A/N: Playing catch-up, yay! Prompt at the end of this one. :-)

Duty Calls

"Is there a Doctor here?!"

Watson was dreaming of an endless stretch of sand, two suns blazing and only one casting far-off shadows, when gunshots fired and gaps began to appear in the golden sky. The apertures grew wider, revealing pits as black as tar. The image broke quickly and he awoke with his heart racing, the sound of gunfire receding to fists pounding on the door.

His surroundings looked unfamiliar, but then he remembered he was not in Baker Street. He was not in London at all. It took a moment to place his location to the inn he and Holmes were occupying. Dusky light was falling through the small latticed windows. Across the room, Holmes was sitting up in his own bed, an irritated look thrown in the direction of the hallway.

Watson padded across the cold floorboards and opened the door. A heavily whiskered man stumbled inside the room. The flame of the candle he held in his hand stuttered dangerously before it righted itself. The orange glow washed over the man's face, highlighting the creases of worry on his brow.

"My sincerest apologies, sirs," he said breathlessly. "I heard there was a doctor staying in this room and I need assistance most urgently!"

Watson glanced at Holmes, their eyes locking and Watson felt it like a bolt sliding home in his chest. He was immediately taken back to a time when a ruse carried him away from his friend, felt the briefest grip of fear before he shook it off. The thought had occurred to Holmes also, Watson knew, as Holmes's gaze scanned their unexpected visitor before returning to Watson. He said nothing, but nothing needed to be said for Watson to know they were in no apparent danger.

Watson addressed the man.

"I am Doctor Watson. What is the problem, sir?"

"The problem is that my Julia is expecting! Oh, I fear it may be too late! Please come!" He was out the room before Watson could enquire further.

Watson quickly donned his coat and boots, ran after the stranger as fast as his legs would allow.

/-/-/

When he returned over an hour later, Holmes was still awake and waiting for him. The sun had risen now, the room warmer than when he had left it. His eyes drifted over Watson head to toe, a curve at the corner of his mouth.

"Do not say a word," Watson warned.

Holmes hummed thoughtfully. "And how long am I to hold this silence that you so graciously grant me during many cases?"

"Not long at all, it would seem."

Holmes smiled. "You must be tired, Watson. I suggest you rest. It is a few hours yet before we visit the Dentons."

"I think I shall."

"How is the patient?" Holmes asked.

"Well, and in the hands of the local veterinarian, Mr. Havenshaw." Watson shot him a glare. "But then you knew."

"Yes, I knew."

"You might have told me."

"I was not given the opportunity. You ran from this room as quickly as our visitor did." Holmes's smile grew wider. "Sheep or no, your patients cannot deny that you are nothing if not efficient in answering a call of duty."

End

Prompt 12: From Ennui Enigma – A sheep, a candle, and an unexpected hero.