Hi again. Sorry it's late- I was watching Doctor Who and Sherlock... :) I'm also really sorry it's so short- hopefully now 'cause it's the holidays I can spend a bit more time on it, so bear with- I'm struggling because I was stupid and didn't actually think of what was going to happen before I started to write, so I'm kinda just making it up as I'm going along, and it's harder than it sounds.
It was mid-afternoon by the time the group re-entered the flat, after lunch at Angelo's. Sherlock almost immediately resumed his familiar 'thinking' position, and John sat down at his desk to write up last week's case on his blog. 'Make yourself at home,' he said, indicating to the chairs beside the fireplace. Amy and Rory took these seats, while The Doctor sat opposite John at the table.
'So? You got anything?' Rory said, apparently to either of the geniuses* in the room, as The Doctor wandered absently to the fridge, ignored the severed head taking up most of the space, and helped himself to the milk John had just bought, drinking straight out of the carton. The residents of the flat obviously experienced this a lot, because they seemed incredibly nonchalant about the whole thing.
'Err… Doctor? Maybe you shouldn't do that,' Amy said; embarrassed.
'Oh, leave him, he's fine.' John replied, waving a hand dismissively. 'I'll get some more later.'
'Well,' Sherlock said, answering belatedly to Rory's question, 'We're just looking for somewhere quite close by; I don't think they'd bother to take them that far away, so I think we should start at that factory near the river. It hasn't been used for twenty years now.
An hour later, they were standing in the wind at the door of the abandoned warehouse. Everyone was wrapped up apart from Amy, who hugged herself in attempt to stay warm, wishing she had anticipated the British weather and put more clothes on.
'Okay, how are we going to get in?' she asked. Sherlock and The Doctor sighed simultaneously, pushing lightly on the worn door. It swung open easily. To their great disappointment, it was completely empty.
'Oh.' Rory said flatly.
'There may be more to this place than first meets the eye,' Sherlock said, though he too was disappointed. This was proving to be harder than he expected. 'Why don't you go have a look around?' he added, before turning to talk to The Doctor.
Just over ten minutes had passed when John yelled, 'Doctor? Sherlock? I think we found something!' Rushing over, they watched in awe as a large, neat square of the dusty floor beside Rory's feet (he had, in fact, been standing there a moment before) slowly turned a strange metallic silver colour, and sank, to reveal a steep flight of stairs.
'Oh.' Sherlock grinned. 'This is where it gets interesting.'
They walked carefully down the silver stairs in the dim green light of the sonic screwdriver, which reflected off the metal surfaces as The Doctor scanned in an attempt to have some more warning about what might be down there.
'Yup, it's Noose, alright, but I think we may be missing something bigger… Sherlock, any ideas?'
'Six, so far…' Sherlock replied absently, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere- he exchanged a worried look with The Doctor. Looks of horror spread over the other's faces as their brains caught up to the geniuses'** and they heard heavy footsteps advancing quickly towards them.
'It's okay, I've got an amazing and …awe inspiring plan.' The Doctor whispered.
'Okay, what do we do?' Amy hissed; panicked.
'Err…Think of an amazing and awe inspiring plan?' The Doctor chuckled nervously. It was all Amy, Rory and John could do not to punch him in the face at that point. 'Don't worry- everything's going to be fine.' he said.
*Genii? What's the plural of genius?
**Seriously guys, this is bothering me.
Reviews are nice- I literally jumped up and down at the last ones- no word of a lie.