Fic: Doctor Who/Sherlock: The Madman and the Box (complete)
Title: The Madman and the Box
Fandom: Doctor Who/Sherlock
Rating: Uhhh... PG? -is guessing-
Wordcount: 336
Summary: Different Madman. Same Box
Disclaimer: I hold no ownership of any part of either Doctor Who, or Sherlock, in any way, shape, or form. This is just for the sheer fun of it.
Spoiler warnings: The Doctor's Wife
Characters: Sherlock, Idris
Notes: I blame oxfordtweed for linking me to the damn Sherlock KinkMeme. From this prompt here.
Story warnings: Un-beta'd, written in about 5 minutes (Yes, I type fast, shut up).
--
There is no probable reason for this to be happening. Possible, yes, but perhaps only in the same manner that talking dogs are possible - if one could alter their throats so that the voicebox stayed in the lower position all the time, perhaps, rather than only mid-bark.
But she's digressing, and after all, it's highly improbable for her to be a blue police box which travels through the space-time vortex, and know she's a blue police box which travels through the space-time vortex and whose Thief never opens the doors correctly - she can feel it herself, right now, falling through space; though that may just be the turn of this strange planet beneath her, oh what's the blasted word, they go in shoes and if you cut them off you keep dancing.
There is also the matter of the strange man who is examining her with the magnifying glass. Where he pulled the magnifying glass from is something she's put down to the perfection of the personal pocket dimension, as the man is skinny and the coat he's wearing shows no signs of more in the pockets than the occasional hand and a mobile.
She really isn't quite certain how she knows what all these words are, and is equally certain she doesn't know what all those words could be, and so it takes her a few unidentifiable timeframes before she looks at him and asks if he would help her find her thief.
The man goes very quiet for a few slow seconds, then gives her a smile that if she didn't know she never would do this, makes her wonder what it had been like to bite him.
"Of course."
And that was a few more strange timespans - before? ago? after? This language was improbably difficult to master and sometimes she shook when she knew what would happen next and couldn't change a single thing.
Though at least in that time she'd been able to learn about the fingers of fish.
Fandom: Doctor Who/Sherlock
Rating: Uhhh... PG? -is guessing-
Wordcount: 336
Summary: Different Madman. Same Box
Disclaimer: I hold no ownership of any part of either Doctor Who, or Sherlock, in any way, shape, or form. This is just for the sheer fun of it.
Spoiler warnings: The Doctor's Wife
Characters: Sherlock, Idris
Notes: I blame oxfordtweed for linking me to the damn Sherlock KinkMeme. From this prompt here.
Story warnings: Un-beta'd, written in about 5 minutes (Yes, I type fast, shut up).
--
There is no probable reason for this to be happening. Possible, yes, but perhaps only in the same manner that talking dogs are possible - if one could alter their throats so that the voicebox stayed in the lower position all the time, perhaps, rather than only mid-bark.
But she's digressing, and after all, it's highly improbable for her to be a blue police box which travels through the space-time vortex, and know she's a blue police box which travels through the space-time vortex and whose Thief never opens the doors correctly - she can feel it herself, right now, falling through space; though that may just be the turn of this strange planet beneath her, oh what's the blasted word, they go in shoes and if you cut them off you keep dancing.
There is also the matter of the strange man who is examining her with the magnifying glass. Where he pulled the magnifying glass from is something she's put down to the perfection of the personal pocket dimension, as the man is skinny and the coat he's wearing shows no signs of more in the pockets than the occasional hand and a mobile.
She really isn't quite certain how she knows what all these words are, and is equally certain she doesn't know what all those words could be, and so it takes her a few unidentifiable timeframes before she looks at him and asks if he would help her find her thief.
The man goes very quiet for a few slow seconds, then gives her a smile that if she didn't know she never would do this, makes her wonder what it had been like to bite him.
"Of course."
And that was a few more strange timespans - before? ago? after? This language was improbably difficult to master and sometimes she shook when she knew what would happen next and couldn't change a single thing.
Though at least in that time she'd been able to learn about the fingers of fish.