Doctor, don't treat me like a child. What the hell is going on? I know something happened." The Doctor stopped and turned to face her, he looked…Scared.
"I've been keeping an eye out for weeping angels; they send people back in time and feed off of their time energy." After seeing the confused look on her face he explained further. "When they send someone back they feed on their future." The Doctor waved his hand dismissing the subject. He turned back to the console but not before muttering something about ponds.
"So, this Sherlock guy will be able to help?" Clara questioned, moving closer to the Doctor as she did.
"He's got the most brilliant mind there is, well for an ape." The Doctor looked slightly deflated and defeated.
"Are you okay? It is alright to not be okay sometimes." Clara said softly putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her and smiled.
"Clara Oswald, I am the king of okay. Oh look, we're here." He pointed at the screen and she saw a sitting room. Just a normal sitting room, a genius lives here?
The TARDIS materialized silently, the Doctor took special care not to frighten away the two that lived in the flat.
"Clara, I'm going to pop out real quick to see if it's safe." As he got to the doors he turned around, "Stay there, will ya?" He stepped out, leaving Clara alone in a box that doesn't quite fancy her.
"Is there any way that you'll put on the screen what's out there?" she asked the console. "You know, to make sure he doesn't get into trouble?" the screen above the console swung towards her, almost smacking her square in the jaw, and turned on. There was the Doctor, with two men. Why was one in a bed sheet?
"Theres no way I'm staying in here while you have all the fun!" she muttered as she crossed to the doors. She hadn't yet reached for the door when the two wooden doors flew open and she was then thrown from the TARDIS.
"Oi! What was that for?" Clara shouted from the floor of the flat. The three men stopped talking to look at her. "Sorry, sorry."
"Were you talking to the box?" asked the shorter man.
"Don't dis the TARDIS." The Doctor calmly said.
"Clara," 'The Doctor', as he introduced himself, sighed. "I told you to… never mind. Okay, introductions." He pointed at John, "The man in the jumper is John Watson and, er…" the 'Doctor' stopped a second, obviously uncomfortable, then pointed to Sherlock. "The man in the bed sheet is Sherlock Holmes."
The girl, Clara apparently, looked surprised.
"The Sherlock Holmes? He's just a story though!" she was staring at Sherlock.
"Well, you're right but in this universe he's real, different universe than yours." He explained.
Sherlock met her gaze with his own, her, clearly intimidated, looked away. She had to be about mid twentys, yet there was an unspoken oldness to her. She wore a red dress that went down to her knees, completely different from the ones the women wear now. She situated herself slightly behind the Doctor, obviously she thinks he'll be able to protect her, from what though? Other than the completely obvious facts, Sherlock couldn't see anything elses about her.
He moved his gaze to the Doctor and though he looked young, his eyes are the ones of an old man. He was a hyper active person, always tapping or fiddling with things he pulls out of his pockets. Sherlock stopped, he couldn't read much more than he could the girl. He didn't like not knowing.
Looking over to john he saw that the short man was still holding the gun,
"John, you can put the gun away now. I don't see a reason to use it right now." Sherlock muttered at him. John set the gun on the counter and moved back to Sherlock, sending a worried look to the taller man.
"Er, Mr. Holmes?" The girl asked.
"Hm?"
"Could you, er put some clothes on?"
"I'm fine. Come on. There's a reason you're here. Let's sit." He moved to his chair and sat down, the others followed in tow.