The BBC has taken over my subconscious. Last night I dreamed about Doctor Who and Benedict Cumberbatch, and the night before I dreamed about Sherlock.
The Doctor Who dream was basically as if I were in an episode. I’m assuming it was an alternate universe, because I was with Nine, and I was the companion instead of Rose. Also, he ended up regenerating halfway through the dream, and it was under completely different circumstances than what actually happened.
We landed in modern-day New York City, where some kind of parade/festival was going on. One of the Slitheen was sneaking around, so Nine and I ended up breaking into this big fancy corporate building, because apparently there was something inside that could stop her. Then, for no apparent reason, the Slitheen grew to the size of Godzilla, and started knocking over buildings.
Luckily, the big corporate building we had broken into just so happened to contain a machine that could shrink her back down. Apparently the corporation had been using it for scrap though, so I had to run around the building and fetch parts while Nine fixed it.
At one point, people figured out that we were in the building, and we thought we were going to get in trouble, but instead we were welcomed like celebrities. We were confused for a moment, but then someone told us that the reason they were having a parade/festival was because today was “The Doctor Day.” Supposedly they had this celebration every year, and they were so excited because this was the first time that the Doctor had actually showed up.
Nine was so flattered by all the attention, that he started acting like a little fame whore and didn’t focus on what he was doing. Consequently, the machine blew up, and Nine, who got caught in the blast, was forced to regenerate into Ten. (Somehow, his clothes managed to regenerate with him.)
Ten was so paranoid about his machine blowing up again, that he did a complete 180 and started hiding from his admirers. (I feel like in canon, it would have been the other way around: Nine hiding and Ten being the attention whore. But whatever.) In fact, he was so busy hiding from everyone, that he wasn’t getting much progress on fixing the machine. So I had to run around looking for not only more parts, but Ten as well, and I kept finding him in dumb places like under desks or behind curtains.
The dream ended shortly after this, so I’m just gonna assume that the Slitheen killed us all.
The Sherlock dream made slightly more sense (emphasis on slightly). I was walking down this dirt path that looked exactly like the one behind my parents’ house, and I saw a large group of people clustered at the end of it. Curious, I decided to approach them.
It turned out to be a training session. There were a bunch of robots of Moriarty, which almost looked like the real thing, except for a few subtle giveaways, such as the fact that they had ventriloquist dummy mouths. There were several people, all dressed like Sherlock and wearing wigs like his hair, fighting the Moriarty robots. Mycroft was overseeing the whole operation, sitting on some bizarre cross between a wooden throne and a lawn chair.
Nobody told me this, but in dreams you just know things, so I was aware that this event was intended as something instructional for Sherlock. Evidently I was still a fangirl in the dream, because as soon as I perceived this I began to look around wildly for him. Sadly, he was nowhere in sight, so I figured that he was either hiding very effectively among all of his doppelgangers, or that there were some hidden cameras around. (Knowing Mycroft, the camera thing felt pretty plausible.)
Suddenly, one of the Moriartybots became aware of my presence, and began to walk toward me. I looked around for something to defend myself with, but I knew that whatever I picked up would be no good; every rock it stepped on was turned to dust. My dream perception then made me realize that only Mycroft had the power to call them off, so I looked over at him and yelled “Mycroft!”
Looking bored, Mycroft waved his hand, and the Moriartybot turned around and walked away. For a moment I was relieved, but then some of Mycroft’s employees stepped forward and told me that I had seen too much. This was a private training ground, and I could not be allowed to leave. Rather than threaten me with death, however, they told me that I had no choice but to work for Mycroft now. I wasn’t particularly thrilled by the idea, but they set up a lawn chair for me right beside him, and forced me to go sit down anyway.
“So, what exactly am I supposed to do?” I asked after a while.
“Fetch me coffee,” Mycroft replied lazily.
“Okay,” I said. “Where do I get coffee?”
“I don’t want coffee right now,” Mycroft said. So I spent the rest of the dream kind of watching the training session and kind of talking to Mycroft, but mostly just sitting there wondering why Anthea puts up with that shit.
As for the Benedict Cumberbatch dream… I don’t think I need to go into that one.