"Fine" John grumbled, sitting down at his usual place. " It's not that you're the only one acting strange today. In fact the man I encountered downstairs at the cafe, doesn't even seem half as weird anymore now."

"What man?" he suddenly heard his friends voice from the shadow of the door frame behind him.

John turned around in his chair, but could only spot a glimpse of Sherlock.

"So, now you want to talk."

"John, focus," Sherlock retorted impatient."tell me about the man."

"He came into Speedy's not long ago today, with a red haired woman," John began, settling back into his chair, waiting for his friend to sit down too. But Sherlock didn't move away from the door frame, so John continued.

"He acted like he knew us, the owners of Speedy's and me, but when he noticed our lack of response, he laid a hand on my chest, and afterwards his fingers against the temples of one of the owners, talking some totally weird stuff about just having one heart,Timelord consciousness and trying to find out what had happened to us. He left shorty after that."

A short silence spread between the two men, then Sherlock re-entered the living room and John noticed his pale complexion. His friend grabbed his coat, slipped it on and was at the stairs before John could say anything.

"Come on, we have to find this man," he heard Sherlock shouting back at him.

When John caught up with his friend in front of their building, Sherlock looked up and down the street, observing the people passing by.

"Can you tell me, how do you want to find him?" John wanted to know. "We don't know a name or an address?"

"He didn't have a car and he didn't hail a cab, right?" Sherlock asked and he nodded.

"He has to stay somewhere close or at least in walking distance, especially if he wants to visit Speedy's again. And from what you told me, he'll definitely coming back. So let's visit some of my contacts and see if one of them noticed something out of place."

While Sherlock and John started to walk down Baker Street, they were watched from a hidden place across the street.

"So it is him, the tall and handsome one?" Donna asked, and the Doctor nodded, his gaze never leaving the man in question.

It wasn't that often, that the red haired woman had seen the Timelord as emotional as he was now, but she knew why, he had told her just minutes ago, and it was more than understandable.

"You just had to go over and tell him," she reminded him softly.

The Doctor turned around and shook his head.

"He wouldn't have recognized me, Donna," he replied sighing. "Remember, their memories are a scrambled mess, no way he would have believed me."

"If he's anything like you, he would have at least heard you out." Donna reasoned, but the Doctor had already abandoned their hiding place and crossed the street. She had to hurry, to catch up with him at the door to 221b Baker Street.

"What? Don't tell me you want to break in?" she demanded to know.

"Where else could we find what we are looking for?" he gave back, while getting out his sonic screwdriver and holding it against the lock. Only seconds later the door was opened by an elderly woman.

"Finally. I've waited for you long enough," she said and smiled.

Sometime later, it had gotten dark already, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson stood in front of an ordinary looking, blue police box. It didn't seem out of place, nestled into a small side road, not far away from their home, but nonetheless Sherlock found it odd that it was there. A feeling he couldn't understand.

"It's just an old police box," John stated slightly irritated. "So why don't we go back home already?"

He was worried about his friend, who was unusually quiet and seemed in pain, he tried his best not to show. But John was a Doctor and he recognized the signs of it.

„Can't you see it," Sherlock asked back instead of answering John's question. He walked around the police box once and then stopped in front of the door. "This is a clever camouflage, looking entirely ordinary and nothing special. No one would think twice about it being here."

Then he reached out to open the blue police box, but when he touched the door, the pain in his chest flared up again, nearly knocking him over, if it wasn't for John, holding him on his feet.

"Sherlock!" he heard his friends panicked voice as he fell into darkness. Before John could get his cell out and call for help, someone knocked him out from behind.