Amy had slept too much the previous night and she was welcomed with another headache. It was also partly down to her busy Wednesday shift at the cafe. It had only been four hours and yet it had felt like a lifetime. She dropped her bag down noisily on the kitchen table and, inevitably, stuck the kettle on to boil. Sherlock was sat in the living room at the desk, tapping away on a laptop.

"Hang on! Is that my laptop?" Scowling, she moved over to the desk briskly, folding her arms.

"Yes."

"It's password protected."

"It wasn't that difficult to guess. You should really consider thinking of using something much less obvious. Try adding in a few numbers, as well." Briefly, he glanced at her. "I needed to check my emails."

She looked at him dumbfounded. "And why couldn't you use yours?"

"Yours was nearer."

"I never had you down as lazy, Sher- Those are not your emails." She peered over his shoulder at the screen. "That's my email account! Have you been reading my emails? Those are private!"

"Then I suggest you log out of your account next time to keep them that way."

"Yes." She closed the laptop and removed it from his possession. "Alright, smart arse." She walked away, placing the laptop in full view of her on the kitchen counter while she made green tea, all the while feeling his eyes on her.

"River Song seems like a very interesting woman," he commented. Amy could hear the rustle of a newspaper behind her.

"So you have been reading my emails!"

"Who is she?"

"A friend and that's all you need to know." She grabbed her cup of tea and strolled over to the desk to sit opposite him.

"A friend who calls you mum." His eyes were firmly fixed on the newspaper he held.

It took Amy a while to think of something to reply back with. "A private joke we have," she finally answered, really hoping he would change the subject. To that he said nothing.

"If you're so interested in me, why don't you just ask me about what you want to know?"

"Because, Amy, you are not telling me the truth."

"You don't tell me the truth either. You haven't told me a single thing about yourself since I've been here. Nothing personal, at least. You know more about me than I kn-"

The laptop chimed.

"That'll be Lestrade," said Sherlock, putting the paper down and striding across the flat to get Amy's laptop.

When he put the gadget down on the desk, Amy focused on the email. "Who is Harvey Alexander?" she asked after she had scanned the email.

"Who do you think?" He put his hands in his pockets. "Another person who has miraculously returned from the dead. Lestrade was investigating his case yesterday, now he wants me to go down to Scotland Yard and talk to this Harvey Alexander."

"I'll come."

Locked up in a cell was Harvey Alexander. "He got rowdy when we brought him in so the cells are the best place for him until he calms down," Lestrade explained, not that Sherlock cared.

Amy was lost in her thoughts for most of the journey there. Sherlock really has no idea. I do. I know it's alien. I know it's a shapeshifter. I wasn't joking.

Lestrade looked to Sherlock. "We can't seem to get anything out of him."

"And you thought I could." A wise decision.

The DI shrugged. "Something like that. Be careful. He's become very aggressive."

I wonder why, Sherlock thought. "Aggression his not a problem." He could handle an agrressive man.

"He's been asking for a doctor, as well," added Sally Donovan. "I'm starting to think he needs one." Amy had noticed Sally earlier as soon as they had arrived. There was something about the woman that made Amy dislike her. Why?

The word 'doctor' immediately caught her attention. "Let me talk to him!"

Lestrade shook his head. "I don't think that-"

"Please? I know what I am doing." She gave out a heavy sigh. "You'll be right out here anyway in case anything happens."

Lestrade surrendered to her suggestion, allowing for her to talk to the man behind the cell door. "Five minutes. Sherlock, go in with her."

He intended to. He joined Amy in the cell, facing Harvey Alexander, matching the cold stare the man gave them both.

"Come to ask me questions?" the man spat.

"Correct," said Sherlock cooly.

"You're wastin' your time. I aint answering anythin' you ask me."

"That's alright. We'll just keep you locked up then. If you want to be released - I'm asuming you do - I suggest you co-operate with me."

"Sorry, curly, but I don't wanna talk to you." Slowly, in an intimidating manner, he approached Amy. "I wanna talk to your attractive young female friend here." With a grotesque smirk he circled her, examining her up and down while she tried to keep her cool. "Yes... I can see why he chose to travel with you. It is common knowledge that the Doctor likes naughty red-heads. They speak of it through the stars. I imagine you're very naughty, Amelia Pond."

"Oh, God." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I know what you are," Amy began, staring at him firmly.

"Has he tried it on with you yet?" Harvey Alexander indicated towards Sherlock. "No. I don't think he has. Look at him. I bet he wants to though."

"I know what you are?" Amy repeated, even firmer this time. She wasn't going to let the menacing stare he gave her scare her.

"Yes, I know you do." He cracked a smile. "You're not stupid." He side-glanced Sherlock. "He thinks you are. He thinks everyone is stupid compared to himself. But he knows nothin'. You and I, we know, don't we? We know what's really out there."

"I hardly think this is relev-"

"Shut it, Mr Holmes! This doesn't concern you. Now, tell me Amy, I need to know - where is the Doctor?"

Swallowing hard, she shook her head. "I don't know."

"You lie." He edged closer to her. His breath was vile and stinking; his eyes were impatient, full of anger and betrayal.

"I'm not." She turned away from him so to avoid smelling his horrid dog-like breath. Actually, it was worse than dog breath.

"Do you know what I do?" he hissed like a snake. "Do you know how I kill them? Those poor, innocent people you found lyin' cold in the streets. Would you like to know? Joe Vidal, the other two... This man?" He smirked visciously. "I drain them. I walk through them like a ghostly shadow, drainin' their life until they drop. It happens very suddenly. You should be grateful there is no mess involved. Those Zygons, they're awful shapeshifters, leavin' orange goo everywhere..." He was beginning to trail off, but he soon snapped back into his speech. "It's easy and they don't feel a thing, luckily for them. I get a new body, I get energy to keep on livin'; they get more time to sleep, and sleep, and sleep... Do you and your friends want to sleep Amy? Because you all will if YOU DON'T TELL ME WHERE THE DOCTOR IS RIGHT NOW!"

"I don't know!" she protested. His hands were clawing at her arms and he slammed her into the wall over and over. Sherlock made to intervene, to pull him away from her; however the shapeshifter was extremely difficult to move. His stregnth was immense.

Amy's back became battered and bruised as she was constantly forced against the wall. Lestrade and other officers had heard her cries and were soon barging into the cell -

She couldn't hear what they were saying -

"WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS THAT SNIVELLIN' TIMELORD?! I WANT MY DIAMOND BACK!" the shapeshifter was screaming -

It took three officers and Sherlock to drag him away from her. "CALM DOWN!" Lestrade demanded repeatedly as 'Harvey Alexander' was being restrained.

"Are you alright?" The consulting detective went to Amy's aid, placing a warm calming hand on her shoulder. It told her that she was safe. Her breath had been knocked out of her, it took her a while to speak back.

I'm...fine -" she gasped.

"- hell is wrong with this guy?" muttered DI Lestrade.

"H-he is not... Harvey... Alexander. It is a shapeshifter... a-an alien..." she told him, trying to breathe normally.

Sherlock came across shocked. "Don't be-"

"Ridiculous?" she interjected, rather loudly. "I'm not. It's true."

"That's impossible."

"Nothing... i-is impossible, Sherlock..."

He couldn't believe that. He wouldn't believe that. He refused to.

It took a while before Lestrade had registered what she had said, but when he finally did he requested for U.N.I.T.

"Sir, you can't believe-"

Sherlock interrupted Sally. "Do as your DI says." He didn't want to believe it either. It went against everything he knew.

Watching as Sally went off in a huff, Amy realized her vision was imparing, the people around her suddenly becoming mere faceless blurs. Panic struck her. She couldn't see -

She couldn't think or feel or breathe -

"Amy?"

Gradually, she felt herself slipping away. Blackness engulfed her, dark as night. Sherlock managed to catch her before she hit the floor, concerned about her.

((That chapter was loads of fun to write!

It's quite hard to grasp Sherlock's viewpoint on aliens. I imagine he'd be quite skeptical about them, because he needs to see to believe, if that makes sense. So sorry if his reaction sucked in this.))