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John Watson was in the middle of something promising when Sherlock indicated that he wanted to go outside. He did this in his usual fashion, by pounding at the window with his giant paws until the glass rattled, and John’s landlady, Miss Hudson, was stomping down the stairs to demand an explanation. Their next meal ticket didn’t seem to matter to Sherlock as much as his twice-daily constitutional, and why should it when John was sure to feed him either way. Even if it meant John getting by on marmite sandwiches and digestives.
John looked at the clock.
“Five o'clock already!" he exclaimed, unaware that Sherlock turned the dials to suit his needs as he pleased. "Fine old sport, get your leash.”
They always took the scenic route through Hyde Park, circling Serpentine lake on the way back from the gardens, but this time Sherlock insisted on taking a left at the gate and going in the opposite direction. Sticking his nose to the ground he pulled John determinately down a flight of steps, across a lawn and into a thicket of bushes.
“I can’t go in there Sherlock,” John squawked, pulling free from a thatch of brambles.“Let’s go around.”
But Sherlock was adamant that they go through the bushes, and after a brief but fruitless tug-o-war, John emerged on the other side somewhat worse for wear and missing his bowler hat.
“Now see here,” he said sternly, trying to rein in Sherlock, even as the giant mongrel charged ahead across another lawn and downhill towards the lake. “I’ve just about had enough of that, you hear me? Settle down, Sherlock!” But predictably, Sherlock paid him no mind, and John took a moment to contemplate his life choices.
A few benches surrounded the lake where visitors liked to rest and enjoy the view, and maybe read a book or write in a journal. Today only one bench was occupied. A slim, blonde man in spectacles was reading a book, a beautiful white collie at his feet. Sherlock stopped a few feet away and began wagging his tail, looking from John to the stranger and back again, his entire body shaking with the kind of excitement he only ever got from chasing the neighbour’s cat, Adler, down the hall.
The collie watched them approach with no particular interest, and John felt remise to disturb the man.
“Ok, let’s go Sherlock. She doesn’t want to play with you.”
The blonde man looked up from his book and glanced at John.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” John rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just telling my dog Sherlock that your dog doesn’t want to play with him. He seemed very eager to make her acquaintance.”
“Him,” corrected the young man.
“Ahh...”
"William.”
“Nice to meet you, William,” John said, catching up. “My name is John.” The man smiled.
“My dog’s name is William", he clarified, "I’m Louis.”
“Oh! Sorry!” John laughed. Sherlock, seeing that human rapport had been established, renewed his efforts to get to William. William appeared to be observing all this with placid amusement, seemingly undisturbed by Sherlocks enthusiasm to accost him with his love. If he didn't know any better, John could have sworn the collie was laughing. His scarlet eyes were narrowed in a way that seemed to say - 'come and catch me if you can, silly mutt.'
“He seems eager to have this spot,” Louis laughed. “How fortunate then that we were about to head on home.” He placed the book in his satchel and rose to leave. John was about to correct him. There was something intriguing about the man. He was without a doubt beautiful, and John would have enjoyed getting to know him better, but his natural shyness won out and he shrugged and laughed it off.
“Good day to you,” said Louis.
“Oh, and to you too! I…I hope we'll have the pleasure of running into each other again.” John winced, but Louis only smiled and nodded, and if there was a slight dusting of pink across his cheeks, well it was a sunny day and could have just as easily been sunburn.
Louis and William began walking along the shore towards the road, and John was about to take the bench when Sherlock reared and charged for William with the force of a runaway train.
John careened dangerously and sprinted after Sherlock who reached Louis and William just as they were starting to making their way uphill, and looped around them.
“Sherlock!” John yelled. He was horribly embarrassed. “I’m sorry," he said to Louis who’d paused just in time to stop himself from tripping on the leash. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him, honestly!”
“It’s fine, I assure you,” laughed Louis, lifting his leg to try and step over the leash, but Sherlock was evidently having none of it. Darting around in circles he wound the leash over both John and Louis until he ran out of lead, at which point he continued to pull, tightening the leash around them.
This of course resulted in a predictable outcome.
John stumbled and fell into Louis who in turn caught him around the shoulders to stop them from going down. And so they stood, pressed together, foot to chest, looking anywhere but at each other.
“I – ,” started John, but Sherlock barked and gave another yank, making both men lose their footing at the same time. They fell holding one another and rolling down the bank until they landed in the lake in a spray of water. William, in an effort to stop his master from falling, grabbed the back of his shirt; but unfortunately it tore clean down the middle and remained in his jaws - sans master.
John and Louis surfaced at the same time.
“Oh my god…I am so sorry…” John was beyond apologetic. What do you even say at a time like this?
“Don’t,” Louis cut him off, shivering. Arms crossed over his naked chest. “Just…don’t…”
John rubbed one hand across his face and wished for nothing more than to be struck down by some water-dwelling malady. Louis was looking towards the shore. By the water Sherlock and William sat side by side, watching their master’s with lolling tongues. Next to William lay what remained of Louis’ shirt.
Suddenly Sherlock turned towards William and licked him right across the nose.
“That fiend!” screamed Louis, wadding towards the shore. “You leave William alone, you hear me!”
John startled at the angry yell from someone he thought to be a soft-spoken, mild-mannered man.
"I'm terribly sorry," he said for what felt like the hundredth time. "It seems my Sherlock has taken a liking to your William. It really can't be helped. All in innocent fun, you know?" He tried to placate the other man, wadding after him.
"I think not," replied Louis, stumbling his way ashore and grabbing William's leash. "William could do without such company, thank you very much."
"I beg your pardon!" exclaimed John, strangely offended on Sherlock's behalf. The wolfhound cross might be a shaggy beast, a notorious escape artist and a major glutton, but he was John's best friend and he'd be damned if he let anyone dismiss him like that. "And just what exactly do you mean by that?"
Louis ignored him in favour of moving uphill towards the road
"I apologies, but we must be going," Louis muttered over his shoulder, tugging William behind him. The collie seemed reluctant to leave Sherlock now that he was being lavished with playful licks and eskimo kisses.
John removed his jacket and waved it after Louis like a white flag.
"Wait! You don't mean to walk home half naked?! Please take this!" he cried.
Louis hesitated a moment, but came back to take the jacket from John.
"I...thank you," he said, looking at the ground. "I would like to return it," he said, blushing after shrugging on the jacket. "Please provide me your address."
"It's 221B Baker Street," said John. Louis nodded, looking to the side.
"Oh William," he said, despondently. John followed his gaze to where Sherlock and William lay curled together, exchanging licks and rubbing noses. William appeared to be especially determined to lick that one stray curl on top of Sherlocks head into compliance. Sherlock had that glazed look in his eyes of someone high on love.
John sighed.
"I know this is...not ideal," he said, "but I live nearby. You're more than welcome to come to my place to borrow some clothes and warm by the fireplace."
Louis hesitated, eyes still on the happily dotting William.
"Honestly," John continued, "It's the least I can do."
Louis seemed unsure, but just as he was about to reply the sky opened up and torrential rain descended on them in heavy, fluttering sheets.
Louis sagged under the weight of what John suspected might be the worst day of his life, but John caught sight of a tentative smile trying to break free and thought there’s still hope to turn things around.
"Lead the way."