He heard the noise outside his window but dared not move, instead he closed his eyes and settled further into the couch, making his hands a little steeple and rubbing the bottom of his chin. Still it persisted, testifying that it was very real. Vworp vworp vworp!

Amy stepped out of the TARDIS, turning to look at the Doctor and nodding thanks to him. The Time Lord looked displeased at best as he turned away from her and shot River Song a miffed glare. The Doctor's wife merely shrugged, bidding her mother good-bye with a small wave as the doors closed behind her. She had begged and pleaded with her friend to allow her to come back and at last he had relented, only for a few minutes though.

221b looked the same as ever, save for the fat flakes of snow falling from the sky and clinging to the ground. She treads carefully, avoiding ice patches as she knocked once on the door.

John heard the knock and judging by the way Sherlock jumped he knew it had to be her. "Are you going to get that?" he asked his flatmate and Holmes looked mortified by the thought.

"I-I can't get the door right now, I'm thinking." He snapped.

Amy hugged herself, praying that he was home. Footsteps sounded on the stairs and there was fidgeting on the other side of the door as locks were undone and the door swung open.

John stared at the shivering woman with the bright red hair for only a second as she pushed past him without a second glance and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Sherlock was already in the doorway, his eyes wide as he stared at her, snow still on her. "You came back." He said nonchalantly.

"Don't play sociopath with me Holmes." She quipped, not waiting for permission as she hugged him fiercely.

John watched the world's only consulting detective and the time traveler hold each other, feeling as though he was intruding on something private. The pale man in his white shirt gripping Amy as though his world was rooted to her, his sanity anchored by her existence.

"Does time and space not hold the same amount of excitement as you previously believed?" Sherlock asked her. She tightened her hold in him, brining a frail white hand to tangle in his soft black curls.

The door opened again and John saw a man with a floppy fringe and a bowtie enter. "Amy we've got to-," his voice died as he saw her at the top of the stairs.

Sherlock tensed up. "You're not staying?"

"I can't." she murmured to him. "Even if I wanted too, there's quite a messy universe out there as of now that the Doctor and I have to clean up."

"There's nothing I can do?" he asked, their faces inches apart.

She smiled faintly. "You work on saving London and I'll save the world." She untangled herself and turned to descend the stairs when the tall man grabbed her hand.

"You'll come back?"

"Of course," she vowed as he released her and watched her leave with the Time Lord, who shot Sherlock a nasty glare.