Hello, Moriarty here! Firstly, I would like to let the world know that neither I, nor Mycroft own any of these characters, shows, references, and or even our names. Secondly, I would like to introduce our newest fanfiction: Pocket Boy. This, you probably already are aware of is a crossover. One normally not thought of. This is because of one of the strangest dream I have had to date. I hope you both understand the jokes, and enjoy the story.

M

For the final time, the Doctor had dropped off his latest companions, Amy and Rory, in front of their TARDIS blue door. Now the timelord was traveling the galaxy solo, looking for his next adventure.

"THE BELLS OF NOTRE DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAME! LA LA LA, LA LA LA, LA LA LA LA LA LAAAAAAAAAA!" the Doctor sang to himself from within the TARDIS. He had already chosen his next destination. He wished to witness Victor Hugo's literary genius first hand.

The TARDIS began to make its sounds, and teleport the doctor to his destination. Naturally, the Doctor skipped out of his blue box, quite happily. To his surprise, his current location was a bit too high-tech for 19th century France.

This place was very dimly lit, and all of the walls and floors were made of a non-Earth metal. The Doctor decided to look around his new surroundings. By this point he was genre savvy enough to know that when the TARDIS brought him to the wrong points in time and space there was usually something going down. He raced down the corridor in hopes for some excitement.

"Hey you! Stop! Hey you! Stop! Stop!"

The Doctor turned around to see two guards, in their little blue uniforms, shouting at him.

"Oh, hi!" greeted the Doctor. "I like your batons! Batons are cool! I should get a baton!"

"Who are you?" asked one of the guards.

"I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor who?"

"Why does everyone insist on having a title drop! It stopped being funny 49 years ago!" said the Doctor.

"Where are you supposed to be?" asked a guard.

"Why, 19th century France!" smiled the Doctor. "But it's alright. Sexy doesn't always take me where I want to go."

"Right...Sexy..."

Then they tasered him.

Groggily, the Doctor opened his eyes. He was laying on the cold floor.

"Well that was a tad harsh," he grumbled, looking down at his clothes as he stood. "They changed my clothes!" he touched his neck. "Well, at least they left the bow tie."

"Well, hello there, pretty," a soft Alabama accent reached the Doctor's ears. "Never seen one like you around this place. Normally they're made for ugly old sinners like me."

The Doctor looked to see an older man before him. Dirty, with piercing bright brown eyes, a rooster-like crop of hair, and a menacing smirk.

"Well, hello there!" the Doctor looked around, noticing the bars behind him. He was clearly in a prison cell. "Are we cell mates?"

"Well..." said the man, stepping forward with a controlling glint in his eye, "We're definitely mates now..."

The man pulled his pocket inside out.

"Let's take a walk."

Reviews are appreciated!