A/N: Hello my beautiful readers! Still kicking and trying to make up for my ridiculous procrastination. Still don't own Superwholock but it's still my favorite mash up. Enjoy this next chapter and as always, reviews are my motivation!

October 2015

"You can't keep telling me your best people are on it and just expect me to sit idly by and wait. It's been two months and no progress has been made!" Sherlock spat. He was pacing his flat angrily while his brother sat on the couch utterly relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, one hand spinning his umbrella on the floor. John was sitting in his armchair with his head propped on his hands which were propped up on his knees. Mary was sitting in Sherlock's chair, Rosie on her lap chewing on a giant stuffed brain stem cell.

"Sherlock, you need to be patient. Hunting monsters is a dangerous, time consuming task-" Mycroft began.

"And so is hunting serial killers and bombers!" Sherlock raged. "I would have found her by now but you keep hiding pertinent information from me so I can't leave!"

"You would also be dead and I refuse to let that happen!" Mycroft snapped back. He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Then he stood up and leaned on his umbrella. "My people have made contact and are planning their attack. Be patient, you will get your girlfriend back."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "She's not my-oh why bother. Get out," he grumbled plopping unceremoniously onto his desk chair. Mycroft just shook his head and left without another word. Mary glanced between her husband and Sherlock, a big stupid grin plastered on her face. John was trying not to smile with her and failing spectacularly.

"Quit smirking, it's audible," Sherlock snapped. Mary snorted.

"I know this is frustrating but in this case we quite literally know nothing and presumably Mycroft knows everything," John said trying to assuage his friend's irritation. "Molly saved your life. He's not bound to forget that in hurry."

Sherlock's shoulders sagged as he sighed and spun his body lengthwise over the chair handles to lie across it awkwardly. "I know. I just hate feeling so useless!"

"Well, if you snog Molly senseless when Mycroft returns her I doubt she'll care you didn't rescue her," Mary giggled.

"Why would I do that?" Sherlock asked in genuine confusion. Mary responded with a loud guffaw that made Rosie jump and stare at her mother for a moment, brain stem cell falling limply from her mouth. John chuckled.

"I'll tell you when you're older, mate," he said setting Mary off again. Rosie began to giggle in response to her mother's laughter.

Knock, knock ,knock, knock, knock. John and Mary stopped laughing. Sherlock lifted an eyebrow and stared at the door upside down.

"Were you expecting someone?" John asked.

"No, must be a client."

He hopped up suddenly and walked over to the door. He opened it with a flourish to reveal a middle aged woman with curly blonde hair, blue-green eyes and a large strange-looking gun on her right hip standing just outside. She stood with confidence he'd only ever seen in Irene Adler; this woman knew her place in the world and she walked with pride in that knowledge. She wore strange tan-colored clothes that were certainly not in style now nor anything from the recent past. He eyes roved up him with clear appreciation.

"Not bad, Mr. Holmes," she said with a wink. A flirt. Not his favorite kind of person. They tended to push things past his comfort zone.

"What do you want?" he asked brusquely.

"Oo, not very friendly," the woman remarked sauntering past him into his flat. No sense of respect or personal space.

"Bit cluttered," she commented looking around the room. "Must be a genius thing."

She suddenly spun around to face the detective again. "I'm here to pass along a message."

"From whom?" Sherlock asked suspiciously.

"A friend." The woman said evasively. "Your brother's best operatives have been compromised or they will be soon. Timelines are hard to keep track of. I can get you to them."

"How do you know all of this?" John asked. "You aren't one of Moriarty's demon friends are you?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I'm sure she would have killed us already if she were."

"I've never encountered a demon but I suppose there's a first time for everything. I'm parked downstairs. I'd say we should leave quickly but it doesn't really matter," the woman said with a laugh heading back to the door. The other three watched her leave perplexed. She popped her head back in a moment later. "There is still a sense of urgency even so. Chop chop! Let's go! Allons-y!" And she was gone again.

"She's completely mental," John said shaking his head.

"She's completely sane," Sherlock said distractedly. He threw his robe off and grabbed his scarf and Belstaff. "I'm going with her."

"What? Why?" John demanded. Sherlock looked at him. There was something in his expression that John had never seen before-or perhaps had only seen once or twice-both occasions when Sherlock thought he was going to die. He was scared and desperate and willing to do whatever it took to get his friend back.

"This may be my only chance to save Molly. I'm not going to pass it up. It's my fault she was targeted," Sherlock explained.

"We're coming with you," Mary said standing up.

"Of course-wait, oh no, what about Rosie?" John asked his wife.

"I'll just leave her with Mrs. Hudson," Mary said. "She has a key to Sherlock's flat and he has extra nappies, formula and toys. They'll be fine."

"Yoo hoo! Sherlock, why is there a police box in my foyer?" Mrs. Hudson asked poking her head into the doorway.

"Police box?" John asked.

"They were used in the 1950's and 60's to hold criminals or to call for help," Sherlock supplied unhelpfully. "There's one in the foyer you say? How very intriguing."

Sherlock pushed passed Mrs. Hudson and hurried down the stairs. Sure enough, huddled in the corner was a blue police box with its roof light on.

"How did that fit through the front door?" John asked coming up behind Sherlock. The door to the police box sprang open and the curly-haired woman poked her head out.

"Are you coming or not?" she asked.

"In there?" John asked. "That's not a vehicle."

"Sure it is," the woman said cheerfully. "It's the best kind there is!"

John stepped around Sherlock and onto the landing. She stepped out leaning on the door frame of the box. John poked her in the chest.

"Look lady, our friend is in real trouble. We don't have time to play-holy shit!" John shouted as the woman rolled her eyes and yanked him into the box by his collar. He back peddled out and hit the banister though he hardly seemed to notice as he stared wide-eyed at the police box.

"How-that's not bloody possible-bigger-" he stammered.

"John?" Mary asked rushing down the stairs and placing a hand on his face. "What happened?"

"Neat, huh?" the woman said coming back out to lean on the door jamb again. Sherlock glared and jumped the last few steps.

"What have you got in there?" he demanded.

"Well, a pool for starters," the woman said with a smile. Sherlock continued to glare unamused.

"You are terribly boring," the woman said. "What have I got in there? All of time and space right at my fingertips. Go ahead and take a look yourself."

She swung her arms toward the interior with a sarcastic flourish moving aside to let him in. Sherlock stormed inside intending to deduce something useful about her from her strange box. Then he stopped dead in his tracks three steps in. It was like the deck of a cruise ship had been crammed inside of a box-but but somehow hadn't been crammed at all. It was perfectly spacious. It had low lighting but he was able to make out a ramp leading up to a round console with a large clear tube in the center that lit up. There were tiers above that were covered in circular runes he didn't recognize.

He backed out of the box and looked around the right and left sides. Then he stepped back inside. His face was completely expressionless but inside he was in panic mode. It was like the werewolf all over again. He didn't know how to process this. He had a feeling that some sort of advanced physics was involved but he was a chemist. He wasn't familiar with more than the basics of physics.

"Whoa," he heard Mary say behind him. "Nice ship."

"Why do you say ship" Sherlock hear himself ask noting Mary didn't seemed phased at al.

"Well, it kind of reminds me of Star Trek," Mary explained. "It is a space ship, yes?"

"Oo, I like you, Smart and fearless," the curly-haired woman said. "Yes, this is the best ship in the universe."

"Why does it look like a police box?" Sherlock asked.

"It's a disguise," the woman stage-whispered. She climbed up to the console and ran her hand along it affectionately. "I'll admit it's not a very good one but she's old and the Chameleon Circuit needs fixing but no one ever seems to notice her."

"Hmm, well, I'm going to go get Rosie settled with Mrs. Hudson and grab my terrified husband," Mary said stepping back out of the ship. The curly-haired woman began pushing several buttons and flipping several switches. Sherlock barely noticed this as he continued to try and comprehend just exactly what it was he was seeing.

"Thanks Mrs. Hudson!" Mary called over her shoulder as she pushed John into the ship and closed the door. John didn't fight her. He just mouthed wordlessly as he tried to process what he was seeing. Once the door was shut the curly-haired woman threw a large handled-shaped lever down. The light in the center tube began to oscillate up and down. Sherlock watched the woman dance around the console with ease and grace he had only seen in Molly as she worked in the morgue. In fact, besides the few initial deductions that reminded him of Irene, this woman was reminding him more and more of Molly. She may have initially come off confident like Irene but he noticed that every now and then she let the mask slip revealing a very fragile, scared and broken woman beneath. She was someone who had endured heartbreak after heartbreak but never let it show. She was always the strong one even as she was being torn down; just like Molly.

"Do you like what you see, Mr. Holmes?" The woman asked cheekily.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Professor River Song," she replied.

"And what's a professor doing with a space ship?" he asked.

"It's my husband's," she answered.

"Where did your husband get a spaceship? Certainly not here," Sherlock said continuing to wheedle what he could from her.

"It helps when your husband is from a different planet. Now, I believe we have landed in Pennsylvania."

She threw the big handle switch back up. The light stopped bobbing. She hit a buttons and then proceeded down the ramp. John and Mary were still by the door. John had finally closed his mouth. River opened the door.

"Oh dear," she said stepping out. Sherlock pushed the door open wide. They were parked outside an old church with yellow crime scene tape all around it. River was talking to some local policeman. Sherlock hurried over to them.

"It was a blood bath," one of the cops was saying. "Even the children were slaughtered."

"And you're sure it's the same girl as the bars?" River asked.

"Absolutely, the FBI agents who took her in positively identified her."

"And who was this agent?" River asked sweetly. The cop scrunched up in his face in thought.

"Um, Special Agent Cooper and MI5 operative code name "The Doctor" , I believe."

"Scotland Yard thanks you," River said before sauntering off. She grabbed Sherlock's wrist on her way past him forcing him to follow her.

"We missed them but they were definitely here," River said keeping her voice low.

"How do you know?" Sherlock asked. He was getting irritated asking all the questions. He much preferred to just know.

"Because MI5 operative code name: The Doctor is my husband," she said going back through the open ship door. Sherlock pulled himself free from her grasp and stopped outside the door. The ship was completely invisible.