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Prelude
“So where to now?” asked Amy. “Whatever you’d like!” the Doctor replied. “Hmm, let’s see;” said Amy, “we’ve been to 1960’s Britain.” “HA! And you thought I couldn’t get you to meet George Harrison! He’s been my mate for years!” said the Doctor. Amy continued, “We had lunch with Shakespeare.” “Yes, yes! Very good cook, he is,” replied the Doctor, “although the chicken was a bit burnt…” “And we stayed at Edgar Allen Poe’s house: all in the last week!” said Amy, “but where to now?” she pondered. “Wait a second…” said Amy, running up to her room. She snatched up her purse by her bed, and after rummaging around in it, found the book she was looking for, and ran back to the Doctor. “What’s that there, Pond?” asked the Doctor. “Sherlock Holmes,” replied Amy, holding up the novel and smiling. “I’ve always loved the story; it’s one of the few books I’ve read over ten times. So I was thinking…Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?” “Doyle?” questioned the Doctor, with a smirk. “Yes, Doyle,” said Amy, “what’s wrong with him?” The Doctor shrugged. “Well I thought you would want to meet the actual Sherlock Holmes…” Amy laughed. “The actual Sherlock Holmes? Are you mad? He’s fictional, Doctor. You’re only a time lord; you can’t make fictional characters real.” “Of course I can’t, Pond,” said the Doctor, rolling his eyes, “but what on earth made you think Sherlock Holmes was fictional?” “Well,” said Amy, “it might be the ‘this book is a work of fiction’ part on the back.” “Rubbish! That’s why I never liked Doyle. Thinks he can just take a man and create his life for him, with all these silly stories. A Scandal in Bohemia? The Red-Headed League? All fake!” said the Doctor, flipping through the pages. “Yes,” said Amy, raising her eyebrow, “that’s what fiction is: fake. Don’t you know that?” “Of course I know that! The stories are fake, but Sherlock Holmes is absolutely not! He was real! A living, breathing man, living in the 1800’s! Doyle only claimed he was fake because they were enemies during their childhood. Tried to get him back by stringing all of these absurd stories with his, apparently, fake name.” Amy cocked her head to one side. “So you’re trying to tell me that my childhood hero is actually real?” “Haven’t you been listening? Of course he’s real!” said the Doctor, exasperatedly. “Now come along, Pond,” said the Doctor, grinning, “We’re going to pay Mr. Holmes a little visit.”
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