So here's something my friend Emilehh and I are co-writing. Just for a heads up, I'm writing the Sherlock-related character's PoV bits and she's writing the Doctor Who-related character's PoV. Alrighty? Then enjoy :).


John struggled up the stairs, aching arms weighed down by shopping bags. He finally made it to the top step with a sigh of relief and glanced into the sitting room. No sign of Sherlock. It would be nice, he reflected, if for once he would be around to offer him some kind of help.

Unfortunately for John, help was the furthest thing from the detective's mind. The shopping bags hit the floor with a dull thud as John tripped over some crockery, carelessly scattered around the doorway in the kitchen. As he fell, he caught sight of a tall figure stooped over, poking about beneath the sink.

"John, where's my skull?" Sherlock asked, without turning to face his flat mate.

"On the mantlepiece, last I saw," John responded, rather more preoccupied with the teapot that was digging into his hip.

"Not there now," came the short reply.

"Then I don't know. Maybe Mrs. Hudson hid it again."

"No. I've already questioned her." Sherlock emerged from the cupboard and peered at his friend. "You're on the floor, John."

"And it doesn't take the world's only consulting detective to figure out why." John picked himself up and surveyed the mess of various utensils, appliances and scattered shopping. "Sherlock, this is a bit excessive. Just for a skull."

Sherlock clearly wasn't listening. His eyebrows knitted together in his classic 'thinking face'.

"Aha!" he cried suddenly, almost knocking John over again as he rushed past.

"I'll put away the shopping then, shall I?"

No reply.

John nodded to himself. "Of course. Every time."

As he bent down to pick up the carrier bags that hadn't split, a chill shot up his spine, almost like an electric shock. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The sensation was over as quickly as it had come, leaving him feeling a little unsettled.

"Sherlock, did you feel that?"

When he received no reply once again, he dismissed it, busying himself with cleaning the broken eggs off the oven chips. If only he'd have thought to check on his flat-mate, he might have realised that something was afoot.


The Doctor whistled as he threw himself around the TARDIS console, redesigning the desktop... Again. It took him ages to find one he really liked. He finally decided on one, and then took it back off.

"Hmm," he said to himself. "Amy, do you think that Vesuvius sounds good? I mean, from a safe distance..."

He turned around when there was no answer and sighed. No Amy, as it had been for the last few months.

"Silly old Doctor." he said, directing his words at himself once more. "I have to find her. I've been looking for weeks now."

He sat down and sighed again. Suddenly, he heard an abnormal beeping coming from the TARDIS console.

"Oh dear, old girl, what is it?"

"Unexpected item in bagging area."

"TARDIS, I am not taking you to Tesco again. I assume you liked the look of one of those machines. Look, please move on. We're not going back." He paused. "Anyway... Amy. Finding her." The Doctor buried his head in his hands. "So, Sexy, have you got any ideas?" He used his nickname for his TARDIS, the one he used when they were alone. He had never felt more alone in his life.

Suddenly, a message popped up on the display screen. Two words: Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock Holmes? But... Sexy, that's a fantastic idea! Let's go!"


Hope you enjoyed, reviews are very much appreciated :).