Author's Notes:

All right, so here we are - the start of my Wholmes crossover series! I am so excited. I'm also excited about the serial format, which I expect to be much easier on me than normal chaptered fic for several reasons (not the least of which is time constraints).

Regarding the girl protagonist, she is not an OC, and the quote in the summary is taken from her show. However, her backstory is mine, as she gets very little of it in her universe.

Please enjoy (and review!), and I'll update as soon as I can!


Disclaimer: I am quite obviously neither Russel T. Davies or Steven Moffat, nor am I whoever owns Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century. The Great Detective himself, on the other hand... thank goodness he's public domain!


==Cerulean: A Force of Nature==

==Prologue: The Child==

Just this once, he's being a real doctor, the kind that heals people, and, dear heavens, it feels good. There are people dying all around him, but, here in this medical shuttle, right here at this moment in time, he gets to deliver a brand-new life into the universe. It is magnificent.

She is beautiful, this tiny human baby.

She's born in the final throes of a battle, just as he was, her new life a startling contrast to the death around her. But unlike him, she is innocent and oh-so-beautiful for it.

The young mother is crying her goodbyes to her father over the comm., her father who stayed behind to let the others escape. He asks for the baby's name; she gives it. Elizabeth. He hears only "Beth," though, judging by his answer, and the Doctor knows that, because of it, the baby is stuck with Beth now. (And he's trying very hard to keep focused on the baby and not on the mother, because it's reminding him all too vividly of the last days of the War, and the final goodbyes he made to his own children, his precious children whom he could not get out of Gallifrey.)

And that's when he feels it.

Strands of Time, converging on this baby girl in his arms.

He stares down at her. Who are you?

She bursts out crying, and he shushes her, shifting his hold so that she can hear his hearts. She starts to quiet, and he hums. It's an ancient Gallifreyan lullaby. His mother used to sing it to him.

He rocks her to sleep as the father holds the sobbing mother. He doesn't know who these people are. Yet. He doesn't even know the year, though judging from the technology, he wouldn't date it past the year 2100. He simply asked the TARDIS to take him wherever he was needed, trying desperately to save as many lives as he could after having caused such immense destruction.

But this baby.

He can feel Time thrumming around them, can feel the Facts that exist with the baby's timeline even if he doesn't know what they areā€¦

He can feel their timelines intertwining, and that's a Fact, too. It's terrifying, and it's exhilarating.

He continues to rock the baby and hum, and, for the first time since his regeneration, he looks forward to the future.