#vanalosswen

Stranger: "No, no, no," John said, backing up. "I'm not living through this again, screw you, Doctor." He couldn't stop looking at Sherlock, balanced on top of the roof of St. Bart's, or himself on the pavement below, trying to find the right words to talk Sherlock off the roof.

You: "Hm? What's happening?" the Doctor followed John's gaze to the tall silhouette on top of the roof. "Oh, hey, it's...it's Sherlock," now it was clear to the Doctor where exactly they were: two years prior. John seemed to be well-adjusted, but the Doctor had noticed a sort of underlying darkness to him, more so than most of his companions. John constantly tried to look happy, but the Doctor saw sadness when he saw it. John had briefly touched on this event, but seeing it right before their eyes was an entirely different thing.

Stranger: "Yeah, it's Sherlock and /the single worst day of my life/," John bit out. Why had Sherlock tried to convince John he was a fraud? Anyone who knew Sherlock at all knew that was impossible.

You: From a hidden alleyway, both of them watched the past John and listened to his voice slowly get closer to breaking. "The first time we met, the first time we met, you knew all about my sister..." The Doctor looked up to the roof. Sherlock's words were quite inaudible. He wondered if it would cause a paradox if they went to the rooftop. Of course, the Doctor would have to hold John back from saving Sherlock. Maybe that was not such a good idea. John seemed to be frozen in place.

Stranger: "I researched you," John whispered, remembering every word Sherlock had said in his ear two years ago. "Doctor, we have to do /something/, we have time, time enough to get up there..." As he turned to the Doctor, his eyes wide, he saw something he hadn't seen before. Two years ago, he'd been focused on Sherlock, unable to look away. He hadn't seen the distinct shape of a sniper rifle pointed at him from a building opposite. "What the hell..." he breathed.

You: The doctor grimaced at the sight of the rifle peeking out from a window, and all the possible reasons for Sherlock's death flashed through his mind. While John was distracted, the Doctor spotted a few passers-by checking their watches all at the same time. In the distance looked to be a nurse with binoculars. Sherlock was not going to die. This was all planned just for John. Protection, maybe, against that sniper. All the different Sherlock Holmeses the Doctor had come across had done this, and he had learned not to mess with this timeline. If this Sherlock knew him, he would have probably strangled him. John was close to seeing too much. "John, we need to leave," the Doctor put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back the way they came.

Stranger: "Let go of me," John said, shaking the Doctor off. "Something's not right. Why the hell is there a sniper pointed at me? Did Sherlock know?" He did his best to keep his voice low, he didn't want to startle his younger self who was about to have his damned heart broken, but he wasn't leaving without answers.

You: "John, we need to leave. Now. Wrong dimension. This isn't where you wanted to go, right? You wanted to meet Churchill. Wrong time, I'm afraid. Let's go," the Doctor tried to lead John back to the TARDIS, but he would not budge from his spot. From where they were standing, the Doctor could see some of Sherlock's confidantes, probably this world's version of the Baker Street Irregulars, and they were silently preparing.

Stranger: "You said once the TARDIS doesn't always go where you want, but always goes where you need to be." John tore his eyes away from his younger self, looking around, really /seeing/ for the first time. Sherlock would give him that Look if he ever knew how little John had observed about that horrible day. He hadn't realized people were watching Sherlock, but not with the usual looks of horror people had when someone was about to commit suicide. They looked calculating, like they were waiting for something.

You: "Yes. But. Erm," the Doctor grew more and more nervous as the impending paradox came closer to being born. "Sherlock needs to fool you," the Doctor tried to explain as quick as possible. "Look, you see the rifle, right? If you knew all about /this/, you, to keep things short, would not exist right now here in front of me, so please! John."

Stranger: "If me then knew, you're right," John said, nodding. "I'm two years older than that poor bastard who's about to watch his best friend take a header onto the pavement. I can know, whatever the hell he didn't want me to know."

You: The Doctor frowned down at his shoes. John Watson would was a man who would do whatever he set his mind to. The Doctor gave one final warning. "If you learn all of the truth today," he said in a low voice, stepping in front of John. "You have to /promise/ me. Promise me and Sherlock...not to look for him. Stay away from him, no matter what."

Stranger: "Goddammit, Doctor," John growled. "Fine, yes, I promise. He lived through this? How?" Sudden movement caught his eye, and he dodged back as a bicyclist went tearing past. "That's the bicyclist who hit me," he said, stepping out a little to see what the hell was going on.

You: "Don't step to far now," the Doctor gently laid a hand on John's shoulder as they watched the scene unfold in front of them. The sniper was still trained on John, unaware of the precise preparations of the bystanders. The John looking up at Sherlock seemed oblivious to the world and his face slowly fell as Sherlock spoke into his ear. "No...don't..." he stuttered. The Doctor looked back at John, whose steely eyes scanned the area for any more clues.

You: *too

Stranger: John turned a little, looking up at Sherlock as his friend threw the phone to the side and hesitated on the lip of the building. He tore his eyes away, forcing himself to see everything else. He'd been such an idiot. Sherlock had even said. It was all a magic trick. Sleight of hand, look over here so you don't see the people moving things into place around the site where Sherlock was going to land. Behind the cover of a truck, someone moved a laundry bin into place, giving Sherlock a place to land. Past John didn't see that; he'd been at the wrong angle to see around the truck and, seconds later, he was hit by a bike and knocked to the ground. "A few seconds of disorientation," John whispered. "That's all it took." Sherlock rolled out of the bin and flopped onto the ground as people surrounded him and the bin rolled away.

You: At the past John's desperate cry of "Sherlock!" the Doctor knew that it was far too late now. He watched the scene unfold before them and he watched John take in this new perspective. "Sherlock Holmes is always prepared," he referred not just to this universe's Sherlock. "Aside from myself, naturally, I think he's the cleverest man I know, able to fool even you."

Stranger: John smiled a wry little smile. "That's not hard," he said through numb lips. He was in shock, barely able to take it all in as someone splashed blood from a donor pack around Sherlock's head and body. He watched his past self take Sherlock's pulse, or try to. Someone had pulled him away so fast, maybe too fast for even an Army doctor to tell for sure.

You: Despite the seemingly gruesome scene before him, the Doctor could not help but admire Sherlock's down-to-every-single-insignificant-detail planning. There was a man there whose single job was to press his fingers against Sherlock's neck, preventing John to take a pulse from there. He eyed the laundry truck as it sped by. "Another thing about Sherlock," he added. "Is that he absolutely loved you. I've met many, many Sherlocks and Johns, Holmeses and Watsons, and for some reason, that part never changes. Interesting, isn't it?"

Stranger: "God," John breathed, closing his eyes. He let out a hard breath, harshly rubbing away the tears that had escaped him. "Loves. Present tense, apparently." He watched the paramedics roll Sherlock away. "Jesus, they showed up fast. I just realized how weird that is."

You: "They used to take longer," the Doctor shrugged as they watched paramedics roll Sherlock away. "Sherlock allowed you to come close to him here. Any longer and you might have found out." The ambulance does not turn its siren back on. The two of them stand there, watching the aftermath as the past John nodded at the group of people to let him go as he stared at the puddle of blood.

Stranger: John turned away from the scene, gripping the Doctor by the arms. "We exist in other universes?" he asked, his voice low and harsh. "Does this happen in all of those timelines?"

You: "Everyone has more than one version of themselves," the Doctor tried to smile at him. Memories of other Holmeses and Watsons flicked past his eyes. Though he had not seen each Sherlock fall to his death, most of them ended up doing so. Arthur Conan Doyle made an indelible, unavoidable fate with nothing but his pen and, well, his homicidal hate for Sherlock Holmes, inadvertently creating timelines where his characters were very real and their hearts were very breakable. "And well...yes," the Doctor sheepishly replied. "One way or another, Sherlock dies. You're one of the lucky ones, actually."

Stranger: "The /lucky/ ones?" John demanded, his voice breaking. "How the hell is this a /lucky/ one?" He recognized that look on the Doctor's face. That was the look Sherlock got when he was thinking about something too deep or broad for John to grasp. He fucking hated that look, but he'd learned to accept that when the cleverest man in the world thought something was beyond John, he was usually right. So whatever the Doctor was thinking or remembering, it was better not to ask.

You: The Doctor shook himself away from John's grasp and straightened his bow tie. Behind John, he could see the past John being calmly led away from the scene. "Um, yes. You, my good friend, are a lucky one. Very very lucky." the Doctor pointed at John with a grin. "In one universe, Sherlock doesn't survive the fall at all. You better thank Mr. Doyle's fans for making /this/ universe happen. Or maybe not, imagine the absolute chaos it would be if you met them."

Stranger: "I've had enough of running across Sherlock's fangirls, I'd rather not meet..." John's voice trailed off. "Mr. Doyle?"

You: "Alright, you've seen more than enough. Back to the TARDIS, John Watson," the Doctor walked up behind John and gave him a push back down towards the alley.

Stranger: "Ow! Hey!" John complained. The giraffe was stronger than he looked. He threw another look back at the scene, in time to see a face he recognized but hadn't seen two years ago. "Hey, wait, hang on a second, I know that guy. He was in the Army with me, Colonel Moran." He saw the bag in the man's hand but didn't register it for a second.

You: "Oh what a coincidence!" the Doctor continued to push John back towards the blue box.

Stranger: "Doctor, I swear to God...!" John finally turned and walked back toward the TARDIS, getting some distance between him and the Doctor. He stopped cold just outside the door. "Dear God. He was a sniper. He was going to /shoot/ me!"

You: ((brb))

Stranger: ((kk))

You: ((back))

You: ((argh wait brb))

Stranger: ((Lol! Okay!))

You: ((back for real))

Stranger: ((And welcome back! :D ))

You: ((thanks))

You: "Yes, he was," there was no denying it. Another betrayal to add to the pile. The Doctor gave John an apologetic look. "Now you know everything there is to know about Sherlock's fall," he fished out his key from his pocket and unlocked the TARDIS doors, gesturing for John to enter. "Remember, do /not/ look for Sherlock. It may take years before you two meet up again. Varies with every universe, but you get the point."

Stranger: John walked into the TARDIS and sat on the floor against a wall, processing everything he'd just seen. "I'm going to kill him," he said, rubbing his face with both hands.

You: The Doctor laughed at John's little threat. "He's already done that for you, no worries." He bounded up to the TARDIS's console and flicked a few switches.

Stranger: "Oh, so funny." John wasn't laughing. Sherlock had let him think he was dead, which had directly led to the existential crisis that allowed him the moment of insanity it took to get into the madman's blue box. He'd spent two years blaming himself for Sherlock's death. If he'd done something different...now, though he didn't know all the ins and outs of the situation, he knew it wasn't his fault. And that made him furious with Sherlock for allowing him even a second's worth of doubt.

You: "So! You've stepped inside old sexy and thirty minutes later you've learned the biggest secret of your life," the Doctor raised his hands towards the ceiling and spun on his heel to face John. "Cool down time. Pick a fun place."

Stranger: "Somewhere with a beach that isn't Earth," John replied promptly. If he spent any time near his personal timeline at the moment, he was going to find Sherlock and beat the living shit out of him. So yeah, probably best to be a long way from Earth.

You: The Doctor smiled as he twisted and turned knobs and switches. "Watch out for two extraterrestrials coming to a beach near you!" He pulled on the big lever and again, the whole TARDIS shook with the force of battling gravities. The Doctor held onto the railing as he circled around to the monitor and threw himself at it to look where they were going. It was all a blur of stars, galaxies, the odd spaceship, a sun and...wait was that a comet? "You might want to hold onto something!" he shouted towards his companion. The TARDIS shook violently and sparks flew from the console.

Stranger: John twisted instinctively when he felt the TARDIS start shaking, grabbing hold of the nearest railing. "What's going on?" he shouted back, hauling himself to his feet and making his staggered way over to the console. Not like he had any idea what he was looking at, but he wanted to try and see anyway.

You: "We've just grazed a passing comet!" the Doctor shouted as the lights flickered on and off. "Those things have a mind of their own, but their brains are so small. I tried to talk to it, but it wouldn't listen!" a loud crunch echoed through the TARDIS's walls and they shunted to a halt. Seconds later, the lights went back on and the Doctor immediately lunged for the monitor, slapping a the side a few times to get rid of the static. "Um..." he mumbled. "I don't think we're on the planet Hera."

Stranger: John came around to look at the monitor. "Where are we?" he asked.

You: The monitor buzzed with fizz and the Doctor gave it another good whack before the picture cleared up. He brought out his sonic from his jacket pocket and pointed at it. "We are...on Earth. Earth again. Hm. Thanks to that comet, it's sent us a little ways into the future. We are in Cairo, wouldn't you believe it?"

Stranger: "I can't seem to escape Earth," John complained, eying the buzzing green thing suspiciously. "When are we? Are we talking future of my current timeline, or just a jump ahead from...from where we just were?"

You: "If we are, old sexy isn't done showing you things," the Doctor gazed back up to the tall shaft. "Cairo is an interesting place, though," the Doctor gestured towards the doors. "Shall we?"

Stranger: John gently caressed the console. "Sexy lady, could we please go somewhere else next time?" he asked, looking up at the shaft. He sighed and turned toward the doors. "Right, okay, let's go see what's out in the desert."

You: They emerged from the TARDIS, finding themselves right in the middle of a marketplace. Dubious stares crossed their way, but they paid no mind. It was hot and sweltering and the Doctor shed his jacket, chucking it somewhere behind him. "Oh!" the Doctor exclaimed as he pointed towards a market stall being tended to by a pair of twins. Upon seeing the blue TARDIS in the middle of the bustling crowd, they both waved. The Doctor pushed through the throngs of people and happily greeted the two identical girls. "How are you! Fancy meeting you here in Cairo. Oh, this is my good friend, John Watson."

Stranger: John stuck his hands in his coat pockets, automatically settling into the breathing pattern he needed to cope with the heat. He didn't shed his coat; it was the only thing concealing the bulge of the pistol at the small of his back. He nodded to the girls with a smile. "Hi, pleasure," he said.

You: One of the girls smiled, revealing an impressive set of fangs. "What brings you here, Doctor? Mr. Watson? May I interest you in some kebabs?" she inquired with a very non-Egyptian accent.

Stranger: John's eyes doubled in size as he stumbled back a step. A child of modern culture references, he immediately thought of vampires when he saw the fangs. Which was ridiculous, they were out in broad daylight, and the Doctor seemed to trust them. Yes, and just how trustworthy was /the Doctor/? "Um," he managed. "Haven't anything but pounds, sorry."

You: "Oh, we take any currency," the other sister shrugged. "English pounds, Egyptian pounds, yen, pesos, Saturnian tickets. No barters, though, just money." The Doctor reached into his back pocket and took out a crumpled bill and handed it to her, receiving two kebabs in return. "Bon appetit," he smiled, handing one to John. "It's lamb, don't worry," he said before mouthing to the girls 'new guy.' The twins giggled behind their shawls.

You: ((by the way, I'm not as well-versed in doctor who as most people. I actually just started watching it so forgive me if I have to resort to making stuff up))

You: ((like the saturnian tickets))

Stranger: ((No worries; I'm not caught up at all with Matt Smith. I'm great with Tennant and the older Doctors, but I know almost nothing about the recent stuff))

You: ((yeah the only doctor i know is Matt Smith))

You: (( but I guess so far so good))

Stranger: ((It actually works out great, because John has /no freaking clue/ what's going on, so that's not hard to RP. ;) ))

Stranger: "Thanks," John said, accepting the kebab. His appetite had been next to nil since Sherlock's fall, the PTSD depression killing sleep and appetite again. Now he found himself surprisingly ravenous, though he was pretty sure he was the butt of a joke somewhere in here.

You: "See you, girls!" The Doctor waved at them with his kebab. "Tell your mummy I said hi!" The Doctor turned back to John, who seemed to be enjoying his snack and he inwardly wondered if hie new companion's appetite had been affected at all by Sherlock's death. Upon meeting him, John did not look his healthiest and seeing people like him eat made the Doctor happy. "We are in the heart of Egypt. Might as well be as fun as a beach on Hera, yes?" the Doctor spun to look at all the people as they walked. "Aren't you hot under that jacket?"

Stranger: "I'm used to it," John said, polishing off the kebab and pitching the stick into a burn barrel as he passed. "Two tours in Afghanistan; like riding a bike. Why did the TARDIS bring us here, and who were those girls?"

You: "I don't exactly know why we're here. Maybe she thought you would like it better in Cairo than a beach full of three-legged aliens? Did I mention that the sky there is always bluish-green?" the Doctor bit off another mouthful of lamb. "Those girls were of course, aliens from a galaxy far far away. I met them a few years ago, when they were still in their eggs." At the sight of another food stall, the Doctor bounded over to buy a big plate of fried rice for him and John to share. As he paid with the proper currency this time, he noticed a tall, odd, paler-skinned man with a medical flu mask over his nose and dressed in a turban and a black tunic. He did not look much like a tourist. More like a traveler. Definitely human. He did not recognize him, but perhaps it was better if John stayed away from him. The traveler approached a local stallkeeper, who seemed to be selling cameras. He mumbled to the keeper, "Do you have the photographs?" to which the keeper answered, "Only the Vatican cameos," after which the traveler slipped a thick roll of bills to him and received a folded note in return. The traveler disappeared back into the crowd.

You: ((just in case we suddenly lose each other, look for me under 'tardiswholock'))

Stranger: ((Brilliant, thanks))

Stranger: John stopped dead in his tracks, hearing the code phrase he and Sherlock had used for months. He turned, going pale as he looked at the tall man in the turban and tunic. Sherlock Holmes could conceal everything else about himself, but his height and freakishly pale eyes were really hard to mask. "Sherlock," he said, taking a step after the man as he disappeared into the crowd. "Doctor, that was Sherlock!"

You: The Doctor turned to face John, holding up a plate and scooping up more rice. "Here in Cairo?" he tried to mumble around the food. "He must be on his mission then. That's it!" the Doctor swallowed his food with a grimace. "I think we're a little ways into the future, a few years from where I picked you up. Don't tell me you're here in Cairo too. We've already gone really close to you meeting yourself."

Stranger: "I have no idea," John said testily. "As far as I know, I've never been to Cairo before now." But if it was in his future...ugh, no, don't think about the brain-melting possibilities here. He scooped up rice and filled his mouth, chewing as he thought. "The shopkeeper used the Vatican Cameos code phrase. That was our thing, me and Sherlock, he used that when getting on the ground immediately was a good idea. What mission?" His brain had just caught that word.

You: "Mission! Didn't I tell you?" the Doctor held out the plate so John could eat. "Moriarty! His nemesis," this was shaky ground. the Doctor knew it was already dangerous letting John know more about Sherlock's plans, but seeing as he did not immediately dash after him through the crowd, the Doctor deemed John fit enough to tell. "It looks like he's been out of London for a while, taking down Moriarty's network. Looks like he's been at it for years. That shopkeeper there must have been an ally of sorts."

Stranger: Moriarty. Now there was a blast from the past. John hadn't heard any more about the consulting criminal after Sherlock's fall, which had only managed to make him nervous and jumpy. That was part of why he always carried his pistol now. John ate more rice. "I know Moriarty," he said. "Sherlock's dismantling his network? Oh."

Stranger: ((brb; cake!))

You: ((your Mycroft is showing, John))

Stranger: ((*giggles* Didn't you know? I'm really Mycroft, cleverly disguised as a wounded Army doctor with trust issues))

You: The Doctor shoveled in another scoop. Street food, he found, was always good when shared with someone . "Well, now you know why he has to stay away from you and fool you into thinking he was dead. Right here, I have just destroyed all his plans. It's all my fault his carefully planned not-actually-suicide has gone down the toilet. Brilliant, isn't it? I can only imagine what his reaction would be upon meeting me." The Doctor glanced back at the TARDIS, still standing tall and blue amongst the market crowd. He looked back to the twins, happily handing out kebabs in exchange for the odd coin. However, something caught the corner of his eye. There he was, peering at the blue box. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at it and walked in their direction. "Ah! Over there! I know her too!" the Doctor averted John's attention towards a stall deeper into the market. He waved his spoon at a middle-aged woman, who giggled and waved back along with what looked like her husband.

Stranger: "Is this a convention of some sort?" John asked, turning to look at the woman and man the Doctor had indicated. Something had changed. Old soldier instincts told him something was different, though he couldn't pin down what. He turned to look back at the TARDIS for a point of reference and froze when he saw Sherlock again. "Um. Doctor?" In his black coat and jeans, John looked like a sore thumb in the middle of the marketplace.

You: "Move, move, he doesn't know it's you, we're too far away," the Doctor said in a low voice. "And I'm over nine hundred years old. I've met a lot of people and wouldn't you know it, they're from the planet we were supposed to be going! Look, hidden cleverly under her skirt, three legs," the Doctor pushed John away into the more secluded area of the marketplace, where the alien couple's stall was. They were selling clothes, both for humans, and for Herans. He gave the TARDIS one last cursory glance and it seemed that Sherlock had disappeared.

Stranger: John let himself be guided away, though all he really wanted to do was find Sherlock and punch his friend's lights out. From the way Sherlock carried himself, he knew about the Doctor and recognized the TARDIS, and now he was on the look-out. They came around the corner into an alleyway, and John pulled up sharply. It was that or run face-first into a semi-disguised Sherlock Holmes. "Doctor," he growled, looking at the Doctor. "What the hell are you doing here?"

You: ((wait, sherlock's talking to the doctor right?))

Stranger: ((Oh, right, yes, sorry. I just realized how confusing it is to have two people who'd answer to 'Doctor'.))

You: ((no it's cool. he wouldn't call John 'doctor' anyway))

You: "Hello, Sherlock Holmes," the Doctor squeaked. "Fancy meeting you in Cairo," he frantically waved his arm at John, telling him to go away, lest another accident nearly happen. Why was it that these two always gravitated towards each other wherever they were? At least that was predictable.

Stranger: "Stay right where you are, John," Sherlock said, not looking at his friend.  "Funny how you keep saying that to me, you wanker," John returned, glaring at Sherlock. "You landed your TARDIS in the middle of my work, Doctor," Sherlock said, ignoring John's comment. "And if anyone sees you or John,m

Stranger: *John, my work might be compromised. So again, what the hell are you doing here, now?"

You: The Doctor shrugged, still holding their plate of food. "Happy accident." It seemed that this Sherlock had already met him in this future. Sometime after him meeting John, he had met up with Sherlock. Possibly helped him take out some of Moriarty's men.

Stranger: "Accident," Sherlock muttered. "Lovely. The TARDIS has a bad habit of sticking her nose where it doesn't belong, Doctor." He turned to look at John. "Look, I..." "If the next words out of your mouth are 'I did it for you', I will beat the everliving shit out of you, Sherlock Holmes," John said levelly.

You: "H'okay, I think we'd better leave Sherlock to his work, don't you?" the Doctor slid between them and shoved a heaping spoon into John's mouth. "Don't want to be more of a target than you are now, do you, John?"

Stranger: John half-choked on the rice, stumbling back a step and spitting. "God /damn/ it!" he snarled. "What the hell?"

You: "Now you two have seen far too much of each other to be safe. Now, take a last eyeful...and that's it. Off we go," the Doctor spun John around and pushed him into an alternate route towards the TARDIS. He turned back to Sherlock and discreetly pointed at a window of a two-storey house. A spy. "Be careful!" he called out to him before sharply turning a corner.

Stranger: Turning and fighting against the Doctor's pushing, John caught a last glimpse of Sherlock watching them, a half-smile caught in the corners of his eyes. Then they were around the corner, and John couldn't see his friend anymore. "All right, all right," he said, shaking the Doctor off. "Do you shove all your traveling mates around like this?"

You: "Only if they're being uncooperative," the Doctor unlocked the TARDIS, opening the door. "And you are especially stubborn." The Doctor jumped through the TARDIS doors and shut them securely once John was inside. "I saw several of Moriarty's operatives. At least three, watching us. Fortunately, they were unarmed spies. Too many witnesses in the marketplace. You are very, very lucky. The TARDIS, she loves you."

Stranger: "Love you too," John murmured to the TARDIS, lightly touching inside the door. "Of course I'm stubborn; how d'ya think I managed with that wanker for eighteen months?" He tried to smile. It came out a bit wobbly.

You: John's pained smile made the Doctor a little worried. He handed John the plate and the spoon. "Here, finish your food." The Doctor stepped up to the console again, tweaking a few switches. "Okay, do you /still/ want to go to that beach? Hopefully we won't have any more comets crossing our path."

Stranger: "Yeah, maybe the second time will be the charm," John said, leaning against a railing and eating the rice. "Comets. Of all the things to throw us off course."

You: "Not just comets can do that," the Doctor. "The TARDIS is flying through space and time. Anything can hit us, which is probably why our landings aren't always accurate. It's a wonder how we manage to always stay right-side-up." The Doctor pulled and twisted switches and buttons, typed out coordinates on a Gallifreyan typewriter, before pulling down the lever, sending the TARDIS flying. ((and brb because all this rice makes me crave some argh))

Stranger: ((Haha, sure thing!))

Stranger: "It's a wonder you manage to land in one piece at all," John remarked, grabbing onto a railing and spreading his feet to keep from going arse-over-teakettle over the railing. He couldn't stop thinking about Sherlock. Tanned and skinny, and obviously worn down to a thread. He needed help, needed someone standing at his side. And John couldn't be there, or things would get far more dangerous for them. He finished the rice slowly and set the plate down.

You: ((is there any place in particular you want john to visit? AUs are cool too))

Stranger: ((Ancient Rome might be fun...))

You: ((he's not getting to that beach is he?))

Stranger: ((The Doctor never makes it to the beach...))

You: ((yessss alright haha))

You: "Well, that was a smoother ride than normal," the Doctor commented as he moved sideways to the monitor. "Aah, you old trickster you. You're as stubborn as Sherlock and John combined!" he turned to his companion. "We're still not on that beach. Sorry."

Stranger: John had to laugh a little. "I'm used to things not going how I planned. So where did the sexy trickster land us?" He walked over to the monitor and his eyebrows jumped. "...No way," he said.

You: "Ancient Rome, John!" the Doctor announced. I've always loved the Romans. Greedy folk, stealing stuff from the Greeks. Lovely people." The Doctor hurriedly threw open the doors, only to very nearly break his nose against a slab of stone. He frowned at it, gave it a lick, and then closed the doors again. "Sorry," he smirked. "Just a little miscalculation. Gotta turn the doors around," he said as the TARDIS hummed, as if in sheepish apology. The Doctor opened the doors again and before them was Rome in all its glory.

You: "Ancient Rome, John!" he repeated.

Stranger: Laughing, John walked to the doors and looked out. "Wow," he said, properly impressed. From his spot just inside the doors, the land outside looked like a particularly realistic television drama. He shed his coat absently, dropping it on the floor inside the TARDIS. "Beautiful."

You: The Doctor loved it when his companions were thoroughly impressed by beautiful sights, especially of their own world. "Oh, whoops. John," The Doctor pointed to John's Sig tucked into his belt. "Might want to put that away."

Stranger: John shot the Doctor a Look that was pure Sherlock as he untucked his shirt and concealed the handgun. "I'm a walking anachronism here anyway," he said.

You: The Doctor arched his brows at John's expression. "We're just trying to avoid having the Romans smite Jupiter on you for having such a thing. Let's go."

Stranger: John stepped out into the warm sunlight without further comment. He tipped his head back and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he took in the smells and the sounds of the place. Then he blinked in surprise. "I can understand them," he said. "Didn't the Romans speak Latin?"

You: "TARDIS translates everything," the Doctor pointed towards the blue box. "Same reason why you're understanding me now."

Stranger: "I figured you just liked us enough to speak English all the time," John joked, looking around. "Wow."

You: "Humans may be my favorite species, but there's more than just English in your planet. Mine just has one. Probably with several dialects, but we all just spoke the same," the Doctor's expression fell a little at the mention of his home planet, but he did not let it show too much. John was supposed to be enjoying himself.

Stranger: John was sensitive to changes in emotion around him; a useful side-effect to growing up in an abusive childhood. He glanced at the Doctor with a little frown. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

You: The Doctor instantly perked up. "Never better!" he smiled, pulling on his bow tie. "So, Rome ready for you. Where to?"

You: *Rome's

Stranger: Liar, liar, pants on fire. But John understood not wanting to talk about emotional pain. "The Senate," he said, grabbing a place at random from his scrambled history lessons as a child.

You: The Doctor nodded and led John through the small village. It looked to be the metropolitan area of Rome. Many richly dressed people milled about among the lower-class civilians. "This way," the Doctor beckoned.

Stranger: "Are we going to mess something up, being in 21st century clothes?" John asked. "Well. 20th and 21st century clothes, I suppose..." He grinned at the Doctor like a schoolboy.

You: "Hey. Bow ties are cool," the Doctor defensively brushed his hand over his bow tie. "No one seems to mind. They just might think of us as the next Lady Gaga or something. If we're lucky, we may start a trend."

Stranger: "I love it when you misuse the word 'cool'," John said. "You and Sherlock both." He could've punched himself. Dammit, he was supposed to be healed by now, especially since Sherlock wasn't actually dead. "Have you ever done that? Started a trend by accident?"

You: "But bow ties are cool!" the Doctor insisted. "Why does no one else seem to think so? Anyway, to answer your question, I may have. Once or twice. Three times. Fish fingers and custard were all the rage in Britain back in the day. They even made up a recipe so that they would taste good to people."

Stranger: "Fish fingers...and custard. Together?" John shuddered. He'd eaten some interesting things in his time as a bachelor, but just the idea of those two things together made him want to vomit.

You: "Especially when straight out of the fridge. They're great. I keep some in the TARDIS's kitchen whenever I'm feeling particularly nostalgic," the Doctor smiled at the memory. Eventually, they arrived at the Senate. It was a massive building, with tall pillars supporting the stone arches. "Isn't it amazing?" the Doctor said as he craned his neck. "I can see why you would like this place."

Stranger: "I hate overusing words. But I can't think of anything to say but 'wow'," John said, trying to get a sense for the size of the place. "It's enormouss!"

Stranger: *enormous

You: "That sounded like something Sherlock would say," The Doctor said, immediately regretting his words. He tilted his head towards the entrance. "Shall we go in?"

Stranger: "It is something Sherlock would say," John said absently, then realized what he'd just said. He sighed, but nodded. "Let's go," he said, heading for the stairs.

You: The ceiling seemed to be a sky on itself. Various busts of important figures and government representatives lines the walls. The Doctor smirked at the intricacies of the sculptures. It was almost always amusing when human arrogance created something beautiful. He looked back at John, who simply gawked at the place. Several people stared at them, but as usual, they left them alone.

Stranger: John turned a slow circle, taking everything in. "This is amazing," he breathed. He was right on the verge of pinching himself to make sure it was all real. He was really leaving modern footprints in historical soil. He had to laugh a little as he looked at the Doctor, his eyes shining.

You: "Just one reason why humans are my favorite species. Look at these. Decades and decades and /centuries/ of work, just to get that look you have right now on your face," the Doctor mockingly gaped at the ceiling and turned in a circle.

Stranger: Laughing, John picked up a pebble and pitched it at the Doctor. "Oy, don't mock me," he sniffed. "Just because it's all old hat to you..."

You: The Doctor futilely dodged the pebble. "Ow! Jupiter help me, I'm being harassed!" he laughed, their echoes reverberating through the marble walls.

Stranger: "Shhhh, you'll bring whatever the equivalent of the city watch is down on us," John laughed. He turned a little and paused. "Um. Oh hi." About thirty men, all dressed in heavy white togas, stared at the two men in the middle of the Senate.

You: "Oh, hello!" the Doctor waved at the men. "We're just tourists having a little fun here. Hi, Tobias. Wow, you've grown! Your beard, I mean." he said to one of the younger men, who merely looked away with a smirk.

Stranger: "We'll just be out of your way, then," John said, smiling and grabbing the Doctor's wrist. He tugged the taller man toward a door, hoping it would lead out.

You: "John, where /are/ you going? You're lost, aren't you?" the Doctor jogged after him. The door simply led to large chamber dedicated to a Roman god.

Stranger: "Yes of course I'm lost, I've never been here before," John replied, rolling his eyes at the Doctor. He took a second to appreciate the grandeur of the room before shutting the door again.

You: ((so sorry, but I've got to go soon. ))

Stranger: ((No worries, this has been great fun!))

You: ((yup! this was awesomemmee))

You: ((and this is going on tumblr. yes.))

Stranger: ((Brilliant! Tag me, I'm vanalosswen))

You: ((okee i'm sherlockonymous but my main blog is helliecarousel))

You: ((ok bye))