a/n: Yay for quick updates!

First off, thank you for all the lovely reviews. I wouldn't be continuing this unless you guys told me otherwise, so thank you.

Second - the Harry Potter fans will spot the magical item I threw in here ;) the mention of this item might actually inspire a new fanfic in the future. Who knows.

Enjoy! I really do try not to make cliffhangers, but it's in my blood.


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..

.

None of them knew what exactly was going to happen next – not even the Doctor or Sherlock. Yes, Sherlock probably had eight or nine outcomes forming in that amazing mind of his, but anything could happen.

John wasn't nervous of course – being in Afghanistan had trained him to block out emotions like nervousness or fear. He sat himself down on the sand, taking deep breaths to calm those nerves.

The Doctor had mumbled something earlier about needing to get that one thing in that one place in the Tardis and dragged Amy off with him inside. They had been searching for a couple minutes now. John wondered curiously what he could be trying to find at a time like this.

John heard footsteps coming up from behind and Sherlock stopped beside him, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat.

"This is insane, Sherlock." John muttered with a shake of his head.

A smile touched the consulting detective's lips. "It's either this or my boredom."

They both laughed a little together, remembering all the bullet holes in the flat's walls. It was true – John preferred this Sherlock instead of the bored one.

The sound of approaching voices and footsteps snapped them out of the moment. John stood up, brushing the sand from his pants. The Doctor stopped in front of them, smiling big. "I found it!"

"Found what, exactly?" Sherlock asked.

The Doctor held up a clear, plastic bag – similar to the ones you would hold a goldfish in. It was half-way filled with water. Settled on the bottom was a mass of what resembled slimy, green weeds.

John blinked in confusion. "What is it?"

Amy leaned forward, smiling at him. "Gillyweed."

John raised a brow, waiting for more a more detailed explanation. Sherlock did the same, a smirk on his face.

"Gillyweed!" the Doctor said loudly. "A plant that comes from the Mediterranean Sea! When eaten, one can basically sprout gills and webbed limbs!" He gave a little shrug. "Of course, originally it only works for witches or wizards, but I have a connection and he was able to experiment a bit to-"

"Hang on," John interrupted. "Did you just say…wizard?"

Amy winced. "Doctor, I told you to leave that part out. It only causes more confusion."

"Sorry…"

John looked up at Sherlock, who had been strangely quiet, the past couple of minutes of this conversation. His eyebrows were knitted together in concentration. "Gillyweed." He said, mulling the word over on his tongue.

Sherlock then gave a curt nod – no doubt shoving down words and statements to go against the logic of the substance in the Doctor's grasp. "How long does it work?"

The Doctor smiled a little. "My source told me it can last up to an hour in fresh water. No idea on the duration of it in salt water though." He started to untie the plastic bag.

"So," Amy threw in, "That means we have to be quick about it. We have enough in the bag to get us wherever we need to go down there," She nodded towards the water, "And enough to get back."

The Doctor handed them each a little round of Gillyweed. It was wrapped up loosely, and disgustingly reminded him of rat tails. He then drained the water out of the bag, tied it back up, and shoved it deep in his pocket.

"Bottoms up!" Eleven said cheerfully, throwing the substance in his mouth. The other three mimicked his actions.

John felt the urge to gag as it slowly slid down his throat. He bent over and gasped for air. It felt as if all the oxygen was being sucked from his lungs – from his whole body, for that matter. The doctor felt the overwhelming dizziness.

"John!"

John looked up to find the others diving into the water. Amy and the Doctor must have already been used to it – shoving down that urge to throw up. Sherlock stood on the rocks. He had stripped his heavy coat off, along with his shoes. Thinking it was a good idea; John did the same, and then ran at full speed to the water. He had no idea what was going to happen.

Sherlock hurriedly grabbed John's wrist, and they jumped together.

...

..

Cold.

That is the first word John could think of at the moment as the water rushed around him, engulfing him in darkness. He found that he had no need to hold his breath – for the Gillyweed was unbelievably working. Touching his fingers softly to his neck, John felt…gills.

John's eyes adjusted to the water's lack of light, and he saw the Doctor already advancing deeper, Amy's fiery red hair following after him. A tug at his wrist brought him back to his senses, and John swam after Sherlock.

...

..

The Doctor did not know how long they had been swimming for, but he guessed it was getting closer to the hour than he would've preferred.

The last time he had been here, the water had been crystal clear and tropical warm. The water people were happy instead of depressing and cold. He momentarily wondered if they would remember him.

Eleven started to recognize some of the land(water?)marks around him, and knew he was getting closer.

It came into view then – the water city. Rocks and coral formed into architecture. It was darker than last time -no doubt. Seaweed and moss clung to most of it, giving it an old and worn out look. But to the Doctor – it was fascinating, beautiful, unique. Like always.

He looked back at the other three, who were staring with wonder.

And then shadows around them suddenly took shape and split apart.

They were surrounded.