(John’s POV: )

 Later, in the small Snug next to the bar, Greg was sitting at a table looking through paperwork –previous invoices from Undershaw – while Gary the manager and Billy the chef sat at the other side of the table looking at him anxiously. Alice stood behind them, watching Greg read the papers analytically. Sherlock ostentatiously tapped the drips off a spoon into a cup and carried it over to me, offering it to me.

 “What’s this?” I asked, looking away from Greg.

 “Coffee. I made coffee.” He said, almost proudly. Alice looked up sceptically.

 “You never make coffee.” I said almost immediately.

 “I just did. Don’t you want it?” Sherlock asked, holding it a bit closer and Alice raised an eyebrow.

 “You don’t have to keep apologising.” I said calmly. He looked away with a hurt expression on his face. I hated that face more than ‘The Face’. I relented and took the cup and saucer. “Thanks.” I said quietly. Sherlock smiled happily- proudly and Alice hid a smile. I took a mouthful and tried not to, but grimaced. “Mm. I don’t take sugar...” I said softly. The hurt expression came back onto Sherlock’s face as he looked away again. He was like a puppy whose owner had just told him off for chewing his slippers. I looked at his face and felt that I had no choice but to take another drink, which I did. Alice smiled openly until Greg spoke again.

 “These records go back nearly two months.” Greg said somewhat suddenly. Grimacing at the taste, I put the cup back into the saucer and looked at Sherlock.

 “That’s nice. That’s good.” I replied. I turned away to put the drink down as Greg continued interrogating Gary and Billy. Alice looked down at them like she was angry, but she didn’t seem angry. She did that a lot. I could almost never tell what she was feeling.

 “Is that when you had the idea, after the TV show went out?” Greg asked.

 “It’s me. It was me.” Billy blurted. He turned to his partner. “I’m sorry, Gary – I couldn’t help it. I had a bacon sandwich at Carol’s wedding and one thing just led to another...” Sherlock grinned behind him and Alice broke out into a small smile as well. I didn’t get the joke. Greg was equally disbelieving.

 “Nice try.” Greg said dryly.

 “Look, we were just trying to give things a bit of a boost, you know? A great big dog run wild up on the moor – it was heaven-sent. It was like us having our own Loch Ness Monster.” Gary explained.

 “Where do you keep it?” Alice asked, taking Greg’s question. She did that a lot too. It annoyed me but she wouldn’t stop.

“There’s an old mineshaft. It’s not too far. It was all right there.” Gary admitted.

 “‘Was’?” Sherlock asked.

 “We couldn’t control the bl**dy thing. It was vicious.” Gary sighed. He sighed again. “And then, a month ago, Billy took him to the vet and, er... you know.”

 “It’s dead?” I asked.

“Put down.” Gary corrected.

“Yeah. No choice. So it’s over.” Billy added.

“It was just a joke, you know?” Gary continued. Alice looked impatient.

“Yeah, hilarious.” Greg remarked sarcastically. He stood up and looked down at them angrily. “You’ve nearly driven a man out of his mind.” He walked out of the room. I followed him. Sherlock stayed back for a moment with Alice, but then followed. I followed Greg across the bar and out of the pub.

“You know he’s actually pleased you’re here?” I asked. Greg threw me a disbelieving look. “Secretly pleased.” I added.

“Is he? That’s nice. I suppose he likes having all the same faces back together. Appeals to his... his...” He stopped and searched for the right word. I provided what I thought was an appropriate suggestion:

“...Asperger’s?” Sherlock came out of the pub and glowered at me, probably having heard the last word. Alice gave me a thumbs-up while smiling madly.

“So, you believe him about having the dog destroyed?” Greg asked Sherlock.

“No reason not to.” Alice said, hands shoved in her pockets and leaning on Sherlock a little bit.

“Well, hopefully there’s no harm done. Not quite sure what I’d charge him with anyway. I’ll have a word with the local Force.” Greg shrugged. He nodded to Sherlock and me, and then tipped a non-existent hat to Alice. She smiled back at him. He beamed. I thought it a bit cruel giving him false hope. “Right, that’s that, then. Catch you later.” He smiled. “I’m enjoying this! It’s nice to get London out of your lungs!” I watched him walk away, and then turned to Sherlock.

“So that was their dog that people saw out on the moor?” I asked.

“Looks like it.” Sherlock answered. Alice nodded.

“But that wasn’t what you saw. That wasn’t just an ordinary dog.” I added.

“No.” His gaze became distant. “It was immense, had burning red eyes and it was glowing, John. Its whole body was glowing.” Alice cringed, and her hand moved ever so slightly to her stomach. Sherlock shuddered, shaking off the memory, then turned and walked towards the car park. “I’ve got a theory but I need to get back into Baskerville to test it.”

“How? Can’t pull off the ID trick again.” I asked.

“Might not have to.” Sherlock said cryptically. He had got his phone out and hit a speed dial and now he lifted the phone to his ear, Alice smiling.

“Hello, brother dear. How are you?” He greeted insincerely.

BASKERVILLE

(Alice’s POV: )

We approached Baskerville again in the Land Rover, John having finally submitted and sitting in the back. An armed security man came over to Sherlock’s side as the dog handler and sniffer dog also approached.

“Afternoon, sir. If you could turn the engine off.” The guard greeted. Sherlock handed over his ID pass and switched the car off. “Thank you.” He said politely. As he went over the gate room to swipe the card, and as other soldiers checked the vehicle over from the outside, Sherlock spoke quietly to us.

“Alice and I need to see Major Barrymore as soon as we get inside.” He said.

“Right.” John confirmed.

“Which means you’ll have to start the search for the hound.” Sherlock continued.

“Okay.” John replied, undeterred.

“In the labs; Stapleton’s first.” I finished. Sherlock gave me a look, not angry, not soft, just, glanced at me. The guard brought the ID card back and handed it over.

“Could be dangerous.” Sherlock added. John smiled momentarily, but I didn’t get it. The gate slid open and Sherlock started the car and drove onto the base.

(LATER, MAJOR BARRYMORE’S OFFICE, ALICE’S POV STILL: )

The major was talking snarkily to Sherlock, but avoiding my gaze.

“Oh, you know I’d love to. I’d love to give you unlimited access to this place. Why not?” He said sarcastically.

“It’s a simple enough request, Major.” I retorted. He looked at me in slight surprise.

“I’ve never heard of anything so bizarre.” Barrymore corrected.

“You’re to give me twenty-four hours. It’s what I’ve- we’ve...” Sherlock paused momentarily. “...negotiated.”

“Not a second more. I may have to comply with this order but I don’t have to like it.” The Major said sternly. He swung around to his computer on the desk behind him as Sherlock and I started to leave the office. “I don’t know what you expect to find here anyway.”

“Perhaps the truth.” Sherlock said, looking round.

"About what? Oh, I see. The big coat should have told me.” Barrymore replied, still aggravated and looking round again. Sherlock frowned and I looked around his office nonchalantly. “You’re one of the conspiracy lot, aren’t you?” He grinned as Sherlock rolled his eyes. I smirked. “Well, then, go ahead, seek them out: the monsters, the death rays, the aliens.”

“Have you got any of those?” I asked nonchalantly. Now it was Barrymore’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Oh, just wondering.” Sherlock said in the same tone as I had.

“A couple. Crash landed here in the sixties. We call them Abbott and Costello.” Barrymore snapped, leaning forward secretively. He straightened up and turned back to his computer. “Good luck, Mr. Holmes, Captain White.” I shot him a glare as I walked behind Sherlock.

(HENRY’S HOUSE, HENRY’S POV: )

I was in the sitting room holding one of my framed photographs of myself when I was five years old standing in between my parents. Memories began coming back like a flood. As I clutched the photograph I gazed into the distance, just remembering… but gradually exhaustion began to take over the images and I felt my eyelids begin to droop. Eventually my eyes closed completely – and immediately the red glowing eyes of the hound flashed in his mind. As I gasped in horror, I opened my eyes again, and then wailed in anguish.

“Oh, g*d!” I screamed. Sobbing, I clutched at my head and then buried my face in my hands and wept in despair.

(BASKERVILLE: )

(ALICE’S POV: )

We watched John come through the lift doors into the first floor lab. Sherlock was giddy, and it was ticking me off. I didn’t want to do this to John: It was cruel. The only reason I wasn’t down there with him, was because Sherlock took pity on me cos of my suspected ulcer… Which I still hadn’t told anyone about.

As he walked forward he saw that there were only two scientists in the room and even they were leaving through a side door… Right on cue. The second scientist turned off the main overhead lights as he went, which left the room lit far more dimly by a few arc lights on stands, which were dotted around, and the screens of some computers. John looked around a little anxiously as he realized how spooky and quiet it was, and then walked towards the doors at the far end of the lab. I looked to Sherlock, scanning his pale face, made even paler by the monitors.

“I don’t like this, Sherlock.” I said quietly as John took out his security pass and swiped it through the reader.  Sherlock quickly glanced at me, and then turned back to the monitors.

“Why?” He asked innocently. John pulled the door open and went inside, having apparently ignored the handwritten notice on the outside which read:

“KEEP OUT

                UNLESS YOU WANT

                A COLD!”

“Because you are bl**dy using your only- no, best friend as a lab rat! And he isn’t only your friend… I happen to be fond of him!” I said, a bit louder than necessary. He looked at me like a puppy, and I knew that he realized that what he was doing was wrong. Or possibly it was something else, but I couldn’t tell.

John walked through the decontamination zone to the door at the far end and tapped a finger on the glass window in the door. When nobody replied he pushed the door open and went into a room, which had a glass-walled section on the left hand side. There was a glass cage inside the sealed section but there didn’t appear to be anything inside. In front of him was a desk with equipment, folders, a phone and various other things on it, and above the desk were small plastic tubes coming out of the wall and dials that indicated that these tubes dispensed various gases. John opened the door of a small cupboard set into the desk but found nothing of interest and so continued looking around. On the right hand side of the room were large metal pipes which presumably also carried gases. One of them was leaking slightly.

                John peered around a little longer and then came out of the room and went back through the decontamination zone and into the lab. Just to his right was a large arc light on a stand that John would soon dislike. As John turned to his right to close the door behind him, I fired up the lights he just saw, and the nine bright bulbs shone straight into his eyes. He squinched his eyes shut and turned his head away, grimacing at the pain.

“Oh, no! Je***! Ow!” He cried. Opening his eyes a little, he squinted and tried to see into the room. Sherlock turned on all the other lights in the room and John’s vision was, as planned, blanked out by the arc lights. I set on a loud insistent alarm. John groaned and covered his ears, completely overwhelmed by the bright light, lack of vision and the noise. Grimacing, he tried to make his way across the lab to the lift, holding his hand up in front of his eyes. Finally reaching the other end of the lab, he pulled out the ID card and swiped it through the reader. It whined and told him ‘ACCESS DENIED’. He stared in disbelief and swiped the card again but it whined and gave him the same message again. Holding one hand to an ear as the alarm continued to blare, he tried once more.

“Come on.” He groaned. The same whine and message repeated. John glared at it in exasperation – and at that moment, Sherlock turned everything off. The room was now under emergency lighting only, which was dark red and barely illuminated the area. “What the f...?” He trailed off under his breath. He scrabbled in his pocket for his flashlight and switched it on, although its beam wasn’t very helpful against the continued after-image of the arc lights which would be still affecting his retinas. “Hello?” He called. He screwed his eyes shut for a moment, most likely in an attempt to clear the after-images. As he opened his eyes again, a shadow seemed to flicker across the room some distance away. John blinked and looked around the room; the after-images would still be frustrating his ability to see anything clearly. He lowered his head into his hand and rubbed his eyes for a few seconds, then raised his head again, realising how ominously quiet it was is in the lab. But that didn’t last long for him, as Sherlock made something rattle to his right.

                He walked forward cautiously, looking a little anxiously at the row of large cages which he now realized were all covered with sheeting that obscured their contents. Sherlock rattled again. John walked slowly to the first of the cages, turning once to check behind him, then grabbed hold of the sheeting and pulled it back, showing that the first cage was empty. Pulling the sheet back down again, he walked to the next cage as I made something clink near the lift doors. He swung around to look and shone his torch in that direction but could see nothing. He turned again and grabbed the sheet over the second cage, tossing that back. Again the cage was empty, and the door was open. He moved on to the third cage and threw back the sheet. A monkey inside hurled itself at him, screaming as it grabbed at the bars. John dropped the sheet and stumbled back several paces, breathing heavily. He walked to the final cage and looked at it, and then slowly his gaze was pulled down to the bottom of the bars where the sheeting had been pushed back a little. The door of the cage was slightly ajar and the bottom of it had been bent back by something -that John thought- must be incredibly strong. As John stared at the bent bars in disbelief, Sherlock played a low savage growl from his mobile into the speaker. John spun around, his eyes going wide as he shone his flashlight around but he could see nothing. He saw the nearby door to the Cold Lab and walked briskly over to it, taking out his ID card and swiping it. The reader whined –yet again- its ‘ACCESS DENIED’ alert.

“No, come on, come on.” John urged. He swiped the card again. Again it refused to open the door. He stared in anguish, and then pulled his mobile out of his pocket while shining his light around the room. He hit the speed dial and held the phone to his ear as Sherlock’s mobile began to ring up where we were.

“No, you... Don’t be ridiculous, pick up.” John complained under his breath. Eventually he gave up and switched the mobile off again. “Oh, da**it!” He cursed in a whisper. Putting the phone back in his pocket, he looked across the room determinedly. “Right.” He said softly, encouraging himself. Trying to shine his torch in all directions at once and making his way cautiously around all the workstations and islands, he hurried as quickly as he could towards the side door, through which the scientists left earlier. As he went, Sherlock played the distinctive sound of claws on floor. “Oh sh...” He began under his breath. Ducking low, he hurried to the door and took out his card again. “Okay...” He whispered. As he reached towards the card reader, Sherlock made the claws trot across the floor to his right, and then snarled. John turned and stared, breathing heavily, as Sherlock provided even more sounds: claws on the floor tiles, equipment being pushed aside, and then a low ominous growl. John shoved the card back into his pocket and then clapped his hand over his mouth to dampen his own panicked breathing as the growl rumbled on. As the growl finally fell silent, John made a break for it and raced across the room, running towards the cages and pulling open the door of one of the empty ones before scrambling inside, slamming the door shut and bolting it and then reaching through the bars and pulling the sheet down over the cage. Sherlock grinned eagerly as he made it snarl as John retreated from the door and squatted down against the side bars, wrapping his hand around his mouth again and trying not to sob as the mobile growled again.

                Finally, Sherlock deemed that John had enough, and called the doctor’s mobile. As it rang, he scrambled in his pocket to retrieve it. He answered it on the second ring and held it up towards his mouth. He kept his voice as soft as he possibly could but even at such a low volume his terror was evident.

“It’s here. It’s in here with me.” He said under his breath, horror-stricken.

“Where are you?” Sherlock asked, perfectly acting like he wasn’t watching him for the last ten minutes.

“Get me out, Sherlock. You have got to get me out. The big lab: the first lab that we saw.” John almost begged, still under his breath. He breathed heavily. Sherlock had me make a growl. John whined loudly in terror and clapped his hand over his mouth again.

“John? John?” Sherlock asked urgently.

“Now, Sherlock. Please.” John begged, lowering his hand and keeping his voice no more than a whisper.

“All right, I’ll find you. Keep talking.” Sherlock replied, getting out of his chair and pulling his coat on, making it flare in my face.

“I can’t. It’ll hear me.” John argued softly. I got up and put my coat on as Sherlock put his scarf on.

“Keep talking. What are you seeing?” Sherlock encouraged. Throughout the conversation John had been peering through the small gap in the sheeting but the room was so dimly lit that he hadn’t been able to see anything. “John?” Sherlock asked, pointing to me. I sighed and played the snarl.

“Yes, I’m here.” John confirmed, still in a whisper.

“What can you see?” Sherlock asked insistently, putting a hand on the doorknob to the cabin. Getting onto his knees, John crawled closer to the gap in the sheeting, trying to keep his terrified breathing under control.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, but I can hear it.” Sherlock cued a growl. “Did you hear that?” John asked, terrified.

“Stay calm, stay calm. Can you see it?” Sherlock demanded. John peered into the gloom. “Can you see it?” He repeated.

“No. I can...” John trailed off, then slowly straightened up, retreated backwards and sat back against the side bars as his face filled with absolute horror. “I can see it.” He confirmed. He stared ahead of himself, his eyes full of dread as a shadow began to move on the other side of the sheeting. I looked behind me, finding Sherlock no longer in the cabin. I cursed and ran out of the booth, heading down to the lab. “It’s here.” John said flatly. Sherlock –which would be the hound to John, - moved closer as he played a growl once more. I reached the entrance to the lab and silently came in the now-open door. “It’s here.” John repeated, in the same flat tone. Sherlock moved closer... and then tugged the sheeting upwards as I flicked the lights back on in the lab.  Sherlock looked anxiously down at the doctor as he pulled the door open and went inside. 

“Are you all right?” Sherlock asked worriedly. John’s eyes widened in utter bewilderment as Sherlock bent down to him and put a hand onto his shoulder. I stood behind Sherlock, squinting to adjust my eyes. “John...” Sherlock trailed.

“Je*** chr*** ...” He exclaimed, a bit loudly. He grabbed the bars and pulled himself to his feet, hurrying out of the cage and stuffing his phone away as he turned back to his friend. “It was the hound, Sherlock. It was here. I swear it, Alice. It must...” He rambled, still breathless and panic-stricken. He looked around the lab which – now fully illuminated – showed him that there was nowhere a large monster could be hiding. “It must...” His voice became high-pitched. “Did... did... did you see it? You must have!” Sherlock held out a placatory hand towards him, and I gave him a sympathetic look from behind the detective.

“It’s all right. It’s okay now.” Sherlock –in his special way- comforted.

“NO IT’S NOT! IT’S NOT OKAY! I saw it. I was wrong!” John shouted, high-pitched, frantic and hysterical. I was a bit blown away at the small man’s lungs. Sherlock shrugged as John breathed heavily.

“Well, let’s not jump to conclusions.” Sherlock suggested calmly.

“What?” John hissed.

“What did you see?” Sherlock asked.

“I told you: I saw the hound.” John said, annoyed.

“Huge; red eyes?” I asked.

“Yes.” John confirmed, looking at me for the first time.

“Glowing?” Sherlock continued. I turned to look at him, confused.

“Yeah.”

“No.” Sherlock corrected.

“What?” John asked, beginning  to catch his breath now.

“I made up the bit about glowing. You saw what you expected to see because I told you. You have been drugged. We have all been drugged.” Sherlock revealed.

“Drugged?” John and I asked simultaneously.

“Can you walk?” Sherlock checked, looking down at John’s legs. I followed Sherlock's glance, noticing slight shaking.

“’Course I can walk.” John confirmed, his voice shaky.

“Come on, then. It’s time to lay this ghost.” Sherlock encouraged. He turned and headed for the door. Still trying to catch his breath, John looked around the lab again, then stumbles after Sherlock with me following last in the detective’s wake.

Okay, I'm dog tired and I have babysitting for the last day this Monday, so I'm getting a jump-start on my updating. Enjoy, vote, and comment, fun peoples! =)