Doctor Who: 221b Chapter 1

221 Baker Street,

London, England

October 19, 2016

The blue call box appeared in an abandoned alley way. Cautiously, a young man in a tan sports jacket and bow tie peaked out of the creaky door. Scanning the horizon he closed the door once again. Moments later, he burst out of it happily. Taking a brown book from his pocket he began scribbling in it.

"Day four of meeting the greatest detectives in history." The Doctor said. "Have landed in 2016, going to see the infamous Sherlock Holmes. Cautionary note: do not expose yourself as a time traveler."

The Doctor closed the book and placed it back in his pocket. Calmly, he left the alley and looked around for the right building. He waltzed down the sidewalk, dodging people as he went, many of whom gave him seriously strange looks. Who was this odd man?

Finally, he found the right flat complex. "221b." The sign read. The Doctor knocked once, then twice for good measure.

An elderly lady opened the door. She looked the Doctor up and down and then began closing the door. The Doctor grabbed the door to stop it.

"I'm terribly sorry, dear. Mr. Holmes isn't taking visitors today." she said.

The Doctor smirked. "Fabulous! I'll have more time to talk with him."

Mrs. Hudson pushed on the door again. "Don't you understand? No visitors."

The Doctor looked straight at Mrs. Hudson. "I am no ordinary visitor." He said before cringing as he realized that he was supposed to not hint at his Time Lord status.

The door opened slightly, wide enough for Mrs. Hudson's foot to connect with the Doctor's private area. The door slammed shut as the Doctor collapsed to the wet cement.

Lying on the ground in pain, the Doctor cursed himself. "I will take Daleks any day, but old ladies are out of my league." he wheezed.

After a moment of pain, the Doctor stood up and examined the building again. Taking the book out, he began writing again.

"It seems as if I will need to find another way to Mr. Holmes." He wrote.

/

John Watson lounged in one of the leather chairs in his flat. He had managed to keep his single corner of the flat clean while the rest of the wide room was stacked with newspapers, laptops, books, and other eccentric things. Suddenly, John heard noises coming from above him in the ceiling. Then, one of the tiles came loose and fell to the floor.

John got up from his chair as Sherlock's head poked through the ceiling. "Hello, John." he said.

John looked up in surprise. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Sherlock glanced down; or in John's case, up at the ceiling he hung upside down from. "Well, in a manner of speaking not only did I smell something dead up here I also figured that the power cables were frayed."

"How could you possibly know that?" John asked.

"The lamps I placed around the flat were a single watt dimmer than the day before."

John shook his head. "Sorry I asked."

"Apology accepted." Sherlock said.

John sighed. "Sarcasm, Sherlock!" he shouted.

"You sound the same no matter what manner of speech you adopt, John. That's why no one reads your blogs." Sherlock said.

John waved his hands and left Sherlock still dangling from the ceiling. He had had enough of his idiocy for one day. What he didn't know was that his life was going to get an even bigger dose of idiocy.

As he moved past a random closet in the hallway of the building, he heard rustling coming from inside. John stopped to look at the simple wooden door. Putting his ear up to it, he heard a whooshing sound and a creaking door. Opening the closet, he looked inside.

From the darkness came a tall, skinny man in an odd choice of clothes and a big chin. He leaned against the door frame.

"Hello, John." the man said.

John's eyes got big as he shut the door in the man's face and locked it. "Sherlock!" he shouted as he ran back to the flat. Sherlock was no dangling from his waist and was trying to pry himself free.

"There is man in our closet!" John said.

Sherlock looked up at Watson. "Again?"

"Good day to you, sirs!" The man said happily from the doorway.

John whirled around to see the man. His wide face was adorned with a huge grin. "I'm the Doctor."