Disclaimer: I own nothing. Although me and my mate do own this story as we wrote it on a day when we both felt ill and particularly mad.

This is all dialogue story my first so please review

On a cool evening on the Dartmouth moors Holmes and Watson were having a conversation.

"... But I'm not being avidly pessimistic, but dreams can be misleading"

"...But you know what I mean?"

"To a T, my dear Watson."

" Of course my dear Sherlock, Does that mean you've solved the case?"

"To true dearest Watson, but the search can only progress into the further reaches of the land"

"Ah but in progress there can also be misconception"

"Hmmm, true." **strokes moustache**

" Holmes when you look up at the night sky what do you observe?"

"Stars, the space between them and the inevitable unknown that is out there. Oh and a definite feeling of complete and whole humbleness"

"I observe something very different"

"Which is my dear Watson?"

"Thats someones stole our bloody tent!"

"That too, definitely that. and now were going to get rained on!"

"Which will automatically lead to a cold and us snuggling up in bed, fuelling fan-fictions for years to come."

"Lets just hope the hound doesn't find us"

"It will only turn us into werewolves, then we will have to travel to Hogwarts and run in the forbidden forest every full moon."

"Hmm As long as I get to have my wicked way with Ron Weasley"

"I know, I will pinch Draco Malfoy ad we can have hot sex while Snape and Dumbledore film it for later use. I've also concluded one last thing."

"I like the sound of that Watson, and what is this one last thing, as I presume werewolves aren't very good at playing Quiditch"

"I Conclude we are both barking mad."

"Indeed Watson, indeed."

And at that moment, the rain started to fall and a howl was heard in the distance.