Someone suggested in the comments that I write a story with Rory meeting 10 and John without knowing that 10's The Doctor. That person also suggested that Sherlock get little cameos, and I actually quite liked that idea. So when I write more chapters, I'll do that occassionally too.

Sorry this is so short, but you know, flu. I keep mashing all the wrong buttons. :P

Rory gave both men before him a cross look, "Pig-swelling Hairyfoot-Pale Tonsilitis disease?" He echoed faintly.

"Just the like." The taller of the two gave a curt nod. His companion was still examining the corpse, or what used to be a corpse, on the morgue table before them.

The body, to put it kindly, couldn't be in worse shape if you stuffed it through a meat grinder. Bloody awful mess. Literally.

"Right." Rory bit his lip, "And what kind of doctors did you say you were again?"

"Good ones." Dr. Smith replied with no fair amount of cheek.

"How many other bodies like this?" Dr. Watson asked after a moment, wrapping up his surgical gloves and tossing them in the bin.

"Just three." Rory shook his head, "Look, is that it? I'm not sure I'm-"

"No, no, I think that will be all!" Dr. Smith proclaimed loudly, "You've been amazing. Thank you." He sniffed once, very loudly through his nose, and then made for the exit with a sudden shout of, "Come along, John!"

Rory turned his attention to the other doctor, who just smiled sheepishly and gave a short shrug, before turning and running after his companion.

Rory shook his head and sighed, "Nutters." He muttered to himself. May he never see either of them again.

It had been a month since Mycroft had put himself on the "John Watson" case.

He'd called once since then, and only a few short hours ago.

John had, apparently, popped up briefly in a small town in northern England before vanishing again not a day later.

Not even Mycroft was fast enough, missing John by hours. It irritated the elder Holmes brother, and Sherlock would be proud of his blogger, if he wasn't so worried about him.