Time and Relative Dimensions in Baker Street - Chapter 1

"I'm BORED, John!" Sherlock Holmes yelled, pacing wildly around the room. It was around ten o'clock on a Wednesday morning in the middle of May, and Sherlock hadn't been on a case since Monday. John was sitting in his armchair, reading.

"Wasn't there some kind of murder thing in the paper this morning?" John asked, not bothering to look up.

"What? Where?" Sherlock snapped, snatching the morning paper out of John's hands. His eyes skimmed down the article on the front page, the headline of which read, 'Murder on Marylebone Street'.

"That headline makes it sound like some cheesy horror film." John said, rolling his eyes. "Tabloids."

But Sherlock wasn't listening. He'd pulled his phone out and was making a call.

"Lestrade, why didn't you tell me there'd been a murder?" He practically yelled down the phone. "I'm coming over now… I don't care if you're 'on top of things'… I'm so bored I'm going to shoot something, that's why." He hung up. "John, we're going to the crime scene."

"What?" John protested. "But I haven't even had breakfast yet."

"It's only round the corner. I think better on an empty stomach."

John knew it was no use complaining further. He followed Sherlock as he grabbed his coat and ran downstairs. On their way out they bumped into Mrs Hudson.

"Oh, are you boys off out?" She asked.

"There's been a murder just round the corner." John explained.

"That's a shame." She replied "I've got a nice man coming to look round the basement flat."

"Well I hope we get to meet him some other time. But for now I've got to trail around after Sherlock for a bit."

They rushed out of the door and down the street. In his excitement, Sherlock nearly knocked down a passing man.

"Sorry!" John yelled back, knowing Sherlock wouldn't.

"It's okay." The man smiled. He was young and slim, with longish brown hair. He was wearing a tweed jacket and a red bowtie, and he was heading up the steps to 221 Baker Street.

Almost as soon as Sherlock and John left, the doorbell rang again. Mrs Hudson put down the cup of tea she'd just poured and went to answer it.

"Hello!" The man outside beamed up at her. "You must be Mrs Hudson."

"You here for the flat?" She replied. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name when you phoned me."

"Doctor Smith. You can call me the Doctor."

"One of my boys upstairs is a doctor too! I'm afraid you've just missed the, they're off to visit a crime scene. Sherlock's a detective, you see. Would you like some tea before I show you the flat?"

"A cuppa would be lovely."

Mrs Hudson showed him in, and poured another cup of tea from the pot.

"Ah, you'll want references." The Doctor said, digging through his pockets. "I've done this before." He pulled out a smallish blue wallet and handed it to her.

"The Archbishop of Canterbury?" She exclaimed.

"Me and Archie go way back." He said, and proceeded to down his tea in one gulp. "Right, onwards."

Mrs Hudson tentatively put down her still half full cup of now lukewarm tea, and followed the Doctor out the door and to 221c.