Chapter Eight

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The Doctor, led by Detective Inspector Lestrade and company, went into the house. Captain Jack and Kate caught the Doctor up on the people- mainly Sherlock Holmes. The Rechinbach heroes's resurrection was kind of a big deal in London.

"A consulting detective? I don't believe I've met one of those- hey, where is this Mr. Holmes, anyways?" said the Doctor.

Lestrade's eyes widened. Sherlock was like a child- if you didn't watch him, well... You get what I mean.

"WHERE IS SHERLOCK HOLMES?" boomed Lestrade. Donavan did a face-palm.

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The TARDIS started to groan and shake, as if it was being pushed and pulled at from the outside. Sherlock grabbed the control panel as he lost his footing, flicking a few switches on the way down. His scarf got caught on a sharp piece of metal.

Sherlock looked up as the TARDIS started to make a odd wheezing sound. It was like someone had left the breaks on, or the rugged box was coming to its last days. Sherlock watched, fascinated, at what seemed like a once broken time machine mend it's self- and disappear, leaving him behind.

In a few moments, all that was left was the consulting detective, a torn scarf, and a field near a house where someone had been murdered.

And the time machine?

It was gone.

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