Chapter 1 - Welcome to London, Amelia Pond
It was four years after Sherlock had jumped, four years after Moriarty had put a bullet in his head, and a year after Sherlock had returned, having hunted down every single one of Moriarty's sharpshooters in his three year absence so they could no longer be a threat to the very few people he cared about. The world had accepted Sherlock's return because John and Lestrade had spent the three years of his absence proving that he hadn't been a fake, a task Sherlock was truly amazed they'd taken on, and even more astounded that they'd succeeded. Everything was as it had been, they were once again living at 221B baker street, once again acting as consulting detective and companion blogger. They were on a case, heading back to their flat on Baker street when they heard the crash of something falling in an empty alley they'd just passed. Sherlock was prepared to ignore it, but then came a female cry, and John, the eternal hero he was, couldn't ignore it.
"Sherlock! Wait just a moment." he said, putting up his hands in the sign to wait. Then before Sherlock could protest, he was off, running back towards the alley.
Amelia Pond fell to the ground with a loud and painful crash, the breath rushing out of her lungs. She clambered to her feet but immediately fell against the wall, head spinning dizzily. She could still hear the Doctor shouting her name, the TARDIS console room shooting sparks, but she had no idea what was happening or why she was here on the street instead of there with him. She was dressed in boots that climbed to mid-calf, sheer tights, a mini-skirt, a long navy coat, and a very long, very bright red knit scarf that matched her long sleeved shirt. She wrapped the scarf around her neck again, shivering from the cold, and from the next wave of dizziness that hit her.
"Y'all right there miss?" came a voice, and she jumped with a startled shout, looking around only to realize she was in an alley, and it was late.
"Fine. M'fine." she said with an easy smile, slowly skirting along the wall and away from the man she didn't know. Before she got far, she heard another voice shout out.
"Sherlock! Wait just a moment." Then a short, worried looking man appeared at the end of the alley.
"Everything alright?" he asked in a friendly, if not authoritative voice. Not a copper, Amy could tell, but authoritative all the same. The first man just nodded and slunk off, and the short, blonde, middle aged man took a tentative step closer to where Amy stood. "My name's John, just so you know, John Watson. heard the crash when we were passing by, though I didn't see you on the first pass." he told her easily, and she just nodded, continuing to walk along the wall towards the end of the alley. "You sure you're alright?" he asked, but again she just nodded.
"Fine, thanks." she said, scottish accent ringing out and surprising him. She rubbed the back of her head as if she'd hit it and John found himself checking for signs of blood. "Um, would you mind tellin' me just where we are?" she asked John with the friendly eyes and he gave a frown.
"Corner of Adelaide and Primrose Hill." he told her with that same frown, taking another step forward, offering a helping hand. Not believing what she'd heard, she gave an embarrassed smile that had John stopping and giving a tentative smile in return. "Right, thanks, but um, do you mean to say we're in London?" he gave an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his head with the hand he'd extended, glancing back to see Sherlock coming down the road towards the alley, customary scowl in place.
"Yes, we are most definitely in London." he informed her, and she gave an almost relieved laugh. "How did you get here?"
"Oh you know, just popped in." she said with a wave at the sky. "That's great, though." she drawled in her scottish accent. "I know a bit of London. The Doctor will definitely find me if I'm here. Gotta run." was all she said before taking off, head still spinning but wanting to find her friend she knew to live in London so she could settle down to wait for her Doctor. She dashed around the corner and nearly ran into a tall, imposing figure with dark curly locks and pale calculating eyes. "Sorry." was all she said as he steadied her before running off, loose fiery curls bouncing as she sprinted away in the mini skirt.
Sherlock watched her go with a frown – a clearly beautiful, clearly youthful woman with ginger hair and green eyes that had locked on his with no fear and only the hint of surprise most had when they bumped into a stranger in the middle of the night.
"Who was she?" Sherlock asked, turning back to John who stepped out of the alley, scratching the back of his head with a look of confusion plastered on his face.
"Dunno really. Seems a bit lost if you ask me. Didn't seem to know we were in London!" he said in surprise. "Then she was off. Said something about a doctor." Looking at a loss, John dropped his hand with a shrug. "Lets be off then. Sherlock?"
"Hmm?" Sherlock turned back, having tuned out John's words as he stared after the ginger woman in the mini skirt; she'd surprised him, and not from running into him, but because he hadn't been able to see as much in her as he usually saw in people. There was something missing. Secrets. He frowned again, starting off again towards the flat he and John shared, unable to shake the image of the ginger from his mind. She was a mystery, the first human mystery he'd come across in a long time, since Irene Adler and then since... Him. He shook the dark memory of that man from his thoughts, returning his concentration to the woman. She was still a mystery, and mysteries always intrigued him.
Amy stopped running only when her sides were burning and she bent over, hands on her knees to catch her breath. Then she hailed a cab, giving them the flat number of her old friend Lucy Pengrast. She needed to find her Doctor, or rather, he needed to find her, but for some reason a strange pair of pale blue eyes shadowed by dark curls kept creeping into her thoughts as the cab rushed down the road. She let out a huffed breath. John Watson, the one man had introduced himself as, and the first thing she'd heard him say was - Sherlock? She rolled the name around in her thoughts. It was a strange name, not that she could say much since she travelled with a man who went only by "The Doctor" but it was strange none the less. She wondered briefly what they'd been doing out at what was obviously a late hour, but once again she just grinned to herself. Probably out having an adventure, she thought wistfully, and how she was already missing her own.