The door to the blue box was pulled open from the inside and a man and and a girl bounced out, deep into a light-hearted argument. Somewhere in-between "The last time you said we were going for breakfast we were attacked by mutant rubber ducks Doctor!" and "Well, it was your perfume that attracted them in the first place so really it was-" The pair seemed to notice they were standing in a kitchen with two very intrigued onlookers.
"Ah." The man said, looking at their surroundings, "We may have made a slight detour on our way there... Oh, hello!" He said, noticing Sherlock and John for the first time. "We are, um... Health and Safety inspectors. Just, passing through... Making sure everything's... healthy..." He rummaged through the deep pockets of his long brown coat until he found and held up an ID pass with the names Jack Greham and Sarah Smith.
"That paper's blank." Sherlock drawled from where he was standing beside John.
"What? No, it says their names on it Sherlock" John explained, "Look, right in the middle there, it even has a picture."
"Some sort of physic paper, I'm assuming? Mmm, yes, oh that's very clever. It can manipulate the brainwaves John. It makes you see what you expect to see."
The man seemed torn between whether to be shocked or impressed and his friend just seemed confused. "Doctor?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowed, "How can he see through that?"
"Where are we?" The man questioned, turning to John now.
John replied hesitantly,"London?" How did these people get inside his home without even knowing how they got here?
"London," The man mused over the word, "And, what year would this be?"
"Is this a joke?" John demanded, "How can you not know where you are or what year it is? How can...?" His question trailed off as the man, this 'Doctor' as the girl had called him, got an even more predatory look on his face.
"Forget us for a minute, what about you?" the Doctor leaned forward, scrutinizing every detail of their faces, "Who are you?"
Sherlock leaned back subconsciously, automatically reclining away from the penetrating gaze, "I'm Sherlock Holmes and this is John Watson" He said, slightly defensively at having to identify himself in their own kitchen.
A wide smile stretched across the Doctor's face, lighting up his eyes and causing his cheeks to dimple. A similar reaction to the names was appearing on the girls face as well. They turned to look at each other, gleefully.
"And you say I never take you anywhere..."
"Oh, Shut up. Remember last time? It was nearly a week before I got that slime out of my hair. And-" Their interaction is halted as John began to speak,
"Could someone please explain what is going on here? What is happening? How did you get into our kitchen? What is that blue box? Why couldn't Sherlock read your I.D card?" John stopped, incredulous of the situation and deliberating between which question to ask next.
"All perfectly valid questions John," Sherlock drawled, "But the most important ones all appear to have been forgotten, for example, look at the door width." John glanced over at the door and stared back at the box in his kitchen.
"That box is too wide."
"Correct, so presuming that in the two point three minutes where I wasn't paying attention to the kitchen that two strangers didn't manage to break down our door, walk up our stairs carrying heavy planks of wood, set up the wood in a box shape - all of this of course being done silently without anyone noticing - I think we can conclude that these two didn't come through the door." Sherlock circled around the pair, examining them, and ended up subtly leaning against the door, blocking the exit out of the kitchen.
"So now would be the appropriate time to tell us who you are, what you want and how exactly you ended up in our kitchen. Mycroft would never have the resources for physic paper, no matter how much power he implies he has." Sherlock continued leaning again the door, his eyebrows raised expectantly at the pair in front of the box.
"We're..." They exchanged a glance, before the Doctor continued, "We're sort of travellers. We travel... to places... and then we leave those places and travel somewhere else..."
"Travellers." Sherlock repeated, mocking him, "Just your ordinary everyday passer-by who ends up in the middle of Baker Street with no idea how they got there."
"Baker Street! That's-" The Doctor stopped in the middle of his sentence, warned from digressing by a glare from John. "Well, we sort of tend to travel a little bit further than your regular humans would. We just-" Sherlock interrupted him again, standing up straight and looking intriguingly at the pair.
"Your inflections for that sentence were off. The typical intonation would be placing an emphasis on 'regular', to indicate to your listener that you were more than typical, but you didn't do that."
"Didn't I?" The Doctor asked, trying his best to look innocent. It didn't work.
"No. You placed the emphasis on 'human', to indicate you're more than that. More than human..." The silence resonated through the room as Sherlock finished saying those words, everyone was frozen in place and the undercurrent of tension became palpable. Sherlock leaned forward and asked, quietly, but with a definite note of demand in his voice, "It's not who are you, is it?" He paused, rephrasing his question. "It's what are you?"
***I forgot a disclaimer in the first chapter so, - Disclaimer: nothing is mine, both Sherlock and Doctor Who belong to their respective creators.(and we're all very lucky that I don't write them because they're both amazing just as they are)