an: Wow, this is short! And late! Sorry guys, exams have been keeping me busy, but they're over now, so I can get back to writing! (Also you should note that reviews are better than chocolate chip cookies.)

Last time:

'Come on John, we're following them,' Sherlock said, exiting the same way the Doctor and Rose did.

'Agreed,' John said, casting one last glance at the blue box and following Sherlock.

The Doctor and Rose walked hand in hand through the busy streets of London, blending in with the every day Londoners.

'Sherlock Holmes and John Watson?' Rose asked with a tone of amazement. 'How? Just… how?'

'Alternate universe,' the Doctor explained. 'That's why the Tardis ride was so bumpy, we were travelling straight into a parallel universe. It used to be easy to travel through universes, when the Time Lords were still alive. Not anymore though, it's supposed to be impossible, yet somehow…'

'Why'd the Tardis shut down?' Rose asked. 'She kind of just… died. Like she doesn't have power anymore.'

'The Tardis gets her energy from the centre of the universe itself, but we're not in our universe. Different energy, she can't use it.'

'So how're we going to get back? We can get back right?' Rose asked, looking at the Doctor with large, worried eyes.

'We'll figure out a way,' the Doctor said. 'Don't worry, I'll get you back.'

'Yeah you better,' Rose said. 'But Sherlock and John, they're in the 2012, not the 1800's. And John doesn't have a moustache, which is rather disappointing.'

'In every parallel universe, everything is just slightly different. So there's probably a universe out there with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's version of Sherlock and John and there are universe's, like ours where they don't exist at all,' the Doctor said. 'But yeah, you're right; the lack of moustache is kind of disappointing.'

Rose laughed. 'Wait, if this is a parallel universe, wouldn't we exist somewhere in here?'

'Mm, maybe. Like I said: everything is slightly different. It could be possible that you don't exist, or that I died with the rest of the Time Lords or that the Time Lords didn't die out at all. But we're not meddling here, it's dangerous,' the Doctor warned.

'More dangerous than usual?' Rose asked.

'Much more. We don't want to be changing anything, or… or running into ourselves here. It's already risky being in a parallel universe, we don't want to meet ourselves,' the Doctor said. 'But other than the possibility of a paradox that could rip apart both universes, there's nothing to worry about!'

Sherlock pushed open the front doors of Buckingham Palace and ran out into the streets of London with John trailing after him. With a good eye, Sherlock searched the crowds for a strange man in a long coat and a blonde in a short denim skirt.

John sighed. 'Great, we've lost them. I wonder who they were.'

'We haven't lost them just yet,' Sherlock said and pulled his phone out of his pocket. 'They'll have to come back for that blue box sometime, I doubt they're just leaving it there. I'll get some people to watch the doors so we'll know when they come back.'

'Who're going to get that will sit there and watch doors for you?' John asked.

'The homeless network of course,' Sherlock said, returning the phone to his pocket and beginning to walk, headed in the direction of their flat.

'Of course,' John said with a roll of his eyes, jogging to catch up with Sherlock.

'What did you think of that man John?' Sherlock asked as they walked through the streets.

'Uh, he was too hyper and excitable at everything, like being in London is something new to him, or he didn't expect to be here. He also has a horrible sense of dress, that pinstripe suit with that jacket. Yet he doesn't care or doesn't seem to notice what he's wearing looks out of place or odd. When you asked "doctor who" he seemed almost scared or angry, like it was something he expected or was anticipating but wasn't looking forward to. But he bounced out of it really quickly.'

'Hmm, yes,' Sherlock said. 'Good eye John. Well, come on, let's go find Lestrade, see if we can dig up anything in the police files about this man.'

John followed Sherlock on short legs, huffing as he ran after the taller man. They twisted through the busy streets, doing their best to hail a cab. After a minute or two (and quite a bit of swearing) a cab pulled up next to them and the doors unlocked.

'Finally,' Sherlock muttered, holding the door open for John and then climbing in after him. He gave the address to the cabbie and pulled out his Blackberry, typing quickly. John searched the streets for the blonde and the man as the sped pass the streets, but to no avail. The couple had practically vanished into thin air, in the same manner their strange blue box had appeared.

Lestrade's phone beeped, alerting him that he had a message. Busy with work, he ignored it and continued typing out his report. When it beeped again less than two minutes later, he sighed and pushed away from his report. The screen flashed, letting him know that it was Sherlock trying to communicate with him.

He opened the first message: Lestrade, John and I will be at your office in five minutes, we need information on a man called "The Doctor" and a girl named Rose Tyler.

Stomach plummeting, he opened the next message from Sherlock: Lestrade, you better have any information you can find on them ready when we get there.

Saving and closing his report, Lestrade went back to his phone. He dialed a number and pressed the device to his ear. On the third ring, the older Holmes' brother picked up. "Mycroft Holmes," the man said by way of greeting.

"Mycroft," Lestrade's tone was urgent. "Sherlock is asking about the Doctor."