A/N: Yes, it's happened, I'm sorry. This is the final chapter. :'(

This chapter is dedicated to all those who have read this/ added it to story alerts/favourites lists/ and especially reviewed! You all rule!

egaara: Thanks for your review! Here's the last chapter - I hope you enjoy it! (:

Monetary Value: Ok, first off - that was one of the nicest reviews I have ever received! Thank you so much! :D I'm so happy that you enjoyed it (especially with the squee-ing!) Thank you! The fact that you think they're in character has made me so happy, because that's what I was most worried about (: You, my friend, are epic! Long live the Adipose!

wingless1: Hello! Another new face is always welcomed :D Here - have some jelly (: Thank you for your comments - they were muchly loved! If I ever indulge my hungry plot bunnies, I'll let you know :D (unless, of course, you fancy writing it? ;) )

misskam: I couldn't resist :') I'm a sucker for a cliché! My pleasure - hope you enjoy this last chapter :D

Disclaimer: yes! I now own the BBC, and got engaged to Benedict this weekend. We are expecting the marriage to take place in October. Meanwhile - in real life; Just no.

Tick Tock goes the clock, even for my fiction…

"Right. Does everyone know what they're doing?" The Doctor asked for the seventh time in the space of two minutes. Amy sighed in exasperation.

"Oh come on Doctor, it's hardly rocket science. In fact, I thought you'd be quite good at it, considering it's all based primarily around-"

"RUN!" Rory interrupted, and they obeyed; all four of them: The Doctor, Amy, Rory and Sherlock running through the front door and down the crowded street; pursued by a jogging Watson and a small old lady with a purse.

"Is she following?" Amy panted out between strides, her hair slipping from beneath the hat and rather ruining her 'disguise'.

Sherlock glanced back, "Yes" He replied. He didn't even seem out of breath. Now that was just unfair, Amy grumbled.

"Oh good." The Doctor interrupted, "I do love it when a plan works out."

He almost spoke too soon, however, when they narrowly dodged a market stall laden with fruit. John was gaining on them now, and they could hear his breathless chuckle near the backs of their feet. When they swerved off down the alleyway he was quick to follow, and when Mrs Hudson rounded the corner, she found herself manhandled into a big blue box before she could even open her mouth to protest.

She didn't realise she'd squeezed her eyes shut until she opened them again, and was greeted with the strangest sight. In front of her was a room so massive and unnatural she concluded that it must be from another world. Another country at the very least. She couldn't believe this entire building fitted inside that one blue box.

She broke the expectant silence with the hushed lines; "It's bigger on the inside…"

The Doctor clapped his hands in victory before turning to face Sherlock, "Haha! That's how it's done!" He crowed, "At least she knows how to behave."

"Who's she? The cat's mother?" Mrs Hudson retorted. It hadn't yet occurred to her to be scared, but she wouldn't be spoken to rudely anyway. Even by a man with a ship from another world. She spun around to face John, who had the same shocked expression on his face as he looked first at the ceiling, then at Sherlock, then at the console, then back to Sherlock. "John?" She questioned him. "What is going on? I take it they aren't thieves then."

But John didn't get a chance to answer before the Doctor interrupted, speaking at about fifty miles an hour and barely stopping for breath. "You see Mrs Hudson, John here is from the future, and so are you actually, but you don't know it yet. Well, I guess you know it now. Either way - you're both from the future. So is Sherlock" He added as an afterthought, pointing out the tall man to his right, "actually, on second thoughts - so is everyone here; it's like a reunion! Right sorry, it all started with a crack in the kitchen. Basically, you fell through it; and here you are!"

She looked at him, and then nodded slowly. "Right. Well I can't say I remember, but you do hear of some weird things happening. Why, only the other day Mrs Turner's lodgers… but you don't need to worry about that. So. What are you going to do about this?"

The Doctor looked crestfallen. "Is that it? No arguments, claims I'm crazy, nothing? You just… agree?"

"I might be old, young man, but I am not stupid."

"Right. Of course not, no. Sorry."

"That's fine love. You were saying?"

The Doctor looked a little confused at the strange exchange, but continued regardless. "Yes. This is my ship, and we're going to take you back home."

"Well, best get on then hadn't you? I've got washing to do later." And, with that, she turned around and sat on one of the long benches along the wall, crossing her ankles daintily. The Doctor got the distinct impression she was humouring him.

No-one really seemed to know how to react to her completely un-phased behaviour, but there didn't really seem to be anything they could do about it. They'd planned for kicking and screaming, not calm acceptance. So the Doctor sent Amy to keep an eye on her whilst he got them home, as a precautionary measure, in case she had a sudden change-of-heart.

Sherlock had a few questions of his own, and he followed the Doctor around the Tardis console - observing him as he pressed buttons and pulled levers in an almost frantic fashion. Finally, the time-lord turned to face him, "Yes?"

"What are we going to do about her Doctor? She doesn't remember, it's a whole new world to her."

"I'll think of something" He muttered; flicking a cube until it rolled into a hole in the console. "Finally! Been trying to get that to work for years…"

"What about everyone else? Will they remember them when we get back?"

"Don't you worry, I have a plan. Just keep an eye on your Doctor and I'll keep an eye on mine…me."

Sherlock glared but turned to go anyway, smiling as he passed Rory on the stairs. When the Doctor next looked at him, he was deep in conversation with John, who reached up to wipe the sooty mark from his cheek. Damn it. Oh well; someone would have told him eventually anyway.

It wasn't long before Amy's increasingly irritated voice could be heard over the sound of the Tardis' engine.

"There's nothing wrong with it!"

"Well it's very messy, could you not just give it a quick dust round?"

"It's old! And it's not even mine, the Doctor should do it!"

"Well he's too busy driving dear. You don't seem to do much, it wouldn't take two minutes!""I do more around here than Rory!"

"Oh yes, very handsome isn't he? Not as handsome as John mind you, but quite a catch…"

The Doctor grinned, this Hudson lady was proving to be one of his favourite hitchhikers.

…

They landed with a jolt that sent Sherlock sprawling awkwardly to the floor, John pulled him up, laughing at his injured expression.

Mrs Hudson was the first to speak, she piped up loudly from her perch, "Well your landings could do with a bit of work."

And that was all it took to set Amy off, she giggled slightly, then full belly-laughed when she saw the Doctor's expression. It wasn't long before the others joined in; she had an infectious laugh, and they had a lot of tension to work out. In the back of his mind the Doctor mused that it was the happiest the Tardis had sounded for a while.

"Home at last!" He announced, throwing open the door to reveal the inside of 221B Baker Street, exactly how Sherlock had left it, right down to the smashed mugs of tea on the kitchen floor. The white light had seemingly backtracked once it had engulfed everyone in the flat, and was now only surrounding the teacups. "Everybody out!"

They filed through the door one at a time, John pushing past Sherlock to get out first, before sinking ungracefully into his favourite armchair, an audible sigh pushing past his lips. Sherlock was next, and he smiled to see how right it looked to have John back where he belonged, despite the Victorian clothing. Mrs Hudson bustled out amidst cries from Amy who she'd apparently jostled past.

She stepped out in obvious interest, then looked at the sofa in front of her before practically screaming "What have you done with my wall?"

Sherlock just smiled fondly and said nothing.

The Ponds were next, followed closely by the Doctor who made a beeline for the kitchen. A whirring noise could be heard before a sickening crunch. When he sauntered back into the living room he was smiling cheerily, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Crack's fixed." he announced to no-one in particular, "All sorted. No more Victorian adventures for you lot."

The relief on John's face grew even larger at this comment - if such a thing were possible.

"What about me?" Mrs Hudson questioned, eyebrows halfway up her forehead. "I live there."

"No you don't." The Doctor said, frowning slightly. "You live here. Now. This time period." He looked over at Sherlock, and the taller man's expression of genuine concern for the older woman was enough to win him round. "Wait a second, won't be long. Come along Ponds!"

He dragged them back into the Tardis, jacket whirling impressively behind him. A few seconds later the sound of wheezing vanished, then reappeared. John didn't even have the energy to look surprised at the impossible machine.

When the Tardis came back into view, Mrs Hudson was no longer sat on the sofa if 221B, she had simply vanished into thin air. When the Doctor stepped out again Sherlock looked at him in confusion.

"Where is she?"

"Downstairs, in her flat. Fell asleep during 'Loose Women' I believe." The Doctor winked.

"Won't she remember?"

"Not at all. Misplaced timeline, happens all the time. Well, a bit. Rarely."

John pitched in from the armchair, "So she'll forget about the Victorians?"

"Yep. And me I suppose. Shame really, she was fun - if she ever needs a lift to Mars I'm always here."

"And the rest? They'll all remember John now?" Sherlock questioned, glancing at his flatmate as he struggled to stay awake in the armchair.

"Oh yes. I've, ermm, closed the crack, your timelines are back on track. Kind of."

"What do you mean 'kind of'?" Sherlock asked, nose wrinkled in confusion.

"Nothing! You're fine. Just go and fight criminals, defeat Moriarty and all that. Must dash, I'm sure I'll see you around again; in fact - I know I will." He finished with a thoughtful expression. He rushed over to the detective, and gave him a quick hug, before kissing the air either side of his cheeks, John got the same treatment, which he amusedly reciprocated.

Amy and Rory came rushing out in time for a hug and a quick peck on the cheek (in Amy's case), before they waved and walked back inside their impossible box.

"Until next time" Sherlock called, John merely chuckled tiredly.

And with that, The Doctor shut the door of the Tardis, and the sound of it disappearing once again filled the living room. When it had gone there seemed to be an empty space, like something was missing from the flat.

Sherlock looked at John in all his Victorian finery; leant back against the armchair almost asleep - and grinned. When the smaller man cracked opened his eyes and asked "What?" , it only made him chuckle more. Soon they were both laughing quietly, the flat feeling warmer now it's occupants had returned.

It was only after a few minutes of comfortable silence that Sherlock noticed something.

"Wait. I didn't tell him about Moriarty, did you?"

John opened his eyes, which had slipped shut again, "No, it's not like we had a chance to have a chat, I thought you must have done."

"Well I didn't, so how did he know about that?"

…

Back in the Tardis, Rory and Amy were busy fangirling over the day.

"So that was The Sherlock Holmes?" Rory asked, his voice laced with enthusiasm.

"Yep!" The Doctor replied, "And John Watson eh? What a day…"

"Why were they in 2011 then? I thought they were fictional, book characters… I'd never heard of them as anything other than the characters back at home." Amy said, her curiosity giving out now that the subjects weren't there to hear it.

"I don't know…" The Doctor mused. "Sometimes the universe works in mysterious ways."

He left the Ponds to their cheerful bickering and turned back to the console, bringing up a digital image of number 221, Baker Street. In all the excitement it had almost slipped his notice, but now it was unmistakeable. He sighed; at least he had an excuse to visit them again.

Because above the top floor of Sherlock and John's flat, there was an extra floor. A floor that didn't make sense. A floor that didn't exist.

Sometimes, he wondered if time wasn't just out to get him.

A/N: So that's it! I'm quite sad now it's over, it's been such fun to write :')

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