Days passed, nothing happened. Well, nothing except Sherlock tracking two murderers down and the milk running out several times. It was odd; normally that would've been sufficient to entertain Sherlock, but since his encounter with "The Oncoming Storm" everything seemed so dull and mundane. Every spare minute of his time, he was looking for more information on the stranger in the waistcoat and bow tie.
He researched him on the Internet, but there were very few results that featured the words 'oncoming' and 'storm' and when they did, these were not titles of mysterious men, but news of actual oncoming storms in Central America or South-East Asia. He spent hours looking at faces, seeing if just by any chance his bow tie man would be on some photograph. Sherlock, filled with hope, searched for any device that could detect whether someone was telling the truth, but none of which looked anything like the metal cylinder the bow tie man had pointed at him. He tried to find out whether those police call boxes were in any way related to transportation. When the Internet proved itself unhelpful, Sherlock started telling John that he was going to Bart's to work on a case on his own, so that he could go to the British Library and research the nameless man. What he had figured out by now was that "The Oncoming Storm" couldn't be his name. The man had told him that to put him at ease, however, Sherlock was fairly sure that the bow tie man hadn't invented that title either.
He spent the entire opening hours of the library cracking open book after book, still finding nothing that could get him any further in understanding what had happened a week before. It was as if he were the only person in the world that had ever heard of him.
At times he talked himself into the idea that he had in fact imagined the whole thing but two things stood against that: a) Sherlock did not hallucinate and b) John had seen the damage caused by the blue box as well. It wasn't an earthquake. That was sure. He had even made sure it couldn't have been.
Never before had he wanted to know something as much as now, never before had he tried to find something out with such passion and never before had his researches been so useless. He felt that if he could find out just his name, maybe then he'd leave it at that.
But maybe he wouldn't need to look; maybe the man would appear again on his own. He had to be somewhere on Earth... Then again, the man had thanked him for telling him he was on Earth. But still, if the bow tie man knew that Earth existed, chances were he'd return. Maybe he'd return to 221B, or someone else would see him. Someone with whom Sherlock could come in contact, and find out more about him. He wanted to know more so badly. He wanted to know "The Oncoming Storm's" real name, know why he called himself that, why he wore a bow tie, what his green device could do...
All he wanted was to find out something about him.
