When Fandoms Collide (PJ, HP, DW, AF, SH, and every other fandom I can think of)
It all began with a blue box.
I couldn't decide what to write about, so I'm just like what the heck, I'll write about everything! Let's see... Doctor Who is the main thing here, but there's also some Sherlock, Artemis Fowl, Fablehaven, Harry Potter, the Hunger Games, Lord of the Rings, Mysterious Benedict Society, Inkheart, Pirates of the Carribean... If you've read/watched all of these, you deserve a TARDIS!
Sherlock opened his eyes. Imagining it just wasn't the same as holding it in his hands. The cruel air whistled past his body. He was flying, ready to embrace the ground. He would be remembered as a fake. John would never forgive him for this.
Then a noise penetrated his ears, a noise he had only heard once before in his life, and then he'd been just a baby.
What was it?
He stared down. He couldn't make out anything very well what with falling to his death, but he could definitely distinguish blue. Faded, wooden blue. It was directly beneath him, suspended in mid-air. Hallucinations. He had no reason to be imagining rectangular blue things at the moment, did he?
Still, it floated there. As he rushed towards it, he was suddenly engulfed with fear. He was going to die.
Sherlock closed his eyes. He didn't want to see anymore. The last thing he saw was definitely a hallucination: Two doors swinging inwards. The blue box opening for him.
"Hey, seaweed brain!" Annebeth shouted. "Focus!"
Percy nodded tightly. "I am. I just... there was a noise. Like... I don't know what. I was probably imagining it."
Annebeth didn't hear him, and resumed creeping through the forest. This had to be one of the most intense capture-the-flag games he'd ever been in. When he volunteered for defense, he'd been hoping for a little less action. Everyone in the Ares cabin seemed to be sneaking up on him today, putting up a wicked fight. If it weren't for the river so conveniently near to the flag, he'd never of fended them all off.
The noise. He could hear it again, but closer. It was sort of wavering... sort of sci-fi. A green flickering was just noticeable at the edge of a bush. Was it a weapon? Did the Hephaestus cabin invent something new?
Percy turned slowly, keeping the flag in his line of sight. "I know you're there," he warned.
"Well, that's odd. My readings say you're not completely human..."
"What?" Percy was completely taken aback. That voice was at least 20 years old, and had a British accent! No way did it belong to a camper. He reached into his back pocket for a certain pen.
Artemis was thinking. His younger brothers seemed to be oblivious to what that meant. No playing, no asking him questions, and certainly no breathing while in the same room. Beckett was making a ridiculously distracting noise, something between a blender and a motorcycle.
Myles came strolling into the room. "Artemis clone--"
That did it. Artemis hated that name. "I've told you, clones are not capable of personality or movement. I am essentially the original, simply with--"
Artemis went quiet, simply because he was so shocked that his younger brother would shush him.
And that's when he heard it. An eerily familiar sound...
"Tardis!" Beckett grinned. "Tardis!"
Artemis felt like calling out to butler, when he remembered that his old friend was retired. Climbing downstairs would be tiresome and pointless for the man, and he had little speed and accuracy left, should the need to be defended arise.
Myles must have seen the half-second of hesitation in Artemis's eyes, because he was not moving towards the noise either. Beckett, however, charged out of the room, chanting tardis.
Myles and Artemis exchanged glances. Whatever had made the noise in the other room was doomed. Anything faced with three Fowls would be. Artemis regained composure and smiled faintly.
Suddenly there was banging in the other room, no doubt from Beckett's fists, and the two Fowl boys increased their pace. What greeted their eyes was impossible. Artemis's brain rejected it at first.
"Why is a nineteen-sixties police phone box in the middle of the living room?" Myles said aloud, not really expecting an answer.
Katniss gripped the sides of her pillow. She was dreaming about Prim again. She opened her eyes, but the kid was still there, burning. Then coin's eyes were wide and dead and staring, and burnt bread was flooding her, and fire was everywhere. Fire in her hair, fire on Prim, fire on the bread, and fire in Coin's eyes. Laughing fire.
She could just scream. Katniss did, making Buttercup poke her head around with a look that said what was that for?
Buttercup was right. She didn't need to have nightmares about the same things for years on end. Peeta was out with the children, buying candy. It was one of their birthdays. If it weren't for the fever in her forehead, Katniss would be there too. Buying candy instead of screaming.
The door rattled. There they were now. Katniss sat up in bed. Hopefully Peeta hadn't forgotten the herbs for her fever. Nobody spoke.
Well, that was odd. Katniss watched Buttercup dash out of the room. "Peeta?"
No answer. She didn't want to get out of bed, but the front door was locked. Only Peeta had the keys. There was no way in Panem that someone picked that lock.
"Peeta! Answer me!"
That does it, Katniss decided. She stood up, grabbed a vase full of primroses, and started downstairs. The front door was wide open. Why would Peeta pull something like this? It just wasn't like him. Perhaps he'd been pick-pocketed, but that was unlikely. It wasn't like the Hunger Games days, when nine out of ten children were starving to death.
Katniss looked around the room for signs of an unwanted visitor. The edge of a carpet upturned... A couch cushion on the floor...
And a fez. A fez was sticking up from behind the sofa.
"Get out of my house."
A man with no eyebrows and a whole lot of brown hair was attached to the fez. "You don't happen to know Jim the Fish, do you?"
"I said out."
He glanced around. "Ah, no, sorry. Completely wrong time perio--"
Katniss brandished the vase, making all of the flowers spill out. "I'm Katniss Everdeen, victor of the hunger games. I started a revolution. Shut up and get out of my house."
He looked at the vase. "Right, sorry. It's just that I've been looking for this woman, and we were suppose--"
Katniss grabbed him by the bow tie. What an idiot.
"Don't touch the bow tie!" was his actual protest.
Katniss shoved him out, feeling a fierce headache from the fever and a considerable amount of anger.
"Are you sure you don't know Jim the Fish?" The man said as soon as he was a bit farther away. Katniss slammed the door shut. Ugh.
She was about to go upstairs when a wave of nausea hit. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and it was all she could to to throw out her hands before Katniss was unconscious with her face pressed against the window.
Hugh always dreamed of visiting another world. The world where his family, his sister, even some of his friends were born in. They called it America. His sister Meggie said that one day an old man named Fenoglio would write the words to bring him there, and she would read them.
"Meggie, can you read me there today?" Hugh pleaded. "I'm twelve years old now!"
She laughed. "Ask the old man. Tell him to write everyone in the family there. I'll read it as soon as he's done, okay?"
"That'd be nice," said Doria. He was loosely holding Meg's hand. She looked at the ground. "You know Fenoglio. He'll either refuse or take months to write it."
Hugh was long gone, running down the street.
"Then we have time," Doria shrugged.
"To build a clock?"
"To..." He looked increasingly red. "Um..."
Meg realized what he was doing. "Yes," she said quickly.
He swallowed. "I didn't even say the question."
"It was obvious," she assured him. "You were getting ready to go down on one knee, anyway."
"That was a terrible proposal," he sighed. Meg laughed.
Hugh kept running. He was euphoric. It was time! The scribbler would write him some words, Meggie would user her silver tongue, and he'd see all the marvelous America things! Carriages that moved without horses, lights that flashed without fire... WHAM.
Hugh looked up. He'd run right into Dustfinger, the fire-dancer. He yelped and backed away. The fire-eater laughed. "You're still afraid of fire?"
Hugh didn't reply. Fire was dangerous. Men who played with fire were dangerous. A brown shadow emerged from behind Dustfinger. Farid. The boy that he'd only seen once before. Hugh still remembered. He was a better fire-dancer than Dustfinger.
"Where are you running off to?" Dustfinger said amicably. His visits were so rare. Hugh released his clenched teeth.
"T-to the scribbler."
Dustfinger's smile dampened. "Be careful."
Hugh nodded, running before the pair could ask him another question. Hugh couldn't put his finger on it, but they were so intimidating. Maybe it was the language of fire whispering to him. Danger.
Farid rolled his eyes. "Bird boy."
Dustfinger didn't say anything, merely scratching the marten on his shoulder behind one ear. The animal suddenly hissed and snapped. He withdrew his fingers easily. "Darn marten," he muttered. It scurried off of his back and down an alley.
"I'll get her," Farid decided. Off he went, like a gazelle. Suddenly, he froze.
A big blue crate-thing was appearing out of thin air before their very eyes.
Seth walked through the garden. It was one of the most boring parts of the preserve, but he was sixteen now. Going off on adventures with his cereal box would be dumb. It would just get him banned from visiting the satyrs, not to mention how many adventures he'd had for the past five years. Almost nothing in fablehaven could be as interesting as battling the demons of Zzyzx or stealing unicorn horns from centaurs.
It was kind of unfair that Kendra got to go wherever she wanted with Bracken. All they ever looked at was stuff made by the fairy queen anyway. White, sparkly stuff.
"Seth, do you need something to do?" Called his mom. Seth pretended not to hear her, ducking behind a bush. He'd rather do nothing than scrub dishes or do mom stuff.
All the fairies were flocking towards something. Seth crept out from behind the bush, following them. The fairies hardly found anything interesting other than their own reflections.
There was a big blue box sitting at the edge of the yard.
Seth stared at it. He blinked. He didn't blink. It didn't move. All the fairies were surrounding it like bees on honeycomb. Was it magical? He had to touch it. Seth stepped closer and closer, careful not to startle the fairies. They'd turned him into a walrus once before. Closer...
He stopped. POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX was written at the top. What the heck?
"Nice weather," Kate commented. Constance glared at her.
"Um..." Sticky was perspiring, trying to think of something worth mentioning at the meeting. Ever since Mr. Curtain and the whisperer were contained, the Mysterious Benedict Society had had no reason to have meetings, but they held them anyway. Four kids sitting cross-legged on the floor. Well, if you could call Kate a kid. She was sixteen now. Constance was almost seven, and the boys were both fifteen. It seemed so long ago that they first saw a ten man, or met Milligan, or learned morse code. School was incredibly dull, as Constance had announced last year when she started going. Reynie could just imagine, for a girl as intelligent as she was.
"I know!" Said Reynie suddenly. Everyone looked up excitedly. They knew this tone. It was the I've-Got-A-Brilliant-Idea tone, possibly their favorite tone.
"We'll do a project!"
Kate and Sticky both nodded simultaneously. "We could start a circus!" Kate said.
"We could study african monkeys!" Sticky said at the same time.
"Um, I was thinking more along the lines of--" began Reynie. Constance shushed them all. It was her psychic shush. The one everyone listened to, even Sticky's parents and No.2.
"There's... There's something in the attic," Constance whispered. She seemed terrified.
"I'll go up and check!" Said Kate before anyone could stop her. If you know Kate, then you'll know that she could run down the street and back before she'd finished a sentence. The boys glanced at Constance, who still looked nervous.
"Let's go up and see what it is," Reynie announced. It was probably just... well... something. It couldn't possibly be anything dangerous like a ten-man.
Contance nodded, and they all three scaled the stairs to the attic.
Kate was standing as still as a cat stalking a hare. "Ssh," she breathed.
Sticky gaped. A blue police box was standing in the middle of the attic, making strange noises.