Sherlock paced in his living room, sneaking glances whenever he could at John Watson, who was asleep, curled into a small ball on the couch. Just above him, was the smile face that he painted 4 years ago from one case he and John had. He saw John's short intake of breath, and small movement of his foot. Sherlock smiled. That always meant that Watson was dreaming of him. But lately when wasn't he. They had just made their relationship public, and they weren't getting eaten by the press. Sherlock didn't care all that much, but the stress it was putting John in. Sherlock stopped pacing, and tilted his head to the side. John was starting to take quicker intakes of breath. He turned to face Sherlock, and he frowned as he saw John frown in his sleep. Frowning in your sleep was never a good sign. It usually meant you were having a bad dream.
Sherlock sat down in his chair, put his head in his hands. He hated to admit it, but the press were getting to him too. Business wasn't as hopping since his fall from the building, but he hadn't had a client in over a month. He opened his phone, scrolling through his texts. His last one was from Mycroft, at least 6 months old. He flipped it shut in frustration. He needed a case. It was like a cigarette. He could go for a while without it as long as he small doses each day. John's "time" with his was enough. But he was slowly loosing the little sanity he had left.
Suddenly, there was a low whistle. John and Sherlock were standing up in a flash, John going for his gun. In between the two men, a blue police box started to form, but before it could entirely, the whistling sound started to make more of grinding sound. The door flapped open, and a tall, thin man poured out, falling on the floor. The box started to grind again, and then disappeared completely, leaving the man lying face down on the floor in front of them.
"Sherlock..." John said warningly, but Sherlock waved him aside. He was almost jumping in the air. Just what he needed! A case! John and Sherlock helped the man up, and too a seat.
His coat was a nice tailored, so this man had to be rich from his parlor tricks like the one he saw just a moment ago. His hair was flipped up, so everyone could see his face. He was probably well known, and he wanted to be noticed when he could. His pants were clean, and his shoes were shining. This man kept proper hygiene, and had a nice first hand job.
The man stuck out his hand, "Hello mates, I'm the Doctor."
Sherlock nodded, looking at the hand in disgust. Human contact wasn't necessary, no matter how much John pushed it. The man brought back his hand, and took out a wallet. "My identifications are right here-"
"Oh put that away," Sherlock said, waving the paper from his face, "No I.D. is needed. So you are a doctor. What is your name. Derek, Devin?"
"Oh, just the Doctor." The man said, looking around in his pockets.
John side stepped, looking the man up and down, "Just the Doctor?"
"Just the Doctor. I know that you" he pointed to Sherlock, "Are the world renounced Sherlock Holmes, and you," he turned over to John, "Are his quirky sidekick, John Watson."
Sherlock put a hand on John shoulder, reassuring him that he was no sidekick. "You must heard wrong. For the past few months, 6 to be exact, he's been my boyfriend. He is my partner in solving crimes."
The Doctor nodded, and started to look around the house. "Nice place you have here. What is it that you do exactly?"
John stepped away from Sherlock, and toward the Doctor, "You come prancing in here with some washed up magic trick, call me a sidekick, walk around a house we didn't even invite you in, and ask us what we do? How about we ask you who you are? What is your business?"
"Well, I was in my Tardis, when it started to act out of sorts. Weeeeeeeeeellll it was more of a monthly thing that happens, but I can handle it. Weeeeeeeellll I don't know when it comes, and I guess I landed here. Appropriate too." He sat down on the couch, crossing his legs.
Sherlock looked the man over. His deductions were wrong. How could that be so? His deductions were never wrong! He could predict every human's present, past, and future, just by one look, unless. "I know it made be rude of asking, but apparently, I've been called rude everywhere. So, here it is. Are you human?"
The Doctor laughed, "Me, human? Good god no! If I was human, I wouldn't be traveling around in a blue police box, now would I?"
John and Sherlock exchanged glances. This man was either a nut job, or worse, he was telling the truth.