Something is Wrong (Johnlock and DoctorWho)

Chapter 19- End

This chapter goes out to those five readers who seemingly stick around my horrendous writing. I'm wrapping this up cause lack of viewers. Enjoy. And Thank You.

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"Paradoxy oxy thingies!"

"Lovely umpie singing!"

"Two of me, two of you!"

"What kind of time are we going through?!"

The Doctress and Jenny were singing some kind of insane song while working the TARDIS. Shakespeare, who had been taken by these two multiple times, joined in, making Rose and Jack nauseous.

When they arrived back at 221 Baker Street, The Doctress happily let them in the flat, her TARDIS now facing the East.

"Let's go on in!" She said happily, finding the mood calm and John still starring at the oven and Moriarty still sitting on the love seat.

"Captain Jack Harkness, nice to meet you." Jack introduced himself to Moriarty, sending a flirtatious wink at the criminal mastermind. Seriously, you could ship Jack with an alpaca and it make perfect sense.

The Doctress happily dragged Sherlock to the real Shakespeare and got them chatting before stealing everyone's phones and borrowing Rose from a conversation with Jenny and Jenny follow her knowingly, handing the girls the phones. "Let's make the call!" The three girls grinned hopefully, dialing the number on all the phones at once.

One sound that could be described as the sound of space and time emitted from beside the red TARDIS, and the Doctress grinned at the memory that her elder brother never learned to operate the brakes, and as the blue box solidified and a man that was called many thing stepped out, wearing a blue tie an a trenchcoat like hers, his hair ruffled and a smile coming to his face when he saw the two familiar women.

"Rose! Jenny!" The Tenth Doctor yelled, lifting his arms in a giant Y. "How- How are you here?"

"Your sister is the cause of that!" Jenny says, smiling and a tear escapes her eye, placing a hand on her aunt's shoulder.

"Hello brother. You said we would find each other." The Doctress said, walking up to her brother.

"It's nice to see you again.... And Rose.... And Jen." The Doctor said, tears falling down his face which he tried to wipe away with his sleeve.

"And your still not a ginger." The Doctress commented, hugging him. The two laughed before the Doctress pulled back and let the others hug him, walking backwards through the thick layer of snow back to 221b Baker Street. "Party and a heater are inside mind you!" She told them, smiling and walking in.

"Be there in a moment! Me and the Doctor and his daughter need to talk!" Rose called, waving.

"Okay." The Doctress said, pulling the door closed and distributing phones in pockets as she walked past the party goers, sneaking up into a room to find the sociopath and his blogger cuddling together on a chair and talking about how the party was impossible. Utterly impossible.

Pulling a mildly burnt cake from the oven and refilling drinks, the Doctress watched the party simply as an onlooker. That's what she was. She clutched the drink to her chest, one hand on the handle and another holding the bottom, watching the chatter between the many people.

She had tossed together the craziest group of people for Christmas. Presents overflowed from under the tree. Making a mental note to tell Jack to bring presents, she slid down the wall and smiled, someone turning on some classic music on a radio somewhere in the flat.

Laughter and love hung in the air and happiness. That's what the Doctress loved seeing. Freedom. Love. Happiness. She had a cause to give to the world.

The party dispersed after a few hours, presents were given out, people left, but the Doctress sat on the floor, only getting up every so often to refill glasses and put the pitcher in the sink.

Soon it was the Doctress and the other dimensional humans and two Timelords. Her elder brother held out a hand and she happily took it, everyone saying long goodbyes as she shoved them into the TARDIS.

With Goodnights and Merry Christmas, the Doctress dropped them all off, waving to many of them and later sitting on a doorstep, of 221d, of Baker Street.

End.