"Hello Doctor," came a deep voice from the shadows. The Doctor tuned slowly on his heel to face the speaker.
"Show yourself, who are you? And how do you know my name?" he asked quizzically, a man stepped out into the streak of moonlight that was creeping down the silent street. Snow fell softly onto his long coat and dark blue scarf but his face still hidden in the shadows.
"Who I am is not important." He stated with subtle determination, "I know exactly who you are, I know everything about you."
"How do you know about me? I'm really not very interesting at all, just a regular person taking a stroll." The man chuckled and shook his head.
"How long have you travelled alone?" The Doctor's face developed an unmistakably grave expression, "you're just a poor man, wandering the universe, what happened to them?"
"To who?" The Doctor started bustling with his jacket and bow tie, avoiding eye contact. "I don't know who you are or what you want but I really do have places to be." He turned quickly and began to walk down the street but the stranger grabbed his wrist and pulled him back determinedly. The Doctor lifted his head in an attempt at dominance as the man leaned in to his left, he hardly dared to breathe. The stranger was taller than him and he felt his hair brush against his cold cheek.
"What do you want with me?" The Doctor asked warily. His eyes darting around to check for anyone that might be able to help, but the street was deserted.
"Don't be so alarmed Doctor, I only need you to deliver a message." He said into his ear.
"But how can I deliver a message when I have no idea who you are?" He reached silently into his pocket for the sonic screwdriver; this man knew so much about him he couldn't possibly be human.
"Leave your pocket alone." He said slightly louder than his previous statement, making The Doctor jump, how could the stranger have known? He had been silent and his right hand was not within eye line of him.
"It's okay, it's not a weapon." The Doctor said, but his hand was hovering above his pocket. The stranger chuckled to himself again.
"Oh I know it's not a weapon, that's not your type of thing is it?" he leaned back out so they saw each other properly for the first time, well, The Doctor saw the stranger's face for the first time but it couldn't be the same the other way round. The stranger had light blue eyes and high cheekbones. His black hair was thick but slightly damp from the melted snow. A slow wind ruffled the lightest strands; his face was slim and looked as though it had been carved of stone. His blue scarf hung around his neck making his face seem pale in comparison to the darkness of his clothing.
"So can you send a message?" he asked.
"You want me to help you?" replied The Doctor, still wary
"No. I don't need help, I can work perfectly well on my own, I need," he paused, looking for the right word, "assistance." He confirmed. His face returned to stone, waiting patiently for his answer.
"So you need my assistance?" The Doctor asked, slowly circling the stranger. "I see you're trying very hard, you're not a patient person are you?" he faced him again and smirked.
"I can be patient." He growled his nostrils flared slightly and his eyes fixed on The Doctor's eyes.
"So, you said you could tell me about myself, what could you possibly know about me?" The stranger smirked.
"I was hoping you would ask that." He nodded and adjusted the length of his sleeves the placed his hands in his pockets. His eyes took in every part of The Doctor within a second. "If I tell you about yourself, will you send my message?"
"Yes." The Doctor nodded, his fluffy hair bounced slightly then remained still.
"Ok, you almost walked past me, you didn't notice I was here, you are distracted with something that has happened very recently. You were walking with your hands in your pockets, shoulders hunched you feel dejected, something has broken both your hearts in two."
"What?!" said The Doctor, alarmed, "I'm normal, normal people only have one heart…"
"Silence. I know you have two, the pulse in your neck is irregular. Not human.2
"I only have one heart!" The Doctor almost shouted and he rubbed his eye in frustration and spun on his heel. "How do you know who I am? I remember everyone but not you, who are you? How do y-" he was cut off.
"Be quiet, I haven't finished. You just rubbed your eye, that means you are doubtful of the words I am saying." The Doctor quickly tilted his hear and ran his fingers through his thick hair and turned his face away from the man before him then back quickly. "Who ar-" he interrupted again.
"You just tilted your head, thank you."
"You're welcome? And for what? Who are you?!"
"You tilted your head, that means you are interested in what I am saying, but you feel insecure." The stranger tilted his head slightly, and smirked.
"How do you know so much about me? No-one knows this much about me, I only have one heart, I am a normal human and I did not experience something sad." The Doctor said, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. He glanced right. The stranger chuckled.
"You are lying."
"No I'm not!"
"Yes you are, you looked right, that is an obvious sign of a fabricating or in other words, lying."
"Fine." The Doctor looked the mysterious man straight in the eye as if daring him to go on.
"Stop grinding your teeth, it's putting me off and also tells me that you are tense." The stranger looked left. "Aha, adjusting your bow tie. Please don't be nervous, you wanted this after all."
The Doctor interlocked his hands then stood as still as he could.
"Interlocking fingers I see, frustrated or anxious, please tell me which one." The Doctor didn't move.
"You have dirt, on your shoes. Where have you been walking? Through mud? And your smell is distinctive, you have been somewhere old, there was stone and grass" he closed his eyes and took a long sniff in. "A graveyard." The stranger looked The Doctor in the eyes and nodded. "Your friends died, that is why you muttered to yourself. And that is why you are sad. It was not your fault." The Doctors' eyes with brimming with the tears that he was desperate to choke back. He swallowed hard but the stranger carried on talking as if he wasn't even there.
"You have been crying, I could tell that from the moment you walked past, you are lonely and you have lost friends, so many friends. They used to travel with you but now they are all gone, you are off to travel alone. You are not human; your wisdom suggests that you are older than your time you have seen things that no-one else has. You do not belong here, or anywhere so you move continuously but you feel underappreciated because no-one has ever thanked you because you think that they don't care. You are so, so alone."
"What do you want from me?" The Doctor's voice came out as a hoarse whisper, his face was soaked with the memories and the times that he had with them, each and every one of them, whoever they were. The stranger looked back at him quickly as though he had forgotten that he was still there.
"I need you to deliver a message." The Doctor nodded his eyes were glazed with tears.
"I need you to find my friend, and tell him I am alive. His name is John Watson. Please, this is so important to me, tell him I am alive."
"Who are you?"
"The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221b Baker Street."