So here's part II…or more accurately, "Lestrade's Perspective". If part I left you slightly confuzzled, hopefully I can clear up some things in this section.

And this is the last part. I'm not adding anything more to this. It came to my head, I thought it'd be funny, so I wrote it. I intended it to be a one-shot (these aren't so much two different chapters as it is the same chapter from two different perspectives), and that's how it's going to stay.

Thank you to all who read/favorited/followed/commented, or will do so in the future. :)

God bless and have a great day (or night)!
ThePro-LifeCatholic

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, nor do I own BBC Sherlock. If that were the case, I would've tried really hard to get the 10th Doctor to meet Sherlock, seeing as Ten happens to be my favorite Doctor. That, and John Riddell and Greg Lestrade would've been revealed to be the same person during some really climatic part of a Doctor Who and/or Sherlock episode. Wholock, you guys. :)

The night before the time-frame of the chapter before this one…

Sherlock, John, and Sally would have to cut Lestrade some slack; he really did get his vacation days mixed up. He knew he had a couple days of freedom sometime during that current month; he just couldn't remember if it had been in the third week or the second week.

Turns out it was the third week.

He had shrugged it off, though, even after realizing his mistake. He had something much more pressing at hand, an event which he had attempted to schedule months ago. A few days of work could be sacrificed for the sake of such an important affair.

So after coming home from another stressful day at Scotland Yard, Greg Lestrade dumped his briefcase on the bed. The suit followed, and Lestrade went to his closet. Pushing past boring formal attire, he pulled a very Indiana-Jones-styled vest from the back corner of his wardrobe. Also tucked in the back was a fedora and a large canvas backpack, already packed. Greg grinned as he dusted off the hat and placed it on his head. On went the vest and a comfortable pair of khakis (both articles of clothing were equipped with an abundance of pockets).

Next, he crouched down next to the bed, peering into the dark space beneath. He pulled out a large, oddly shaped case and plopped it down on the bed. Snapping up the locks, he opened it. Almost lovingly, he lifted a large, very futuristic-looking gun from the case. He polished it, then placed it back with great care. Grabbing the case, shouldering the knapsack, adjusting his fedora, Greg took one final look about the place.

"Be back in a bit," he promised the emptiness. With a huge smile, he ducked into the outdoors.

Standing in the street outside, he couldn't help but wonder whether or not he was coming. How many people had he traveled with? And where were they now? Lestrade wasn't a math whiz, but it didn't take much to calculate where a and b inevitably led. Could this be the final time? Standing out here…would this be the day that he didn't show? Was last time…the last time?

A familiar, wheezing sound broke into his thoughts, and Greg's face cracked into an enormous smile. Last time wasn't last time; not this time around, anyway.

The blue box was parked on a nearby street corner. Greg ran to it, and stopped in front of the wooden doors. He started to adjust his baggage, but the doors opened (as if of their own accord), and a silhouetted figure stood on the threshold. He was wearing a tweed jacket, black pants, and matching red suspenders and bowtie.

"John Riddell!" the man chortled, flinging his arms out. Greg smiled back.

"I was thinking that maybe you weren't coming, Doctor," the DI explained, moving past the Doctor and into the blue box.

"Oh, no. Not today; not yet." With a snap of his fingers, the Doctor shut the doors. "Besides, I don't think I got to properly thank you for helping us during that dinosaur incident last time we met. And I never like to leave favors undone." The Doctor grinned, motioning behind him. "And I brought along a friend."

"Hey, Rory, look!" A redhead joined the two. "It's that Riddell guy!"

John Riddell/Greg Lestrade tipped his hat in greeting. "Nice to see you again, Amy. And please, call me John."

"Hi, John," Rory said, coming into the room. Behind him, a woman dressed like an illustration from the "Ancient Egyptian" section of a history book made her entrance.

Now, you're probably thinking that five people in a blue box would be very crowded and awkward, but not this box. It was the TARDIS, the Doctor's space-ship (the Doctor was an alien), and it was bigger on the inside.

"Hi Rory," Riddell let his gear slide to the ground. "And hello Neffy," he breathed, taking his hat off to her. "You look gorgeous," he added, "As usual."

Neffy smirked. "Nice to see you too, Riddell," she responded.

"I brought some goodies for the ladies," Greg announced, opening the knapsack and digging around inside. He procured two small packages.

"Chocolate for Amy," he said, handing the first gift to Amy. Amy and Rory quickly undid the package, and were soon helping themselves to chunks of luscious chocolate (the Doctor helped himself to a handful as well).

"And for you, Neffy," he continued, bestowing his gift to her. Neffy unwrapped her gift, and gazed at the cell phone in her palm with wonder.

"What is it?"

"A communications device, so we can stay in touch even when you're in Egypt and I'm in 21st century London." He grinned, obviously very pleased with his choice of present. The Doctor's face went hard, and he snatched the phone from Queen Nefertiti's hand.

"What's that for?" John demanded hotly.

"A queen living in Ancient Egypt with a cell phone," the Doctor ground out coldly. "What do you think?" Without waiting for a reply, the Doctor pulled out his sonic, applied it to the phone, and handed it back to the Egyptian queen.

"There you go," he said, smiling. "Now you can call anyone, anytime, anywhere, so long as you know the area code."

"Thank you, Doctor," Riddell exclaimed.

"So, Riddell, enjoying 21st century London?" the Doctor queried.

"Actually, yes."

"Itching to get back into danger?"

Greg motioned to his case, as if that were explanation enough.

"Good. Now, Riddell; what do you know about Karnfallas?"

UPDATE: I decided that this chapter was getting too long, so I'm breaking it up into two different sections. This is part 1 of that section; the next (and final) part will be added fairly soon (I'm hoping sometime tomorrow or the day after).

Thanks for your patience!