Work Text:
Written by banabalisticstorm and illustrated by GhostOfNuggetsPast
That stupid human had told him, "Don't worry, mate. We'll be back in before you know it and then we can all grab some takeout, yeah?" Followed by a scratch between his ears, Archie was fairly content with that deal. A day of lounging around and resting and then John would be home to share his whole meal. Staying at Mariana's was fine, John didn't want him messing everything up. (Sherlock had done more damage than Archie ever thought he could do, but humans are weird like that) And she would be participating in some sort of marathon involving a couch and a TV anyway.
Archie believed him. After all, dogs are man's best friend, how could he not? So, he waited.
It wasn't all that bad, honestly. Mariana was sucked into whatever this week's new obsession was, so it was the perfect opportunity to take a long, uninterrupted nap. No Sherlock experimenting and puttering around in the flat, and no John encouraging him to get up for a walk. Sure, the occasional whoop or commentary coming from the other side of the couch felt a little unnecessary and annoying, but it was nothing compared to when John sat for hours and watched those odd men run around and kick a ball.
It wasn't until later in that night that Mariana finally abandoned her spot on the poor ottoman, an obnoxious ringing filling the room. Thankfully, Mariana found a way to get rid of it, and she also seemed to have left her crisps unattended. With a load grunt, Archie skillfully and casually worked his way over to the other side (bounded over, tripped on his own paw and stumbled before catching himself and plopping his butt atop the armrest). Keeping an ear out for his self proclaimed babysitter, he shoved his face in the bowl of crisps and, seasoning them with an endless supply of drool, inhaled them.
About halfway through the bowl of crisps, Archie overheard Mariana talking to herself. Whatever, humans are weird. The topic, however, intrigued him. John. He paused his chewing and angled his ears in order to eavesdrop to the best of his ability.
"Unfortunate.... hotel... Sherlock... Archie... tomorrow..."
Unable to decipher more than a few words, Archie gobbled up the rest of the crisps and launched himself off the couch, stumbling his way over to Mariana and snuffling at her feet. Just as he began to grunt and whine, the woman placed the weird, bright rectangle down after having it pressed to her face whilst she was talking.
"Looks like you're spending the night with me, Archie boy. John and Sherlock got caught up and won't be able to make it home until tomorrow evening." She patted the top of his head, oblivious to the sudden realization dawning over the bulldog staring up at her with crooked teeth sticking out of his bottom jaw.
He wouldn't be getting any of John's dinner tonight. The doctor and Sherlock would sit together and eat it all. How selfish. He could practically feel the betrayal churning his stomach, or was that hunger? Since John had so neglectfully abandoned him, he would have to deal with the container of dog food Mariana kept under the cabinet, as she was unlikely to share anything with him after she discovered the empty bowl discarded on the cushion. He was absolutely going to whither away before the end of his stay.
At Mariana's exasperated sigh, Archie bolted over to the cabinet containing his food (not before turning up his nose and snorting), praying that he could convince her that John just wasn't feeding him enough, though his ungraceful hobbling wasn't really helping him with that. As he paused in his path to evaluate if Mariana was following or not, he heard a gentle clink as her glass made contact with the table, and then the continuation of whatever she had been previously watching.
Dramatically dragging his paws the rest of the way, he flopped in front of the cabinet and rested his head along his paws, ensuring he added a hefty sigh to get across his point, as if it wasn't already enough previously.
What felt like moments later, footsteps wrung in his ears as the bulldog blinked the sleep away from his eyes. He instantly perked up, figuring it was Mariana bringing him food, though he was disappointed upon looking around the kitchen. Within moments, though, his disappointment waned, glancing around and finding that it was now morning, and those footsteps he heard were, rather, his owners.
Spotting Mariana getting up, he shoved himself up, bounding across the flat until his nose slammed into the door, where an audible whine was heard and then a shake of the head to play it off. His tail shot back and forth, staring up at the man entering upon Mariana's opening of the door. Finally. He'd get his special dinner, the one John would claim was his own and then end up feeding half of to Archie anyway. Sherlock wasn't even around to mention it not being the greatest idea to constantly feed a begging, drooling, and rather round,(though Archie disagreed on that), dog your own food.
"Hey Archie boy!" John cheered, snapping the over-excited companion out of his thoughts, a dopey smile on his face. In return, he got a quite expressive boof before one wet nose was shoved into his palms, snuffling all over in search for the craving he so desired.
He paused at the lack of a food smell, recoiling his head and huffing, though the doctor above him was clearly unfazed by this, scooping him up and saying his goodbyes to Mariana, claiming he desperately needed to catch up on sleep and check up on a certain detective. Maybe then he would reveal what Archie's been waiting for, the floppy canine wondered, tail no longer wagging and instead taking to rest against the man's forearm.
Though as the door opened and Archie was set down on the familiar floor, only kibble was tossed into his porcelain bowl. The betrayal again sunk in almost instantly, eyeing John as he turned and ventured towards his own room in the shared flat. There was no meal waiting for him. Of course, despite this, he gobbled up the kibble and licked the dish clean, but that didn't mean he was happy about it.
Ever the one to point out the mistakes of his owner when it came to food, he began barking and whining, circling his dish in hopes he could get either man to come to his rescue, though he doubted Sherlock would. He felt his shock and hurt only grow upon being ignored, stuck up his nose, and decided he was going to do something about it. He wasn't exactly sure what, but he started pacing around the flat, not unlike the detective he had to live with, ideas brewing in his head.
After a much needed rest, John stretched his limbs, careful of his aging yet still delicate wounds, placing his feet on the floor and pushing himself up. He hadn't eaten since they left the hotel, so he began shuffling his way to the kitchen, humming to himself quietly. He figured Sherlock would be sleeping for quite a while, as he tended to do that after harrowing cases with an immense lack of rest, so he opened the fridge for ideas on what to make himself. He could always make up some penne for his friend later when he made his way to the living side of the world.
Pausing his humming, he spotted a certain container on the bottom shelf of the fridge, bending over to pick it up and calling Archie over in the process. "Archie, mate! I picked something up for you on our way home. I know I was gone for longer than expected." He explained, though internally scolded himself for explaining all of this to a dog who clearly didn't care what he was saying.
John emptied the container out in Archie's food dish, chuckling a little when the bulldog went face first snuffling into the cold takeout. It clearly didn't matter to him the temperature nor the contents by the way his drool created a puddle within the dish and along the sides. Sherlock would complain about that later, but for now the doctor didn't really mind. Let the dog have some enjoyment, he felt guilty for leaving him longer than he had planned at Mariana's.
Archie, meanwhile, fought a different sense of guilt as he devoured the food in front of him. Maybe when John found out what he did, he would have all the food already finished, so it wouldn't be taken away from him.
"Right, might as well do a mailbag while I wait on Sherlock, right boy?" With a final scratch to Archie's head, John turned off and made his way to the living quarters of the flat, where he discarded his laptop and microphone for the podcast. He remembered placing the laptop on the table, but he wasn't quite sure about putting the microphone on the floor underneath it, but he didn't think much of it. It clearly just fell off the couch and rolled.
Despite this, John recoiled as he reached out for it, finding it wet and covered in little teeth marks. He instantly stood up, hitting his head against the table he had to reach under and looking towards the kitchen once recovered. "Mate, did you bloody piss on my microphone?!"