Festivities and Fruitcakes

December 8

December 8: “Holmes and Watson travel through time.” (from I’m Nova)

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A/N: Feel free to skip the Author’s Note if you’re already familiar with Back to the Future.

For anybody who hasn’t seen it, Back to the Future was a movie from the ‘80s, which takes place in a fictional California town. The gist is that Doc Brown, an eccentric scientist, has turned his Delorean car into a time machine. It drives like a normal car until you reach 88 miles per hour and then bang!—you travel to whatever time it was set to go to. Doc and his friend Marty McFly, a typical electric-guitar-loving ‘80s teenager, do some traveling through time in this car.

I have put an image of Doc Brown, Mary McFly, and the Delorean with this chapter. All rights to characters & this particular go their respective owners.

Didn’t want anybody who hadn’t seen it totally in the dark! Now here’s the story:

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The phrase “an average day” took on a new meaning from the first day I began lodging with Mr. Sherlock Holmes, but even nearly half a decade of his strange mannerisms and stranger cases had not prepared me for the shocking events that memorable day in the autumn of 1885.

My friend and I had been engaged on a case in the country just south of Leicester, which Holmes had solved earlier that morning. I’d cajoled him into agreeing to take a walk with me into the countryside, because the weather had not been so nice in a long while, and it was unlikely to be so again until spring.

We had been walking for perhaps an hour, talking sometimes, but mostly silently enjoying the fresh air and each other’s company. It was about then that we heard a loud crash and the sound of the tall grass being crushed.

Holmes and I sprinted up the hill towards the sound, and when we reached the summit and peered over. The sight that greeted us was like nothing we had expected.

We both froze, and watched in horrified awe as a large, carriage-like contraction careened through the meadow, fishtailing uncontrollably but slowing rapidly. As it came to a screeching halt, it became clear that this blue metal contraption was a carriage that moved without horses. I vaguely wondered if it ran on steam power, as I’d heard others say carriages would one day would, before realizing that there may well be more serious matters to thing about.

“Come, Holmes!” I began dashing after towards the carriage, my friend behind me. “There is undoubtedly at least one person, if not two inside. We had better make sure they are not hurt!”

We began sprinting down the hill toward the carriage, which was beginning to smoke.

“Watson, look! The trail left by the carriage—” he paused to take a breath “—it begins in the middle of the meadow!”

I could only respond by shaking my head in disbelief; I did not have any breath to spare.

We were able to see the carriage more clearly as we approached. The machine was undoubtedly metal, and there were a variety of wires and pipes and gear-like things, and all matter of other machinery that I had little doubt would make any electrician’s head spin. A metal plate on the back displayed the letters “OUTATIME”.  Goodness! Where on earth had it come from?

Billowing white steam rose from every crack and crevice of the vehicle as the doors of the vehicle opened with a loud hiss.

A wide-eyed man with a shock of white hair sticking out in all directions and clad in a long white coat clambered awkwardly out of one side of the vehicle. A boy with long dark hair wearing very strange apparel—a plaid shirt, bright orange vest, trousers made of some sort of dark blue material, and white shoes adorned with a curious symbol—emerged from the opposite side.

They looked around in obvious bewilderment for a moment, before the older gentleman spotted us and began to dash toward us with an awkward, clumsy gait, the boy at his heels.

“Excuse me!” exclaimed the man breathlessly when he reached Holmes, and gestured wildly. “Could you tell me what year it is?”

Holmes and I exchanged a baffled look. Between his American accent, strange apparel, and even stranger question, the man was a total enigma to me, and the boy no better.

“Eighteen ninety-five,” my friend replied.

Both the man and the boy’s eyes widened and jaws dropped. They stared at one another in disbelief for a moment.

“Great Scott, Marty!” exclaimed the white-haired man, grabbing the boy by the shoulders and shaking him in his excitement. “We’ve traveled back a hundred years—and all the way to England!” His face broke into a wide, elated grin of sheer joy.

“Wow, that’s incredible, Doc!” the boy replied, grinning back. “How’d you do that?!”

“I installed a space-travel feature last week, and completely forgot I’d set it to England until just now!” The man couldn’t have looked happier.

“You mean to say that you are from the future?!” I gasped in disbelief, looking strange pair up and down.

“Yep!” Marty replied, crossing his arms proudly. “From 1985!”

I glanced in Holmes’s direction to gauge his reaction, and was rather surprised to see his eyes bulging and his mouth gaping. Apparently this was simply too much for him.

“Oh! Let me introduce myself,” exclaimed the man suddenly. “I am Doc Brown, and this is my young friend Marty McFly. And…who are you?”

“I am Doctor Watson, and this is my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” I replied. “It’s—er—a pleasure to meet you,” I added uncertainly.

Brown whirled to face Marty, his face full of glee. “We travel back in time, and the first people we meet are Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson?! Could this day get any better?!”

“This is crazy!” Marty replied, grinning. 

“Beg pardon?” asked Holmes, still in shock.

“You two are extremely famous in the future!” Brown explained. “You ought to come with us to 1985—we could show you!”

“Really?” I asked. “You could really do that? Take us to the future?”

Brown shrugged. “Why not? I’ve definitely got enough plutonium to get us back to 1985 Hill Valley and back here again!”

“Well, Holmes?” I turned to my friend.

My friend broke into a wide grin. “What are we waiting for?”

Doc Brown jumped in sheer glee. “Great Scott, Mary! Do you know what this means?”

“What?” asked Marty, grinning.

“We are going back to the future—with Sherlock Holmes!”

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A/N: Really Cool Announcement: I got an award for my December 7th and 8th stories!

"The Doc Brown Prize for Best Crossover (sponsored by Professor Albus Dumbledore)

For what else could this prize be awarded, but cjnwriter's 7th and 8th December prompts in which not one, not even two, but three fandoms collided! Well done cjn!"