"– And the vicious lightning storms plaguing New York are still, as of yet, unexplained. What we want to know is how are these storms being created when there's not a cloud in the sky? And should we be worried? But so far, the experts down at the National Weather Service have nothing for us yet."

Sam frowned at the TV. He'd known that he wouldn't get anything good from the News, they apparently knew nothing. But he'd had to try.

In the end, though, it had told him nothing.

However, Sam wasn't about to give up. He knew that something wasn't right. These storms were practically impossible, what with the lack of clouds in the sky when they happened, and yet they happened anyway. Therefore it was definitely somehow related to the supernatural. It'd just be nice if they had clues. Was it the angels? Demons? Some other creature, perhaps? He had no idea. And while Bobby and Dean were shrugging it off as nothing, Sam knew better.

Something wasn't right.

Sighing heavily, he switched the TV off and slunk to the kitchen to grab another beer. Dean and Bobby had run off looking for info on a possible job, but Sam wasn't optimistic about it. It was a just a prank and he knew it, but since when did Bobby and Dean ever listen to him? He shook his head and returned to the living room, only to freeze as he spotted the familiar blue police box sitting smack in the middle of it.

And of course, that was right when Bobby and Dean returned.

"Hey, Sammy, it seems you – holy shit!" His brother exclaimed, bringing up his gun in surprise at the large blue box in the middle of their living room. But as recognition hit him he relaxed, lowering his gun, and stared. "Is – is that what I think it is?"

"I think so," Sam replied, taking a few steps toward it.

"What is going on?" Bobby asked roughly. "And what is that thing in the middle of my house?"

"It belongs to a friend of ours." Dean explained, "Remember the guy we told you about from that job in London? The Doctor?"

"Oh, yeah, him." Bobby sighed. "Aliens. Never woulda believed it."

"Doctor?" Sam called out, inching closer to the TARDIS. "Doctor, is that you?"

Suddenly the door swung open, and out popped Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and . . . some unfamiliar man in a knee-length green coat and red bowtie.

"Well!" The man with the bowtie exclaimed, grinning widely. "Fancy meeting you here!"

A few silent moments passed before Dean stepped forward, shotgun at the ready, and frowned at them. "Who are you?" He demanded of the bowtie-man, "And where is the Doctor?"

"This is the Doctor," Sherlock said a matter-of-factly.

". . . What?"

Sherlock sighed heavily, "It's a primary function of the Time Lords, it seems. When they are about to die they regenerate instead, thus cheating death. The only problem is that when they do regenerate then everything else about them, save for their memories, changes. So that's why he looks different."

"I'm still me, though." The Doctor offered helpfully.

"Dean," Sam put a hand on the barrel of his gun, lowering it. "Come on."

Dean sighed and glared at the Doctor. "That's not normal, you know. What kind of person changes when they're about to die so they can live?"

"Whoever said I was normal?" The Doctor grinned.

"Does your personality change too?" Sam wondered.

"Yes."

"The only thing he seems to retain besides his memories is his knack for getting into trouble." John piped in.

"That sounds complicated." Dean made a face, "Okay. Can we change the subject now? The last thing I want to talk about is alien bodily functions."

"Why don't we talk about the lightning, then?"

Dean glared at his brother.

"Lightning?" Sherlock's eyes brightened, his interest piqued. "What do you mean?"

"In New York, mainly," Sam explained, "There have been these strange lightning storms. No rain, just lightning and thunder."

"What's so odd about that? There are often lightning storms like that in the summer." John scoffed.

"Yes, of course. But do they often happen when there aren't any clouds?"

". . . Uh."

"Exactly," Sam said. "Suddenly, and without cause, there will be a lightning storm in New York while the sky is devoid clouds. They will happen two, maybe even three, times a day, and they only last a few seconds. No one can explain them, and even though Bobby and Dean keep waving it off as nothing –" he gave the two a pointed look, "– I know that something isn't right here. Something is going on."

The Doctor smiled. "Well, I think that deserves an investigation, at the very least, don't you?" He glanced at Dean. "Why would you ever think that something like that was unimportant? Lightning with no clouds? How exciting!"

Bobby sighed. "So are we going to New York City, then?"

"Seems like," Dean replied.

"Interesting." Sherlock murmured.

John rolled his eyes.

"Hold on, where is Castiel?" The Doctor asked. "He should come with us! We could use his help on this."

"I haven't seen him in a few days." Dean said.

"That's somewhat troublesome." Sherlock observed.

"Well, give me a moment and I'll call him." Dean closed his eyes, looking awkward, and waved his hands about a bit. John raised an eyebrow. The Doctor smothered a grin. "Oh Castiel," Dean began, "I pray you get your holy ass down here right now because we've got some serious shit going down."

"Smooth." John commented dryly.

"Is he coming?" The Doctor wondered.

Sam shrugged. "Unless he's right in the middle of something, he usually comes right away."

The soft sound of wings suddenly made them all quiet down, and then Castiel was there, his trench coat fluttering around his ankles as he glanced purposefully at Dean and then glanced at the rest of them. "Hello."

"Oh, Cas! Good to see you again!" The Doctor crowed. "How are you?"

"I am well, Doctor." Castiel smiled at him, "And you?"

"Oh, good, good."

Dean gestured helplessly at the Doctor. "Cas, you're not, uh, surprised to see him like this?"

"I know of the functions of Time Lords."

"Oh, gee, thanks. Would it have killed ya to tell us that?"

Castiel shrugged. "It didn't seem important at the time."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," Sherlock interrupted, "Enough dawdling, we should get going."

"Quite right!" The Doctor said gleefully, "Everyone; into the TARDIS."

"Oh, hell no." Bobby said immediately. "If you expect me to get into some freaky alien time machine, you got your head on backwards, boy."

"Boy?" The Doctor echoed. In all of his travels, no one had ever called him that. He was a nine-hundred-plus year old alien from a different planet. Hell, a different galaxy! And yet this man who was barely in his fifties was calling him boy? How odd.

"I ain't goin' nowhere in that alien contraption, I'd much rather stay here."

"Bobby," Sam implored. "Come on, we could really use your help on this job."

"Then call me!" Bobby shook his head and sat down at his desk stubbornly. "Nothin' you idjits say will get me to change my mind. I'm stayin' here."

"Well, he's adamant." Dean said. "Seriously, we couldn't move him even if we had a forklift."

"I see." The Doctor gave Bobby a flourishing bow. "It was nice meeting you, then, Bobby."

After the rest gave him their farewells, they piled into the TARDIS. The Winchesters looked around in awe at how it had changed. It didn't even look like the same TARDIS! It was so much more modern-looking than the old one, and sleeker, too!

"Was that old TARDIS a vintage, or something?" Sam asked.

"Sort of," The Doctor grinned. "I'd had that one since my ninth regeneration."

"Just make sure to set the time right on this go, Doctor." Sherlock called from the other side of the control panel. "We wouldn't want to land a few hundred years in the future, now would we?"

"Uh, do you do that often?" Dean wondered nervously. "Go off course like that, I mean?"

"Oh, occasionally." The Doctor smiled, "But it's really only if I have other matters that the TARDIS deems more pressing."

"Ah."

The Doctor's smile turned mischievous as he spun a few dials on the control panel and flipped a lever up. The large hourglass-like contraption in the middle of the panel began to move, and the familiar whooshing of the TARDIS filled their ears as the floor shook beneath them.

"Geronimo!" The Doctor exclaimed, and then they were off.

But if they'd had any idea what awaited them there, they would've been a bit more careful.