John was in the middle of his first date with Mary when his phone rang. He mouthed an apologetic, 'sorry' to the attractive blonde, then carefully edged his way out of the crowded restaurant.

"What is it, Sherlock?" John snapped. He was a bit irritable, considering the fact that it had taken him three weeks to get Mary to go out with him, and any reason that Sherlock had to call him would inevitably spoil his plans for the night.

"Are you up to a short trip?"

John glared at the phone, as if the detective could feel his wrath through the phone. Through gritted teeth, he attempted to convey his frustration towards the detective.

"Sherlock, I'm in the middle of a date here, and I told you already that I couldn't care less about going on a trip with two egos and my ex-girlfriend."

Silence.

"I swear, if you're up to something again, I will personally confiscate any frozen body parts lying around in our fridge-"

"Think up a better threat next time, won't you? I've already entrusted the kidneys to Molly for safekeeping, as I won't be returning to the flat for quite a while."

John spun around, almost tripping over his own feet.

"What the hell?! What are you doing here?"

Sherlock sniffed over his scarf, standing near the entrance to the restaurant. Skulduggery Pleasant and... the other detective rounded the corner.

"We're coming to get you," Skulduggery said cheerfully. His face was different again. This one had messy black hair and sharp blue eyes. His cheekbones were sharp, as usual, and this time he had a very pale complexion. John didn't think that he'd ever get used to the skeleton's facades.

She didn't say anything. She just stood there with her arms crossed, standing a tiny bit closer to her partner than usual.

"I told you that I'm on a date, Sherlock! I am not leaving until it's over. Now, can you stop interfering with my social life please?!"

He turned to go back inside, but Mary brushed past him.

"You didn't come back for a while. This date's over. Oh, and don't forget to pay the bill."

Before John could say a word, Mary swept over to her.

"And who are you?" Mary asked with a fake smile.

She answered back with a sickeningly polite voice.

"Oh, just another one of that bastard's ex-girlfriends. I'm sure that you'll be joining the club before very long."

Mary's lips tightened, then she slapped her and left.

John noticed that Mary tripped and fell into a large puddle in the middle of the street. The slim woman limped away, wiping mud off of her skirt when there hadn't been any rain. She smirked.

John threw up his hands in exasperation, facing Sherlock.

"Well! Now that you've successfully ruined any chances I had with her, why don't you tell me what the hell these jerks are doing here!"

Sherlock started walking.

"We are going to find the Doctor."

They took Skulduggery's car. John sat in the back with Sherlock. He was fine with that. It meant that he didn't have to talk to her.

On the other hand, he was still mad at Sherlock. John wasn't sure whether he was glad or not that the detective didn't try to talk to him; if he knew any better, Sherlock would be absorbed in his self-imposed 'case' for quite a while.

The car ride was tense. She was driving, quite recklessly too, but nobody said a word. John wasn't about to talk to Sherlock or Skulduggery, and he definitely wasn't going to strike up a conversation with her. Sherlock wasn't going to say anything for the whole car ride. Skulduggery appeared to be sleeping, if skeletons could sleep. And she looked as unhappy as him about the whole situation.

After a while of watching the street lights pass by and getting used to the sharp turns that she made while driving, John finally fell asleep. He had strange dreams, ones that he wouldn't quite remember when he woke up. There was a man, and a girl, and a warm golden light inside of a blue box. The girl would smile, and take the man's hand, and whether they were running away or towards something he wasn't quite sure. But he did know that they didn't care either way.

He woke up when Sherlock pushed his head off of his shoulder. Sherlock did 'the look', the one that made John feel really small and clueless for a second.

"Refrain from using my shoulder as a cushion."

John was about to retort, except Sherlock was back to thinking about the stupid case. He would've tried to go back to sleep, except the car came to a screeching stop and they all got out of the car.

"Where are we?" John asked.

She rolled her eyes.

"Didn't you hear Mr. Ego over there?" She said, pointing to Sherlock. "We're at a conspiracy theorist's house. I think his name is Clive Finch...?"

John gritted his teeth. He didn't need her to tell him that.

Skulduggery walked up to the house and rang the doorbell. A wide man opened the door.

"Ah, Mr. Pleasant! Come right this way."

Their small group shuffled into the house and to the back, where there was a shed (John couldn't think of any other word for it, really.) Clive pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

Inside was the habitat of an obsessor. The walls were plastered with pictures, and John couldn't see what the original wall looked like. There were dozens of notebooks stacked haphazardly all over the place, and more pictures graced the floors. It was spectacularly dusty, as well. John's first thought was to get out of there. The detectives didn't seem as inclined.

Sherlock and Skulduggery carefully observed the photographs. Even she seemed to find something interesting. John couldn't care less. He was more preoccupied wondering where Mary was.

"It's the same man," Sherlock said abruptly. "The same man in different periods of time."

Skulduggery nodded.

"Not just that, but he seems to be appearing whenever there's been a crisis in the time period. Anything you'd like to add, Valkyrie?"

She tilted her head for a second, staring intently.

"There was something to do with magic surrounding each crisis, wasn't there? Gordon told me a little about this."

Skulduggery smiled, his blue eyes glinting proudly for a short second.

"You're right. Now, let's go."

The three swept out of the tiny shed, leaving John and a very stunned man alone together. John sighed.

"Sorry about that."

Clive just stared.

John took a deep breath, and followed the three insufferable idiots to the car.