Pirates
A.N.: This is my first attempt at Sherlock Fanfiction. Fluff and feels ahead, so READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Enjoy!
Sherlock looked up briefly from his (John's) computer when he heard the door open and shut. Judging by the way that the door had shut at a reasonable volume, not too loud, not too soft, he deduced that John was back from his shopping. As he heard the clomping up the staircase, he also deduced that he was carrying something heavy, probably something for him. Otherwise, he would have asked for help so as not to jostle his bad shoulder or Mrs. Hudson's hip. He looked up again and raised a critical eyebrow when the man in question walked through the door, large, odd-shaped package being placed on the floor. He had asked for nothing on a holiday as superficial as a birthday. Then the parcel rustled slightly.
*Independent motion.
* Sound of breathing.
*Parcel in the shape of a dog crate.
*Black hairs on John's clothes.
*Covered, not wrapped.
*Smell of dog.
Everything lined up perfectly in his mind. His mouth dropped open and he just stood there for a minute in pure shock, eyes welling up.
John, seeing that his flatmate had already deduced the contents of the gift, removed the bow-clad towel, revealing a black Irish setter pup. He then opened the door, letting the creature to run forth and the dog to pad curiously out of its shelter.
John grinned as Sherlock played with the puppy, laying on his back and letting the canine stand on top of him and lick his face. He noticed that the dog was licking tears of joy off the man's cheeks, which made John grin all the wider; but not nearly as wide and happily as Sherlock himself was.
The good doctor had been secretly, which was no easy task, conversing with Mycroft in order to find out what kind of dog Sherlock had had. Mycroft didn't know, however, that he planned on buying the dog, albeit in a different color.
"So, what're you going to name him?" he asked, looking fondly down at man and man's best friend. Sherlock had chosen to sit back up with the setter in his lap, still licking his cheeks. He held the dog as if it were the only thing that would keep him alive. The setter kept its paws on his chest, whining gleefully as if crying itself.
"Blackbeard," he replied without further explanation.
"Blackbeard?" John echoed.
"Yes." John elected to let the matter alone.
That night, Sherlock allowed Blackbeard to sleep on his bed, which John was secretly a little jealous of.
Best Birthday EVER! Sherlock decided, before promptly falling asleep, a warm dog in the crook of his knees.
A.N.: Not bad, huh? I love this show, and I got this idea in my head and ran with it. If enough people request it, I might even do more chapters with Blackbeard going on cases with them! If you think I should do case chapters, be sure to give me a suggestion for a case. Thank you for your time and GOD BLESS!