Sherlock's Pet
"John darling what a wonderful idea"enthused Mrs Hudson, "Of course you can use 221C, all the equipment is there from my own training days" she sighed a little, a reminiscent smile on her lips.
"I always loved starting a new project, the initial selection of the little darling, the time spent getting to know them, learning all their little foibles, working out the best method of training, getting them to trust you and then the first time they beg for affection, knowing from that point on they are yours"
There was a gleam in her kind eyes which made John Watson smile with appreciation. She must have been formidable in her prime. Come to think of it, she still was.
She shook off the memories "Too old to now " she said briskly, losing the trace of wistful nostalgia and smiled at her handsome boy standing in front of her with that naughty grin on his face.
"I had to give my last pet to Mrs Turners married ones, I couldn't give him the care and attention he needed and I didn't want to have to send him to the disposal centre, where if they can't find a home for them in six months, they have them put down. It's outrageous, bloody government cuts, all those beautiful trained Pets who could give someone so much love and pleasure and they won't pay for the time to find the right owner"
She remarked angrily, then shrugged apologetically at the ex-soldier standing in front of her for getting on her soapbox and returned to the subject with a slight smile
"But I still get to play with him sometimes when the married ones are away and bless him the little darling still remembers his Mistress and he always begs for attention so beautifully"
Her smile was fond, then her interest was peaked by John's next comment
"Well Mrs H, I was hoping you'd give me, or rather us some advice, obviously this is for Sherlock, you know how bored he gets when he's not got any cases, but also thought it would help him. Pets can be such good outlets for frustrations and emotions, especially if you have a problem dealing with that sort of thing anyway."
She nodded her head with excitement, what a lovely treat from her boys. To be able to give them the benefit of her knowledge without having to do all the hard work. What fun!
She patted John's cheek in acceptance and then asked him for all the details as she bustled into the kitchen to make them some tea.
"Of course he knows nothing about it" the good Dr smirked as he sipped at his mug and took a biscuit
"Mycroft and I discussed it and we decided against one from the breeding centres, too tame for Sherlock. He needs to train a wild one, so Mycroft convened a private hunt for tomorrow night; he said he could offset the cost by selling the ones that Sherlock had no interest in".
Mrs Hudson's eyes widened with shock
"Are you sure that's a good idea, John, you know the pedigree and history from the breeding centres and they can provide any type you need, a wild hunt, well you could end up with anything"
"That's the point Mrs H, it has to gain his interest, he wouldn't accept one from the breeding farms, too predictable, and a wild one will present him with a challenge"
John contradicted her calmly, he had given this a lot of thought and discussed it with Mycroft who actually agreed with him for once.
Suddenly there was a stern expression on her face and John caught a glimpse of the Martha Hudson who had been a professional pet trainer and won awards for her work and innovative methods. Unconsciously he sat up straighter, feeling like he was back in front of his commanding officer for a ticking off.
"In that case young man I will definitely be overseeing your little project and I will be reminding Sherlock of his responsibilities as a trainer, in case he becomes over enthusiastic. I have my reputation to maintain and this is my house. If the first pet he ever trains is going to be a wild one, then you and he will be taking my advice or I will ensure that the Pet is taken away, do I make myself clear"
Sherlock was abroad on a case, he had nearly refused to go, declaring it a mere 6 on his personal scale of interest, but luckily for John, the addition of a few unexpected body parts and the theft of the last three remaining Vatican cameos had elevated it to 9, so he had enthusiastically left his lover to his own devices when John had refused to abandon his voluntary shifts at the Homeless centre. It also gave him the perfect excuse to make sure everything was ready for Sherlock's return.
Mycroft had arranged the renovation of 221C to bring it up to current training standards, Mrs Hudson had been intrigued when the surveillance cameras were installed, she had used baby monitors in her day, but John was pleased because the feeds in 221B would allow Sherlock to view the pet at any time. Perfect lab conditions, and one of the ways he was hoping to get Sherlock on board with the project.
John had been concerned about his partner's growing disinclination to deal with anything remotely resembling social interaction, other than John and his work. Sometimes he even forgot to speak to his darling Mrs Hudson, and the relationship between Sherlock and Mycroft was indefinable and unique. So John had decided to do something about it.
He had got the idea after spending a rare evening out with Sherlock at one of Mycroft's formal events at the Diogenes club. He had seen the spark of curiosity in Sherlock's eyes as he listened to Mycroft expound to an European Ambassador about the wild hunts they had revived as a sop to the public after the cost of the breeder farms became prohibitively high and there had been a summer of riots and strikes because of it.
The 'Wild Hunt' had caught the public imagination as the very clever and now very rich PR man who had come up the idea had known and were now even televised if the hunts were public.
Places on the public hunts were free and allocated through an application process, and should one of the less wealthy participants win the hunt, and the Government made sure that the hunt was won often enough despite the lack of experience of the participants because they did not want a repeat of the summer of rioting and strikes, then they were given government funding for the adequate training and care of the pet.
Of course should the pet's treatment be unacceptable then the pet was removed to either a rehabilitation centre and passed on to a more careful and considerate owner or mercifully put to sleep. Some of the wild ones never accepted captivity.
Then there were the private licensed hunts, for the very wealthy or very well connected, who used the expensive and specially trained hunt teams to capture a rare wild pet, usually one they had specified in detail.
Mycroft was very, very, very rich and very, very, very well connected, in fact he was the connection other people used if they wanted to appear well connected, his hunt teams were military specialists and he always got what he wanted.
So John was going to get a wild pet for Sherlock to train and to care for. He knew his lover had a deep well of emotion he tried to smother; he knew that Sherlock was only comfortable emotionally with him and sometimes Mrs Hudson, but training and caring for a totally dependent affectionate Pet whose entire focus was its master would allow Sherlock a most needed release for those suppressed overwhelming emotions.
He was a little jealous when he thought about it, he'd always thought he would love a pet of his own one day but Sherlock needed a pet even though he didn't want one.
The day of the wild hunt dawned and Sherlock had arrived back from his travels the night before. He could see that John was excited about something. For a few moments he actually accepted it as his right because he was home, but then he noticed the looks of anticipation that his John kept giving his watch, the conspiratorial secret smiles when they came across Mrs Hudson, the excited little shakes which John gave when he thought Sherlock wasn't looking.
Finally Sherlock sighed with amusement "My dear John what are you up to?" he asked with a laugh, "You are behaving like a little boy waiting for Christmas morning"
John grinned at him and teased in a little boy voice "Not telling", Sherlock's eyes widened with surprise and then predatory glee "Is that a fact?" he breathed as he stalked towards his laughing nervous lover. He loomed over the shorter man as he pinned him to the fridge.
John sighed against Sherlock's mouth and raised his arms around his neck; he proceeded to nibble on the beautiful surprisingly full lips above him, and they ground their hips against each others, feeling their respective hardening as he licked the bottom lip, and thrust his tongue in and out in a familiar motion into the delicious wet, hot silky mouth.
The politely disparaging cough behind them made John start to pull away, but Sherlock wouldn't let him go, his hands were tugging on buttons to get to smooth tanned skin, only stopping kissing John for the three seconds it took to tell his brother to bugger off and leave them alone.
He could feel John laugh against his mouth and heard the satisfied smirk underneath the obvious bored annoyance in Mycroft's reply as Mycroft surprisingly switched on the television.
"You will want to watch this brother dear"
As Sherlock began to sigh with obvious irritation, he felt John's lips pull away from his own, and his lover remark huskily, in that voice which normally sent spirals of hot and urgent desire crawling through his blood stream, dipping through his stomach like a roller coaster and making a beeline down to the end pulsing like sparking electricity through his interested cock. It distracted him for a full second wondering how quickly he could get rid of his brother and his landlady in order to get John on the floor, beneath him whilst he ravaged his way across that delectable body..
"Mycroft's right Sherlock, you will want to watch this." and John's hand's pushed him away to turn to face the screen and his brother. He was surprised when Mrs Hudson also chimed in and told him to watch, he flicked his gaze across all three faces, John's smugly nervous, Mycroft's amused and Mrs Hudson stern but with an air of excitement. He frowned and turned to face the screen. It wasn't a normal television programme; it was receiving live feeds from surveillance and tracking cameras. The screen itself was split into four sections, each covering a different area. The first looked to be an underground subway station, the second a high rise inner city estate, the third a large public park and the fourth a cemetery.
Sherlock's frown deepened but no-one saw fit to inform him of what he was looking at; they all looked at him expectantly. Then he saw them,he understood what he was looking at, there in each section the familiar black uniform of the hunters, closing in on a target. He drew a sharp breath, a different excitement fizzing through his body and his brain; it was a hunt, a wild hunt.
He turned to look at John who smiled wickedly and nodded at him, Mycroft interrupted the heated gazes between his little brother and lover,
"This is John's gift to you Sherlock. You will have first choice from this evening's hunts brother. Four are showing on the screen currently, but there are twelve scheduled for tonight, so if you are not happy with this first four, then there are another eight you may choose from. If you can't find anything suitable tonight then I have promised John that you will have first choice of all the Government sponsored hunts until you make your selection."
"You are giving me a wild pet" Sherlock muttered in surprise with a tinge of awe, then tried to make up for his almost childlike reaction, but John saw straight through it, and even Mrs Hudson laughed this time. Though she said firmly,
"You have to choose wisely Sherlock, the wild ones can be so challenging".
Sherlock moved over to her and hugged her, then turned his attention back to the screen.
John came and stood beside him, "We thought you might prefer a male" as he gestured towards the video feeds. Sherlock nodded in absent agreement as he observed what was happening on the screen. He heard Mrs Hudson's low voiced almost absent comment about female wild ones being worse than males to train and stored it away in the back of his mind whilst he focused on the hunts happening in front of him.
Molly Hooper closed and locked the door to her flat behind her with shaking hands. She was dripping on her hallway carpet, threadbare though it was, for God's sake, but she didn't think she could take another step.
She couldn't take in enough air to calm her shudders down, she was crying with fear and relief, her mouth was so arid, she could go back and drink the river dry, the one she had leapt into to get away from the hunters.
Sweet merciful God, she had got away from the hunters, how in the name of all that was holy had she done that?They were professionals, they were dangerous and she was a timid mousy short poor orphaned med student who's only regular exercise was running for the bus in the morning because she was always late.
She drew a deep breath and took off her dripping winter woollen coat. She'd didn't know if she would be able to wash it and get it back into some respectable shape, she didn't have another one and it was too cold now to try to just go out with a couple of jumpers on.
She studied it in dismay, bastards, utter, utter bastards she had only just managed to save enough from her part time job to buy it from the charity shop, and they had let her pay weekly, it was the first decent winter coat she'd had since her Dad had died, it was way too big for her but it bloody kept her warm, and now because of those uniformed bastards it was ruined.
River water, mud, and silt did not have a positive impact on an old woollen coat. She knew she was rambling, she knew it but she couldn't think yet, she couldn't deal with what had just happened, and so very nearly what could have happened to her if she had been caught, so she would keep on rambling thank you very much until her scared little brain calmed down,
Her knees gave way on her and she collapsed against the hall wall, her head in her trembling hands. Raging thirst finally forced her to move from that position and she slid up the wall to her feet. Her head was still pounding like a drum. She went into the tiny kitchen, took a clean glass from the draining board and filled it with cold tap water. The feeling of the water slipping down her burning throat calmed her, and she filled it again after she had gulped the first glass down.
Her brain suddenly focused. Bastards, they hadn't announced the hunt like they were supposed to. They had even tried to take her in the graveyard, when she was putting flowers on her Dad's grave, churches and religious sites were places of sanctuary, off limits to the hunt, it was in their own well publicised rules and the bastards had still tried to take her down there
She was going to fucking report them... Who the fuck could she report them to…..They were the fucking Government. A sob left her throat. She could feel the fear crawling over her skin like a living entity and she couldn't believe that she was safe. Of course she was safe, they couldn't take her now, she was on her home territory, and no fucking way was she leaving the flat for the next week, fuck college, fuck her part-time job, she was staying tucked up in her grotty little flat out of the way of the fucking men in black and their evil fucking hunts.
Bloody hell she must be rattled, she had just used the F word more in the last sixty seconds than in the previous two years, she gave a startled giggle which quickly turned to helpless sobs again. Slowly she managed to get herself under control.
Her shoulders slumped and finally the adrenaline buzzing through her body was beginning to ebb. She knew she would be crashing very soon and then sleeping for ages. But first she needed to see the news, if they had announced the hunt properly it would be all over the TV like a rash, and if they hadn't then... then her fear gauge was going to rack straight back up to critical if not overload, because she didn't know what to do, and what it meant.
She didn't bother putting the light on in the living room, just headed straight towards the scabby little plastic coffee table which held the remote control. As she pressed the button for her pathetic little television to power up, the main overhead light came on, almost blinding her and she winced in surprise, the brightness momentarily hurting her eyes.
She turned around confused and her eyes widened with horror as she saw a stocky blonde haired man wearing the black uniform of a hunter smiling at her from the entrance, one hand on the light switch.
"Hello sweetheart, now don't you worry your pretty head anymore, you must be so tired after your little adventure, let me help you"
His voice was soothing and so calm and for a second for one insane second, she almost swayed towards him for comfort as, to her confused brain, he had exactly the same intonation as the hospital consultant who had told her father that there was nothing further they could do for him and that he needed to put his affaires in order.
Her eyes grew impossible wide. "No" her voice was a terrified disbelieving whisper,
"You're not allowed to be here, this is my home, you can't come into my home",
The man's sympathetic smile grew and she backed away from him, looking desperately at the window trying to judge how quickly she could get to it before he got to her. Then she was clamped against a hard chest and two hard hands gripped her arms. She couldn't move. There were two of them, oh god she was trapped. She was caught, the hunters were in her house and were restraining her.
Well if she couldn't damage him physically, at least if he held her long enough, he would get soaked through too and maybe catch a cold , she thought with burgeoning hysteria.
A deep baritone voice spoke close her ear.
"That's enough running now, you have been very clever to escape them little one, so clever in fact that you had to be the one, you are just perfect for me. There really was no other choice after I saw your performance. I thought my new pet would be a boy but even in that you challenge and surprise me. You were so, so fascinating little one, so small and so determined even in your fear and you outwitted the trained professionals."
There was an almost proud tone to the cold velvet voice "You are mine now, my pet" and the possessive growl in that voice horrified her and caused her to renew her struggles against his grip and kick at him. The satisfaction she felt when she heard him grunt with pain was immediately tempered by bone deep fear when she could feel the anticipatory smile in the velvet voice
"I can see obedience will be a high priority on your training schedule"
She opened her mouth to scream and scream and scream but suddenly the blonde haired man was in front of her, his dark blue eyes sternly kind. One square blunt calloused hand stroked the side of her face and said calmly
"Enough now sweetheart, enough fighting, enough fear, you need to rest before you collapse"
And then there was a sting at her neck and she could feel the darkness begin to take her, slumping helplessly against the tall lithe body which held her securely, as she heard the velvet voice congratulate "John" on his wonderfully intriguing gift which was definitely a 10, and she felt a hand stroke through her hair as he drawled with chilling joy
"Oh the experiments I can perform with you my lovely little wild pet"
AN:
First fic. Hope you like. Would love to have your comments and reviews. Do you think it has potential as a longer story?