I must here apologise for taking ages in updating this story. I also have to admit to not knowing where it's going. It's just a bit of fun that I hope you enjoy. :)

It took two cups of tea and a lot of attempts as reassurance from Sherlock before John's speech became fully comprehensible. He far more than Sherlock could not believe what had happened – that they had somehow travelled in time overnight, and not only that, but Mrs Hudson existed in the Victorian times as well as in the modern era. About half an hour later they were both in the armchairs that their "past selves" usually occupied, with Mrs Hudson sitting across from them on a stool she had drawn up, and it was almost like normal, except for the clattering of hooves down the street outside, and the smell of pipe-smoke that seemed to fill the room.

'When did you say Dr Watson and Mr Holmes would return?' asked Sherlock at length, referring to their doubles by these names so the others wouldn't get confused (he had a very low opinion of the brains of everyone, including his friends).

'Ooh, they said today at the latest,' Mrs Hudson told him.

'This will be interesting,' Sherlock commented with a grin. 'I've always wanted to meet myself.'

It was this sort of comment that made John's head begin to spin, and Sherlock, noticing this, changed the subject. 'I might take a walk in London later, take a look at everything.'

'You're not usually a sightseeing person,' John said in surprise.

'Sightseeing? Hardly,' Sherlock said. 'Victorian cases, if I can find any, will be a good change from –' He stopped abruptly. 'I think Holmes and Watson are home.'

Both John and Mrs Hudson blinked: they had heard the cab coming up the street, and stopping a short way down from the house, but neither of them could have said with confidence who was in it.

'How do you know?' asked John.

'I can hear their voices,' Sherlock said vaguely, with a glance towards the window: two clatters indicated two men jumping from the cab, and the voices that floated up towards the window of 221B seemed to be getting closer. One of the approaching people spoke in an RP English voice that was, if anything, more clipped than Sherlock's, and the other had a somewhat more down-to-earth accent that, though it didn't sound a lot like John's, it was at the same time somehow identifiable as his double's.

They came to the door to the house: and Mrs Hudson at once jumped up, saying that she had better prepare them for the sight of their doubles sitting in the lounge and wearing their clothes. Therefore she scurried off downstairs, and, after a brief conversation, the 19th-century Baker Street gang came upstairs.

On seeing their doppelgangers, they both froze. After a moment, Holmes clapped his hands in childish delight and went to shake hands with Sherlock, whilst Dr Watson continued to stand in the doorway and look baffled.

More tea was of course required, and eventually they all got over the initial shock. There weren't enough armchairs and so they drew up chairs from the kitchen around the fire, and sat staring at each other for a bit before a topic for conversation was found. Sherlock threw in some comment about the physics of time travel, and Holmes contributed a little to this, drawing from his (admittedly limited) knowledge of science, which, as it was the 19th century, was only a bit skewed. John and Dr Watson just sort of stared at each other for a bit until they were absorbed into the general conversation. It was quite the most bizarre conversation that either of them had ever had (and in truth they had both had some pretty weird conversations in the past).

'I have a box on Saturday for a premiere of a new work,' Holmes was saying. 'If you are here a while, you might like to accompany me.'

Sherlock's eyes flashed around the room; then, looking a little startled despite himself, he said, 'It isn't Saint-Saens's third, by any chance?'

'The third symphony by Camille Saint-Saens; indeed,' Holmes replied. 'Oh! I suppose you already know what it sounds like.'

'I'd like to hear its English premiere though,' said Sherlock, who was grinning.

'Saint-Saens,' murmured John. 'Is he the Carnival of the Animals guy?'

He didn't know a good deal about classical music, and nor was he particularly interested in it, but the name at least was fairly well-known.

'Yes,' said Sherlock. Holmes looked baffled. 'Well,' Sherlock considered. 'Carnival wasn't published until after the composer's death... You've got that to look forward to.'

'This is making my head spin,' said John. He swallowed another mouthful of tea, which seemed to improve matters a little.

A few minutes later, it so happened that the Sherlock Holmeses decided to take a walk in the city, and "look for crime" as they called it. The excitement that flickered on both faces – which were at once bizarrely similar and yet distinctively different – made John wonder if they were going to act like children all day. He commented as much to Watson, who said that his Holmes had never really passed the age of ten. John found himself admitting that the same could be said of Sherlock.

Nevertheless, all four of them set out that very minute, placing their hats on their heads and saying farewell to Mrs Hudson before stepping onto the bustling street outside and breathing in the heady air of Victorian London.