HEY THERE! So I couldn't really write at work today, cause I was busy. Damn people wanting their damn liquor.
But I still managed to get this written!
"Oh no, I detest field work." Mycroft said, looking at the note written in his own hand writing, "Where did you get this?"
"From you... Well your alternate you..." The Doctor replied, sitting on Mycroft's desk.
"Right, listen.. Doctor, if that's your name, and trust me when I say I will discover your real one... If you've gotten my brother to believe your illogical lies, that's wonderful. But I am not so easily swayed by theatrics and..."
"Mycroft, you just watched a box appear before your eyes! They have the coordinates of Moriarty's location and they came to you to catch him!" Lestrade shouted, "Would you stop being so bloody obtuse!"
"Obtuse?" Mycroft asked, laughing lightly, he rolled his eyes and stood from his desk, "Fine, I'll play along. Let's go into the tiny blue box."
"Thank you!" The Doctor smiled. Mycroft stepped around his brother and John and walked into the TARDIS.
"So... Not tiny, then." He expressed upon stepping through the doors and surveying his surroundings.
"Oh, hello again!" River waved from the control panel, "Come to catch a criminal mastermind?" Mycroft gaped at the sight before him.
"So, Mr. Holmes... What say we go fetch James Moriarty?" The Doctor half smiled, passing the bewildered man on his way in.
"Coming Lestrade?" Sherlock asked, turning to the box.
"What the hell." He replied, following John, "Blimey! This place is much bigger than it looks from the outside." He exclaimed, shutting the doors behind him.
"Indeed it is, Gary." Sherlock said, smirking slightly. Lestrade let out a huff.
"It's Greg... Tell me Doctor, how'd you manage to squeeze all this in here?" The D.I. asked the Doctor who flipped a switch and turned toward them.
"Time Lord technology." He replied simply.
"Time what?"
"He's an alien." Amy said from the other side of the room.
"From outer space!?" He said to John, "Or is he here illegally? Because it's not my department, but I do have to report him."
"Yes, Lestrade, he's from outer space." John answered, "Actually he's from a whole different universe."
"Yes, there is no evidence to support the existence of aliens in this universe. Right, Mycroft?" Sherlock said.
"Precisely." Mycroft sat on the steps in the console room next to Amy and Rory.
"Say, Lestrade... Will you call the Yard in on this?" Sherlock asked, the man turned to him, mouth agape.
"You want me to bring in the professionals?"
"I'd hardly call Sally Donovan a professional..." Sherlock snapped, "But I would like to have some backup around... Just in case..."
"Just in case what?" Lestrade asked.
"Oh can't you see it?" Mycroft said, "He doesn't want to risk Dr. Watson's life."
"What? Well, obviously, but that's never made him bring us in before." Lestrade said, looking at the detective.
"The way they lean in toward each other, the way they move together, even the way they look at each other..." Mycroft pointed out, "It would seem these two have recently made a confession to one another."
"A confession about what?" Lestrade asked again.
"Really now, how do you solve any crimes?" Mycroft asked, "They've professed their undying love and affection for one another." He revealed, with a rather bored tone to his voice.
"Oh." Lestrade said, taking his phone out, "I'd better call Donovan and get her to bring a team to... Uh, where are we going, Doctor?" He gave the flatmates one last look and went over to the Doctor.
"So I guess the cat's out of the bag then." John said, looking at Sherlock.
"I thought we decided it's always been out of the bag to everyone but us?" He asked, as he and John stared at each other.
"We should go to Angelo's soon. He'll be thrilled." John said as they began laughing.
"Sentiment brings out immaturity in everyone, does it not?" Mycroft said, turning to the Ponds.
"That's what makes it great." Rory said, grabbing Amy's hand. He looked down excitedly, noticing his voice had dropped significantly, "Amy!"
"We're back!" She exclaimed, kissing him.
"Ugh, why do I constantly surround myself with these people?" Mycroft rolled his eyes and stood, only to be knocked back down again by the jerking of the TARDIS, "What's happening?"
"Mycroft doesn't know what's going on, oh that's new!" Sherlock said, walking up to his brother, John close behind.
"Don't patronize me, Sherlock, it's very unbecoming."
"Oh be nice you two. Sibling rivalries are really very immature." Amy said, smiling, "We've just taken off, probably heading back to fetch Moriarty."
"How do you all know this man?" Mycroft asked, turning back to the ginger.
"We're from a different universe..."
"Exactly, if you're from a universe that's not this one, how do you know so much?"
"It's... In a book, back home." Amy said, unsure if she should tell him.
"A book about Sherlock Holmes and company?" He asked, his face unreadable, "Well who would be interested in that?"
...DOOWEEWOO...
James Moriarty was sitting in a room, it was dim and the light above him flickered, trying desperately to stay on. His suit was wrinkled and dirty and his face was contorted as he carved something into the desk in front of him.
"Hey uh, boss..." A man knocked on the door.
"What is it?" He sang, not looking up from his knife.
"There's uh... Something you should see." He came into the room, carrying a laptop. He sat it down in front of Jim, on the screen was a video feed, "This just showed up out of nowhere. I'm not really sure how." Moriarty smirked.
"Well then maybe you should figure it out!" He shouted and the man jerked back, he left the laptop and rushed out of the room. Moriarty leaned in close to the computer screen and laughed as he saw the door opening. The man who'd just left him ran into the room only to be knocked out by an unseen force. He watched as several people piled out of the mysterious box, a large grin forming on his face "Oh honey, you're home."
He pushed back the computer on the desk, finishing his last word, he got up, buttoning his blazer. Before leaving he turned and observed his handy work.
On the desk he'd carved four simple words over and over:
John Watson must die.
I'm just doing so many crazy things.
Review, review, review! If you'd like to! [=
