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“Hmm…”
“Sher?” John asks hesitantly.
“Hmmmm…”
“Sherlock?” John presses again.
“Hmmmmm…”
“Yeah, no, could you actually response please. It’s getting scary now.” John pleads.
Sherlock blinks and takes his eyes away from the small creature in his hands, ignoring its squirming and wriggling, to focus on John instead. “Yes, I suppose this is acceptable.” He says at last, looking back to the creature with what seems to be curiosity.
“Right, um, good.” John clears his throat and then remembers something. “Oh, and Mr Banks had said that he’ll be back by six tonight to pick her up, ok?”
Sherlock doesn’t answer and John moves to the door, knowing he has to go to work but rather hesitant seeing as how Sherlock is and what he usually does to body parts pinched from the morgue at Scotland Yard. This isn’t a body part though, it’s a living thing. “For god’s sake, John! Go! I’m not preforming harmful experiments on a dog. I have some morals, you know.” Sherlock snaps at him and John shakes his head before walking away, leaving Sherlock and the three-month-old beagle puppy alone together. It would be asking for it if he wondered what could possibly go wrong…
5:40 pm…
John feels anxiety run through him and goes to open the door to his flat when he stills at the sounds coming from inside.
“No, no, no, no, no.” Sherlock declares dramatically and for a second John fears he’s being attacked until…
Woof!
“No!”
Bark!
“Don’t you talk back to me. I…”
Woof! Woof! Woof!
“And there you go again, mouthing off back at me.” Sherlock sighs and John slowly inches the door open, peering inside then instantly smiling in awe at what he sees. Sherlock is lying face down on the floor as he stares at the puppy who is crouched with her butt in the air, tail wagging and one of her big, floppy ears flipped over. “You done?” He asks her with a raised eyebrow, not realising John is watching him.
The puppy growls and rubs her head against the carpet. Sherlock breaks out into a soft smile which makes him seem so human despite him claiming emotions are pointless restraints through life. He draws out a deerstalker hat out of nowhere and dangles it in front of the puppy’s face. She yips and makes a grab for it. He doesn’t let go and she growls playfully as she pulls on the other end, a game of tug-a-war ensuing. The puppy is lifted onto its hind legs as she refuses to let go and he sighs before releasing his end. “Have it then. I have no use of it.” He then picks up the notepad next to him and writes in it, speaking out loud, “Experiment conclusion: yes, the dog hates that stupid hat as much as I do…mental note, look into dogs for hat disposal for future hat attacks.” John smirks wider, shaking his head as he snickers. Sherlock instantly spots him and frowns. “Why are you here, John?” He looks him over with his powers of deduction. “You didn’t forget anything.”
“It’s nearly six, Sher.” John informs, nodding at the clock on the mantelpiece and Sherlock looks at it, surprise registering in his eyes. “Didn’t you notice?”
“Must have slipped my mind…” He mutters and is then drawn back to the puppy who pounces on the hat with a growl, picking it up to shake it wildly in its mouth. Sherlock smiles again and John shakes his head in amusement, closing the door at last as he fully enters 221B. Sherlock stands up and scoops the puppy up who growls at the hat as it slips from her mouth and falls to the floor. She looks up at Sherlock as he carries her with one arm into the kitchen after John. John opens the fridge only to pause when he sees something…unusual. He thought he’d never find anything strange after seeing severed limbs on a weekly basis taking up space in their fridge, but this has him pausing for a minute or two. He draws out the milk and turns to Sherlock who is now sitting at the table with the puppy on the table. He runs his fingers along the edge as the puppy darts at them, trying to catch them. He’s smiling again.
“Sherlock, why is there a tennis ball floating in a bowl of milk in the fridge?”
“It’s an experiment.” Sherlock grins wide, excited to just declare this and John decides not to ask and instead focuses on making his cup of tea. He turns back to offer Sherlock one but is not surprised when Sherlock and the puppy are no longer at the table. The noise coming from the living room instantly confirms they’re in there. He ignores the thuds of movement and instead focuses on making his cup of tea. Just as he’s finished, he hears the doorbell ring from downstairs followed by Mrs Hudson’s cheery voice. Footsteps climb the stairs and, not a second later, a knock at their door follows. Knowing Sherlock wouldn’t answer when distracted, he sighs and abandons his tea to instead answer the door, not even looking at Sherlock on the way. Behind the door is Mr Banks who smiles warmly at John.
“Hello, John. Everything went alright today with my pup I hope?” He asks, though seems a little nervous for his pup’s wellbeing.
“Yes, it’s all fine. Come on in.” John moves back to let him inside and Mr Banks instantly laughs.
“Yeah, I can see that, John.” He grins in amusement.
John turns and pauses when he sees the puppy now wearing the deerstalker which is now sporting a mild tear right down the middle, far too big for her and flops down over her eyes. Sherlock has also draped his coat over the pup’s body and is now taking a picture of it. She is surprisingly still as if she knows she’s posing for his photo. The click of the camera is followed by Sherlock pulling the coat and deerstalker back off the pup who springs back to life right after, leaping up to try and bite the hat. Sherlock smiles and chucks it at her and she wrestles with it, flopping onto her side, holding it close to her body as she kicks it with her hind paws like a rabbit.
“Sher, time for her to go.” John speaks up.
“But why?” Sherlock whines, actually whines like a child being told to leave the sweetshop at last.
“Because her daddy’s here to take her home.” John smiles, wishing the pup could stay for longer at how easily she is at bringing out Sherlock’s emotions.
“Fine.” Sherlock grumbles and scoops up the puppy and the deerstalker before walking over and placing her gently into Mr Banks’ arms. He walks back to the window, facing away with his hands clasped behind his back. It’s clear he’s upset to see her go and Mr Banks smiles at him, an idea blooming in his mind.
“Mr Holmes, perhaps, if you wouldn’t mind, you could puppy-sit for me some time?” He offers.
“That’d be acceptable, I suppose. You know where to find me.” Sherlock agrees nonchalantly and Mr Banks turns to leave. Sherlock surprisingly then draws out what looks to be a large bone from seemingly nowhere which he hands to Mr Banks. “A parting gift.” He says and Mr Banks smiles his thanks before departing, bone and all. John closes the door behind them and sees Sherlock smiling happily now, probably at the idea of seeing the pup again.
“Sherlock, what was that?” John asks, curious at why he gave them a bone right before they left.
“It’s a dog’s bone, John.” Sherlock rolls his eyes at stating the obvious again.
“Right, good, good. I just was worried that you…well never mind.” He shakes his head as Sherlock heads to his room.
Sherlock then calls out as he enters his room, “It belongs to the dog now so it’s the dog’s bone. It did belong to a Mr Parker before the dog but he won’t be missing it. Don’t worry, I cleaned all the blood off before giving it to the dog.”
John catches on instantly at what he’s implying. “Oh my God-Sherlock!”