Hello all, newbie here. Just posted some changes; hope you don't mind. And thank you for following my story! Did a little happy dance :)

"For the last time, Sherlock, the fridge is not for you to store your bloody experiments in!"

Sherlock smiled as John bellowed from the kitchen. It had taken John seven seconds longer than usual to finally notice the plate of sheep intestines placed conveniently in front of him; must be a lack of sleep again.

"Not sleeping well again, John?" Sherlock could clearly see the look of annoyance on John's face as he ignored his complaint. John sighed and dumped the bloody remains into the bin. Too tired to argue; definitely lack of sleep. Sherlock looked at the tired figure, contemplating whether to tell him about the alcohol-soaked grapes in the microwave, when he heard the familiar footsteps of Mrs Hudson entering the room. Newly-ironed blouse, purse in hand. Visiting a friend. Bag of candy in other hand. Visiting a friend with children then. She saw John in the act of disposing of the intestines.

"John! What are you doing, throwing away my sheep's intestines? They were a special treat for you boys!" Sherlock smiled yet again, enjoying John's face as he stared first at Mrs Hudson, mouth agape, wondering how sheep's intestines were considered a treat, then at Sherlock as he finally realised that Sherlock had thought the same and tricked him into disposing it for him. John realised his mistake and sighed.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs Hudson, I thought it was another one of Sherlock's experiments again," John glared at Sherlock, lounging on the sofa, looking all in the world like the cat who stole the cream.

"Which I suppose was the point." he muttered under his breath.

"But I could drop by at the butcher's to get more, if you'd like."John added quickly, seeing Mrs Hudson's confusion.

"That's sweet, honey, but it really is alright. I'm going to pop by at Jane's, so I'm afraid I won't be home babysitting you two." Mrs Hudson looked at her boys fondly.

"Alright then, you have fun." John said.

"Keep Sherlock out of trouble!" came the reply.

Sherlock picked up his violin.

"You could always get more milk, John." he said innocently, nestling his violin in the crook of his neck. Sherlock glanced at John as he sighed. He rubbed his eyes blearily.

"Might as well. Got nothing else to do here anyway."As John walked down the steps, he listened to the drone of Sherlock' violin. It has only been a short while since he's moved in with the mad genius, and yet it already feels like home. It feels as if he's truly home now.

John walked down Baker Street. He thought about how his life had changed ever since he met Sherlock. It was never boring. John smiled as he remembered their first encounter. Sherlock had analyzed his whole life in a split second, and as much as John's head was whirling with incredulity about this strange new man, his curiosity was piqued. It was the first time someone didn't treat him differently because of his leg, someone interesting.

Suddenly, he heard a commotion on his right. He turned to the noise.

"Come on, Rose, we haven't got all day! Well, technically we do have the whole of space and time, but you get what I mean." A tall man was yelling.

He gave John a peculiar feeling, like something about him didn't quite fit. The man was wearing a full pinstriped suit, with a large brown coat that flapped really dramatically in the wind. He would have cut a rather grand figure, if not for a startlingly bright pair of red Converse shoes. His hair was sticking up wildly in the wind, and a bright smile was plastered on his face.

A woman with blonde hair was running towards the man.

"There's no need to rush!"she shouted back amicably.

Suddenly, the man seemed to have noticed John. He smiled as if he knew John. John's heart quickened. Why was he being acknowledged in such a manner? The man waved wildly at him. John stared in confusion.

"Sorry, do I know you?" John asked. The man's eyes widened in surprise.

"It's me, the Doctor!" he said, the smile quickly fading from his face. John shook his head slowly, eying the man with suspicion. The man looked at him, his expression unreadable. John suddenly wished Sherlock was here. He would know what to do. Eventually the man nodded quickly.

"Sorry, must've been a mistake. Don't worry about it, just go on and have fun." he said, waving his hands in a shooing gesture. He seemed to want to say something, but kept silent, watching John intently. John realised the woman was running into an alley, where a mysterious blue box was standing. Strange, he's never seen that there before. There was a warm light streaming through its windows, and there, on the top, written in big bold letters were the words: POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX. The image was so bizarre, John wondered if he was dreaming.

Suddenly, the man spoke again.

"Hey, John? Remember the key. The one the nurse gave you." The man's gaze was inscrutable, making John feel uncomfortable.

"What key? What do you mean? How did you know my name? And who are you anyway?"

The man smiled at him.

"I'm the Doctor."

With that, he strode towards the blue box, opened its door and stepped inside. The box then promptly made a sound John will remember for the rest of his life. It was a constant mechanical whirring, so loud, so alien. It then proceeded to defy all laws of physics known to John by fading slowly away into non-existence.

Just like that, John was left gaping at the empty space in front of him. He stared, dumbfounded, and unable to say a single word.

In a daze, John then went back to the flat, forgetting entirely about the milk again.