Clara (Penelope)'s POV
I was surprised at the fact Sherlock was so nice to me. What happened to Benedict Cumtherback's Sherlock, the one who insulted anyone with a lower IQ than him? Then again, I was Penelope Swan now, the alleged teenage brainiac. I answered some simple questions that the tester asked me, before he called John and Sherlock over. "Now, I would like you to tell Sherlock everything you can deduce about him. He's one of the hardest people to deduce from, so don't worry if you don't know anything." I was astonished at this task. Hard? I knew everything about him. "I'll try my best." I said in a slightly mocking tone," now, should I just go through the simple stuff, or do you want to be surprised?" Sherlock looked humored by this, while John looked like he felt slightly awkward in the situation. Ah well, might as well scare them a bit.
"Right, well you're right handed and play the violin, taught by a Rufus Stone at the age of 14, that summer holidays that you stayed with Aunt Anna and Uncle Sherrinford Holmes. Yes, you solved a lot of cases there. Helped by Matthew 'Matty' Arant, a pickpocket whom you met when you first arrived; Amyus Crowe, your tutor and his daughter Virginia, whom I believe was your first lover, possibly only." At this point everyone around me looked shocked at this information. Of course it wouldn't have been mentioned, John's not supposed to think Sherlock has a heart at this point. "Yes, despite this fact lots of people have been interested in you. Irene Adler, for example. Honestly, how could you have not guessed the password to her phone immidiately? I am Sherlocked? I would have guessed that. By, the way John, don't trust Mycroft. When he says 'It would take Sherlock to fool me', it's probably the case. Should I stop there?" Everyone shouted different answers at once, so I continued for about 5 minutes more before stopping.
I took one look at each person to see surprising expressions; the officer testing me was obviously impressed; John was enjoying all the secrets I'd revealed about Sherlock; Sherlock himself was utterly terrified, probably wondering what I'd say next. Finally, John asked, "Why are you wearing a fez?" I'd completely forgot my choice of clothing, but I've always worn a fez. I had to reply the only way I knew how. "Fez' are cool." I announced, a grin plastered on my face. They probably thought I was mad now. There was another stunned silence, before the examiner said, "Well, I think your mental abilities are fine, so I'm just going to update the files." I knew that this would be Sherlock's file as well as my own, from what I had said about his past. I turned to the other two and said, "Well, I'm going to update my geek box. If you want to come with, that's fine."
Sherlock silently nodded, still in shock, while John gave an appologetic look. We walked down the corridors in a little group, but without much talking. John and Sherlock were muttering to each other, however, it's obvious that they didn't want me to listen, so I thought to myself. Something was different. I could feel and hear it, it was like I was as clever as Sherlock Holmes and could deduce just about everything. If George and Mari could see me now...
That's when I stopped smiling. What was going to happen? Would I be able to get home? I loved being in a universe where Sherlock was reality, but I'm guessing there was no BBC, Doctor Who or Steven Moffat here. That's why I had to get back to my box. At least there, I've got my geeky DVDs. Okay, that sounded a bit nerdy and hard-hearted. "Penelope, are you okay? You've gone pale." John looked concerned, so I must have looked terrible. I weakly smiled, "I'm fine." The two of them looked at me suspiciously for a moment, before leaving it and continuing to walk. They followed me to the grey room I'd originally found myself in and I pulled out the red and blue box.I'd had it for ages, from back when I'd had to shove a load of stuff in boxes, because I had too much stuff. On the front was the shiny sharpie writing, saying 'My Geek Box'.
I opened it to find all my stuff was there and still intact. I breathed a sigh of relief and shoved my little notebook inside, slamming the lid shut. "So, when's my turn?" I turned round to see Sherlock observing thee room. Of course, that's probably what he's used to doing with every place. "What on Gallifrey do you mean?" I asked, utterly confused.
"Well, since you figured all that information out about me, I figured that maybe I should return the favour." I knew what he was doing; he wanted to know how I knew all of that, but I wasn't going to just say 'Oh, I come from an alternate universe, where you and John are fictional'. However much he may deserve it, saying that would just cause more problems. So instead I just said, "When you feel like it." Sherlock was surprised at this reply; apparently no-one usually talks like this. Then again, since when was I normal? I ignored any other questioning looks, until Lestrade suddenly came in. Everyone looked up expectantly. "We've had a break-in through the files. It seems your cover's been blown, Miss Swan." The colour instantly left my face. I've seen what people like Moriarty can do around here and to be perfectly honest, I wouldn't be thrilled if I was blackmailed, kidnapped or almost killed. "How do you know?" I asked, a tremour in my voice.
He sighed and showed me a picture on his phone. It was a grafittied wall that had the words 'Penelope Guinevere Swan' spray painted in tardis blue with a fez red background. I realised that this 'villain' knew more than they were letting on, due to the colours, as did Sherlock. John and Greg, on the other hand, were completely oblivious to this tell-tale sign. "So? It's just a name. There could be other people with that name." I'm sorry, I just had to huff at John's annoyance. No-one could have the same name as me, because Penelope wasn't my legal name. Or was it? I'm not sure about my identity here.
"No-one has this name, because legally 'Penelope Swan' doesn't exist. When we found that Penelope didn't share a name with anyone, it was just easier to delete all the records. No offense, Sherlock, but Scotland Yard decided that we couldn't trust Mycroft and his colleagues with this kind of information." He obviously didn't care that someone thought his brother was untrustworthy and was studying the picture carefully. "But, Lestrade this person knows more than they're letting on. As, you can see in the picture the col-"
"The colour scheme coordinates with her box, showing that not only do they know her favourite colours, but probably other information. Am I right?" I wordlessly nodded at his interruption. John just looked at me and said, "You're not going to start insulting me as well, are you?" I laughed and shook my head. I wasn't Sherlock, I was just as clever. Detective Inspector Lestrade started talking again. "So Sherlock, from what I've heard you're bored again. In that case, he about you and John take this case with Miss Swan?" He suddenly lit up at the thought of a case and got into action. "John, Penelope come. We need to start at Baker Street, to find out the main information. " I grabbed my fez and nerd handbag, before running after the two and shouting, "I'm not a dog you know! You don't have to bark commandments at me." From the end of the hall, I heard Sherlock reply.
"I know!" I grinned to myself at the thought of solving crimes with Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. It was everything I'd ever dreamed of! However, I had a feeling the situation was about to get much darker...