Sherlock Holmes watched in the dark room as the light from the candle changed colors. He had been experimenting with different kinds of wicks to see which would give off a different kind of glow.
John and Mary had just returned from their honeymoon out in the country.
"Sherlock!" John called, entering his old flat. The doctor walked into the room, flooding it with light.
"Close the door!" Sherlock snapped and winced as the light hit his eyes. The pupils constricting quickly and causing the detective great pain as his eyes had been in the dark for quite some time.
John sighed at his friend and opened the curtains, "Sherlock you need to get out of this room. Mrs. Hudson says you've been locked up here for days."
Sherlock grumbled and flopped onto the slightly cluttered sofa.
"Take a walk," John suggested. "Get out of the flat."
"Fine," Sherlock said, "let's go for a walk. But first let's talk about your marriage; I see that you've been sleeping very well. Mary hasn't kicked out of the bed yet has sh-."
Dr. Watson sighed at his old flatmate/friend and ushered him out the door quickly. Much to happiness of an exasperated Mrs. Hudson, who was trying to make thing presentable so that someone might rent the room bellow.
Sherlock Holmes walked down the street with his friend. The busy streets of Victorian London were filled with the noise and smells of a city from the 1800's. Smoke from the new locomotives. Bad water. Unwashed people. And then there were the sights.
Every person he saw was filled with a story that he could read off like a book.
"-ne anything interesting?" John asked.
Sherlock snapped to attention, realizing he had managed to drone out his friend with his own thoughts. "Hmm?"
"Really Sherlock, you should get out more," John said, "It isn't healthy."
For a split second however, everything seemed to blink. Sherlock blinked several times before he realized that not only were the people of London gone, but that parts of the great square were missing. And instead replaced with odd sights.
Sherlock looked about, and found he wasn't alone.
"Jonathan!" a young woman in strange clothes called out for someone baring a similar name to his ex-flatmate. "Jonathan Watson! I swear if this is some kind of prank!"
"John!" a slightly older man, about his twenties, in a black trench coat called out.
"John!" he called in a second, realizing that John wasn't there.
"Joan!" this man however called for someone else.
"Brilliant," a man was peeking out of a bright blue box. His hair spiked up in the front and a large grin on his face.
Sherlock looked around. Where had everyone gone? What had happened to London? Who were these strangely dressed people? How had this happened? Was it the man in the box? Was it one of the two men? Was it the young woman? Was it magic?
Whatever it was, Sherlock Holmes knew he was about to find out.
