From cjnwriter:
Dec 1: Crossover with a favorite childhood book, movie, or TV show

"Watson!" Holmes called to me as he clattered into our hall and up the seventeen steps to our sitting room. "Watson! Come quickly! There is a man that I wish for you to meet!"

I shivered in the chill draught that my friend brought in with him and turned in my chair to meet his gaze.

"It is still snowing hard out then," I remarked, noting that his coat, scarf and hat were heavily dusted with large, rapidly-thawing snowflakes. I had a good mind to inform my friend that he had forgotten to kick the snow from his shoes before he came upstairs and that Mrs. Hudson would no doubt have a thing or two to say about it, but something in his manner kept me from uttering another word.

He nodded and sniffed in a manner that informed me that the weather was of little importance. "Yes indeed, but we shan't be out in it for long. Do come along old fellow; I can assure you that you shall not want to miss this."

My companion knows from experience that I do not like to be left out of his cases. His assurance that I would be upset were I to miss out told me all that I needed to know and I stood somewhat stiffly and took up my cane while Holmes took the stairs two at a time to seek out my hat, coat and muffler for me and to find an umbrella.

"Why he could not move his box closer to the house I cannot fathom," my friend remarked as we set off through the swirling snow. "Never the less, he wanted to see us both and I said that we would come. I daresay that you shall enjoy this experience. The man that you are about to meet is like no other Watson; I can assure you that you shall find The Doctor fascinating."

I am accustomed to my companion's mysterious nature, but I could not help wishing to know what he could possibly be talking about. I might well have asked him, but I was finding it rather difficult to keep up with the fellow, despite the manner in which he patiently slowed his pace and offered me his arm, and I knew that he would say no more no matter how I might press him.

After what seemed an age to me with my aching leg and shoulder, a box large enough to shelter a man loomed out of the swirling snow in front of us and my friend gave a little cry of excitement.

"Here we are Watson; we can get in out of this dreadful weather and warm ourselves now. Can you pick up the pace, do you think? You must be frightfully cold!"

I gave no reply but rallied as best as I could. Holmes was indeed right and I was chilled to the very bone, but he had been out in the elements longer than I and my concern rested much more with him than myself.

"How exactly are we supposed to shelter in this box?" I asked of him. "And where is this doctor who asked to see us?"

"Mr. Holmes! Doctor Watson!" an enthusiastic voice hailed us as the door of the box opened before us. "Come in, come in! You look cold. Would you like some tea?"

We were dragged inside rather eagerly and I swayed at my companion's side as I took in my surroundings for the scene that my eyes beheld was simply not possible.

"Steady old chap," Holmes said quietly as he braced me with the arm that was still linked through mine. "My apologies Watson. I would have warned you, but I really did not quite know how best to prepare you without causing you to think me mad or unwell. Doctor, have you a chair for my friend and colleague?"

I was still gazing about us in wonder and confusion as I was ushered to a stool that I did not remember noticing when we entered and the Doctor took our outer garments.

"But... but it is not possible," I gasped as I finally found my voice. "I saw it as we entered! There should not be room enough for us to stand side by side, much less to sit down!"

"They usually say 'It's bigger on the inside' the first time they enter," Holmes' acquaintance informed me as he rubbed his hands together.

"Watson keeps our agency firmly flat-footed upon the ground," my companion responded with a quiet chuckle. "You must forgive him Doctor; this is all rather too much for him."

The Doctor merely smiled and clapped his hands. "Quite right; everything can be explained with science, after all."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "How can a box that houses a vast room on its inside be explained with science?"

The smile on the stranger's face broadened. "Your modern science can't explain it, but mine can! I'm from the future - I'm a time traveller."

I felt Holmes steady me again and was glad that he was still beside me.

"Perhaps Watson would fare better if you were to show him," my companion suggested. "Perhaps you could take us off somewhere warmer? Australia perhaps. That should convince him well enough."

"I could take you somewhere, I suppose," said he. "Which year? You could see the past, the future... I could even show you what it was like here in the time of the dinosaurs, if you like."

"Well, Watson?" my friend asked of me. "What would you like to see?"

It was unusual for Holmes to ask me where I might wish to go and for a moment I was undecided. Then I remembered that my friend was rather fond of Europe and that he had a French grandmother."

"France?" he repeated in surprise. "Are you quite sure? We can travel much further than that in the blink of an eye! What about the New World? In Summertime, with the flowers in bloom?"

I gaped at him. "Holmes, America is in the Northern hemisphere, the same as us - it would be as much in the grip of winter as England is!"

"Time travel Watson," he repeated just a little impatiently. "We can go where we please, when we please."

I ran a hand that was somewhat less than steady over my face. "America in Summertime it is then," I agreed quietly.

"Wahey!" Holmes turned to beam at his acquaintance. "Do you think that your remarkable box of tricks can manage that Doctor?"

"Of course she can!" the eccentric man replied as he patted the podium beside him. "Just you watch!"

He then started to dance around the podium while he flicked this and twiddled that. I was just beginning to think that nothing was happening when the room in which I was sitting gave a sudden jolt and the floor started to shiver and vibrate beneath me.

Holmes smiled at me from the corner of his eye as we watched his acquaintance with interest. "I have met this chap three times before now," he informed me. "The first occasion was long before now; long before I knew what I would become, in fact. He was wearing a different face then, mind you."

"He is a master of disguise, like yourself, then?"

"There is little that he cannot turn his hand to; he is a remarkable man. As you shall soon see, I am willing to bet."

With that, the floor stopped vibrating and all was quiet and still.

"Welcome to America, August 1883," The Doctor announced as he guided us to the door. "If you'll come this way..."

I had not set foot on American soil before and, I believe, Holmes had not done so either. The Doctor, however, seemed to know exactly where to go. He escorted us to a large park, in which many people were already strolling.

"This is Central Park," our acquaintance informed us. "I know that you like art Mr. Holmes, so I thought that you might like it here - they opened an art gallery here last month."

My mind was still whirling, but Holmes took it all in his stride. No doubt this was not as new to him as it was to myself.

We spent a charming afternoon in the park. We took a stroll alongside the lake and took tea outside of the art gallery. The weather excellent, but the blue sky and bright sunshine caused me to dread returning home and being forced to trudge back to the house in the terrible conditions that we had left behind us.

Holmes hummed quietly as he picked a bunch of flowers before we returned to the blue box in which we had arrived. "For Mrs. Hudson," he informed me with a chuckle.

"But how will you explain how you came by them?" I asked of him.

He merely shrugged and chuckled again. "Our housekeeper knows well enough to expect the unexpected," he replied. "Besides, I really should apologise for all the dirt that I walked through the house. It was quite thoughtless of me."

"I'll try to drop you at your door this time," The Doctor informed us as we stepped inside and pulled on our outerwear. "Right then... London, December the first 1881."

Before I knew it, we were outside of 221B Baker Street, surrounded once more by swirling snow.

"I hope your first Christmas together is a merry one," The Doctor said as he prepared to show us out. "I'm sure that you'll spend many more together."

The bright, knowing smile with which he addressed us as we filed out told me that he was rather more than sure. What a strange thing time travel must be, to know what will be with as much assurance as one knows what was. It perhaps should have made me uncomfortable that the fellow knew what was to come, but it gave me a peculiar feeling of hope and reassurance that whatever was to come, this man seemed to know that we would come through it together.