I advise you to not just see this story, but observe it carefully as you read.

"That's what people do, don't they? Leave a note?"

"Leave a note when?"

"Goodbye John."

"No. Don't..."

Sherlock hung up and threw the phone to the side. He spread his arms and leaned forward.


The doctor dasHed around the TARDIS console, muttering to himself.

"Matter manipulator...Vortex handbrake...blue stabilisers...nah...here we are...geronimo!"

He stabbed a button marked 'pool doors' then ran around the console, flung open the TARDIS doors and leapt out the way just as a figure zoomed passEd him.


The doctor closed the doors, stabbed a few more buttons on the console then ran to the poolside and helped a sodden figure to his feet, handing him a towel and dry clothes identicLe to what he was currently wearing.

"Nice of you to drop in."

Sherlock grunted a reply and ducked into a cubicle to change.

2 minutes later, the doctor was dashing around the console, watched by Sherlock (comPlete with face covered in fake blood) who was successfully hiding his fascination with his usual passive mask of indifference.

"Have you arranged a distraction for John?" The doctor asked.

"Member of the homeless network," said Sherlock simply. "And a bike."

"Excellent! You can't be too careful, brilliant as I am there may still be a slIght glitch. I'm staying in the exact spot you were in when you landed, which is on the side of the building about 2 feet off the ground but I need to stabilise it so that we stay also stay in the exact same point in time as when you entered the TARDIS, in a sort of bubble if you like, where time has stoppeD but it's really tricky to...aaahhh!...there we go!" He threw a lever up then turned and beamed at his human intellectual equal.

"You don't say much do you?"

"I just told my best friend that my whole exsistence is a lie, and that same friend then watched me jump off a building. I'm hardly gOing to be the most chatty man in the universe. You of all people should know what this kind of thing feels like."

The doctor looked away. "You have no idea..."

Sherlock approached him and stood about a foot away, studying the timelord's face. The consulting detective equivalent of a haNd on the shoulder.

"I don't," he admitted. "But the fact that you just carry on helping people like this...not asking for anything in return...that's..." he cleared his throat. This sort of conversaTion was way out of his comfort zone. "That's...amazing. Heroic even." He put his hand on the doctor's shoulder. The consulting detective equivalent of a hug.

The doctor smiled at him. Sherlock half smiled bacK. "Mind like yours. It's almost as good as mine. You could do so much. Instead you choose to help people."

The doctor didn't bother pointing out that his mind was far older and superior to Sherlock's, who didn't even know the basic movemeNt's of his own solar system. Instead, he once again flung open the TARDIS doors. "When you're ready."

But there was one more thing on Sherlock's mind.

"Isn't somebody going to notice a blue box on the side of a building?"

The doctor pointed to a contraption attached the the console. "Perception filter. Not quite invisibility, but near enough. People simply won't nOtice us. Except maybe you. You're very clever." He smirked. "For a human."

Sherlock opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. No point in picking a fight with the man who helped him out of a situation that very nearly had him stumped.

He pulled a rubber ball out of his pocket and wedged it firmly under his armpit. That would stop his pulse for a while; he never bothered to find out how. That sort of information simply wasn't worth knoWing. He stepped up to the TARDIS threshold and faced the doctor one last time. He then said something he very rarely said to anyone.

"Thank you."

The doctor smiled. "Any time. Us geniuses must stick together."


Sherlock turned back to the doorway and jumped the 2 feet to the ground.

He lay still as the paramedics rushed to scene. He fought to keep a blank face as John's voice floated over him.

"I'm a doctor...let me through...please...Sherlock...no...oh god no..."

The disbelief and pain in his friend's voice cut him deep. Deeper than he'd ever thought possible. When he thought he couldn't bare any more, it sloWly faded away; presumably John was being restrained. Someone felt his pulse.

"Dead," they announced.

Of course I'm dead, you imbecile, he thought. I just fell off a tall building. No one could survive that. Idiot.

He felt himself being lifted on a stretcher and wheeled away. Any minute now...he knew he could rely on her but still...she was cutting it fine, he felt tHem slowing him down as they neared the ambulance...these regular people are all the same...never sticking to-

"Hello can you let me through please yes this body needs to be examined before it can go anywhere yes I know you're experts but I'm more expert than you no I don't need any help thank you for your cooperation you can all go now goodbye."

Silly girl was speaking too quickly. She'll arouse suspicion. Still, it sEemed to work. He felt the air temperature change as they entered the building and then there was only the sound of the squeaky wheels of the stretcher and Molly's hurried footsteps.

After a couple of minutes, they stopped and Molly spoke to him.

"It's ok. We're alone."

He sat up and mumbled a greeting. He pulled the ball out from under his arm and flexed his fingers to get the ciRculation going again. Then he headed to the sink in the corner of the lab and began to wash the blood off his face.

"Is everything arranged?"

"Yes," Molly replied. "My uncle owns the undertakers and he never asks too many questions so it's all sorted."

"Excellent. And you really need to work on your acting skills. You probably aroused suspicion back there. Bad move."

Molly bristled. "Well I needed to get you out of there quickly before anyone important turned up, and you should try thinking fast in a situation like that. Oh, but thEn you think that fast all the tIme because you're the amazing Sherlock who can do almost everything. I say almost because you clearly weren't capable of faking your own death without help from me and that other person you're being all mysterious about."

She stopped for breath and Sherlock turned to face her, patting his face dry with a towel. She was scowling at him with her arms folded. Her expression amused him, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Don't give me that look, Mr high-and-mighty."

Sherlock sighed. "Apologies. That was uncAlled for. You were brilliant. Even with the other person who is almost as brilliant as me, I couldn't have done it without you."

Molly's face softened and her expression turned from one of annoyance to one of hope. "Really?"

"Really." Then he said something he never thought he'd say twice in one day. "Thank you."

She beamed at him in a manner not dissiMilar to the doctor's. "You're welcome."

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