A Police Box on Baker Street

The Two Doctors

Author's Note: Hey, everyone! Sorry I haven't updated this in a while! I've been extremely busy with school and stuff. I've tried to capture the characters in this chapter as best I could in this chapter, but if there's any strange behavior it'll be explained later. Thanks and enjoy!

Chapter 4: The Doctor's POV

"Here we are, home sweet home," I said. "So who was this you wanted me to meet--hey! Where are you going?"

But Sherlock was already out the door, throwing it shut behind him.

"Of course he's one of the ones that runs off. Sherlock!" I called, running out the door after him. When I stepped outside, I saw that it was still dark outside, and I was pleased to see that it looked like I had gotten Sherlock back home on the same night. I looked around for the detective, and I just caught sight of a long black coat disappearing inside a door before I ran after him.

The door Sherlock had disappeared into was marked with a golden 221B coupled with a big brass knocker. The door was still slightly ajar, which was good, because I would have felt uncomfortable sonicing and entering into the flat of someone I'd just met. I pushed the door open and walked inside; I barely had time to take in the landing area before I heard the shouting.

"Seventy-two hours, Sherlock! You were gone for three days without contact and I had no idea where you were!" A voice that was higher-pitched than the detective's rang throughout the flat. Okay, so maybe it wasn't the same day as we had left. A few seconds later, I heard my name called and the heavy sound of footsteps making their way down the staircase that was in front of me.

"Doctor!" Sherlock called. "You need to explain this!" He got to the bottom of the stairs, rested on the bottom step, and glared at me.

I stared blankly at him for a while until I realized that I was to follow him upstairs. It wasn't until Sherlock's eyebrows skyrocketed into his mop of dark brown curls that I realized this, though. "Right! Okay. What exactly do I say then?" 

Sherlock sighed. "Follow me." He turned around and marched up the stairs. I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it a second later and followed him. When I got to the top of the stairs, I entered what appeared to be the main sitting room of the flat. Books, probably Sherlock's, were scattered all around the room, and I could see an adjoining kitchen that was littered with experiments that were almost definitely the detective's. I saw Sherlock standing next to a man much shorter than him with sandy hair and a gray jumper on, and I recognized him instantly. He did not look pleased.

"Ah, you must be Doctor John Watson, then," I said. "I really do enjoy your blog. Have you been updating it lately?" 

"Who exactly are you and what have you and Sherlock been doing for the past three days?" John did not seem amused. Sherlock, who had been furious with me earlier, now seemed ashamed around John, if anything. His face didn't show a lot of emotion, but I could tell he felt guilty about leaving his flatmate for three days. I suddenly wondered if the two men before me were just flatmates....

"I'm the Doctor, and trust me, I haven't kidnapped your flatmate or anything. I just wanted to show him something."

"What could you possibly have to show him that would take three days for him to come home? Did you leave the country?" John demanded.

"Technically, yes," I said calmly. I quickly realized that this was a bad idea. John rounded on his friend. 

"I thought you just left the flat that night! I didn't think you'd leave the country!" 

"Obviously I didn't want to leave the country. It wasn't really my decision," said Sherlock. 

John looked confused. "So you did take him away against his will," he said slowly, each word measured as if he was trying to make sense of this conversation.