"Watson! Watson! Are you alright?" A clipped British accent broke through the darkness.
Tony wished that who ever the hell Watson was, that he'd sound off soon. Because if he didn't, Tony was gonna kick Watson's sorry ass into line.
He opened his eyes and found himself looking up at the sky.
He groaned.
"Oh for crying out - where am I now?!" he murmured and rolled up to his feet, cautiously feeling for bruises or broken bones.
As he did, he realised he was no longer in the Mediterranean heat of African climes. Or was that sub-African climes?
Whatever.
Wherever he was this time, it was cold and wet. The latter being added to be the heavy fog that was descending. Still, thought Tony, at least my trusty Ulster will keep this weather out -
Hang on!
Again?
Black and white again.
A suit again.
Someone yelling a strange name in his direction again.
Tony took a moment to take in his outfit.
"Oh great," he sighed, "I always wanted to wear tweeds. With leather walking boots. And puttees." And, he added silently, a coat that if I could actually see colour? Well, it would make me look like a colour-blind chameleon. On acid. "This things got more checks than Gibbs has got grey hairs!" he moaned.
"Watson! Stop tarrying there, man! We have a supernatural beast to track down and the insidious criminal that set him upon the moor!" a voice shouted behind him.
Tony winced and turned round.
McGee, complete with matching tweed suit, stout walking boots and deerstalker hat, was looking at him with annoyance.
"Well? Come on, Watson! The light is dying - and so may Sir Henry!!" McGee told him as he turned on his heel and marched off across the desolate landscape.
"Sure, McGeek." Tony sighed and followed after him, pausing to pick up the walking stick which had laid next to him, "Hey, McGee! Wait up!"
McGee strode on.
"Hey! I'm the senior field agent here - you should be following in my wake!" Tony broke into an undignified trot, swerving to avoid wild heather and stones strewn across the ground.
Eventually he caught up with McGee, who nodded at Tony with a smile playing across his lips.
"Really, Watson, you track about as quietly as a herd of elephant. " McGee told Tony in hushed tones.
"Why are we whispering?" Tony asked, a harassed tone in his voice.
McGee stopped dead just as they reached what turned out to be the crest of a small hill. "Because, Watson, we don't want to alert Stapleton to our presence."
"Who the hell is Stapleton?" Tony asked.
"Watson, if you are seeking to vex me..." McGee hushed Tony with an imperious hand.
"What?!"
"Shhhh!"
Both men were silent, McGee's eyes closing to slits.
Tony leaned on one of the spindly trees that grew in small huddled groups across the moor.
He started as he heard the lonely and haunting howl of a dog in the not-too-far-away distance.
"What the?!!" He cried.
But the only answer he got was McGee setting off in the direction of the sound. Tony followed, knowing that if he lost the younger man in the thick fog, he would have little chance of locating him till the weather cleared.
McGee slowed to a walk and then stopped by a large leaning edifice of stone. Tony caught up with him, looking over McGee's shoulder at the path below.
A man was running, though his pace was hampered by the reason of his almost constant looking over his shoulder.
Tony followed the man's gaze to see an enormous dog bounding ever closer to his quarry.
"Watson! Quickly man!"
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tony asked, but to thin air.
McGee half ran, half fell down the steep hill towards the man, calling, "Watson! Your revolver!"
"What revolver?" Tony shouted back, as he followed his colleague down the incline.
McGee was on the path and running after the man and animal they had observed, his stride determined.
Tony was not far behind him when he suddenly lost sight of both men.
A second later he heard a shot and yelp.
"Oh Jeez! McGee!!!!" Tony took off in the direction of the sound.
Rounding an enormous outcrop of stone which Tony negotiated his way round, he saw a scene that made his blood run cold.
The dog, which had looked huge from a distance, was even larger at close quarters. The animal lay motionless on it's side, it's dark coat glowing gently in the gloom of the fog and the fading light. A single shot between it's eyes obviously the killshot.
And McGee was bent over a prostrate figure on the path.
Tony rushed to see what had occurred, when McGee turned and gave him a wry smile.
"I rather think Sir Henry needs your medical assistance, Watson." He told Tony, and stood up.
Leaving a white faced and clearly shocked Jimmy Palmer on the path, clutching at his right arm in agony.
"Doctor!" he cried, "That dog! Is it? I mean, could it be the Hound?"
Tony took a step forward and saw that Jimmy's upper right arm was covered with blood.
"It bit you?"
"I heard it coming, but I was powerless to stop it!" Jimmy told him.
"Watson, we cannot stop here, and neither can Sir Henry," McGee told him,
"Just bandage his arm and let us return to the Stapleton residence. Our work is not finished!"
Tony helped Jimmy to his feet and rummaged in his suit pockets for a suitable bandage.
To his surprise he found a pristine handkerchief.
"What are the odds?" he murmured and tied it roughly to the younger man's arm.
"Thank you, Doctor Watson," Jimmy told him, wincing at the rough and ready treatment he was receiving.
"Yeah. Whatever. Er, you might want to get a tetanus shot for that." Tony told him, then slapped Jimmy hard on the back.
"Hey, McGee?" No answer from the thick curtain of fog that surrounded him. "McGee?" Tony shouted a bit louder.
Still nothing.
Tony turned back to Jimmy, but now he had disappeared.
Tony was alone.
"Oh this is not happening to me!" he muttered under his breath.
"Hey! Holmes!" Tony sighed and dropped his head on his chest.
"Right," he told himself, "this is about right."
And he stepped out, back onto the path he had come in on.
Only to find the path was no longer there and he was falling into nothing.
Tony did the only thing he could do, thankful Kate wasn't there to witness it.
He screamed. Like a girl.