"Read to the dogs", a sign read outside of the library. Sherlock stared at it, concentrating hard. John, who had been walking beside Sherlock, suddenly stopped, realizing Sherlock was no longer next to him.
"Sherlock?"John spun around and looked at the detective, who was clearly intrigued by a sign in the window of the library.
"What's that? A murder or something?"
Sherlock turned and looked at John, his thick eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
"John, do dogs understand stories?"
"What do you mean Sherlock?"
"Well the sign is asking for people to read to dogs, therapy dogs that aid people. Why would people read to dogs?"
"Erm... I don't know Sherlock. Maybe it helps calm the dogs or teaches them to be patient."
"But do they understand the stories?"
"Sherlock, truly you don't believe that the dogs actually understand the stories."
"John, I think I need to do an experiment."
"No Sherlock, you can't experiment on the therapy dogs."
"I'm not really going to be experimenting on them. Nothing harmful. Just some observations."
"Fine Sherlock, but if I find out you've so much as touched one of those dogs, I will come after you."
"Oh calm down John. We need milk, so you can go shopping and then meet me back here when you're done."
"Oh, so I have to go shopping while you get to go off and perform experiments?"
John's remark was left in the dust as he noticed the detective had already disappeared into the library. He sighed and headed down the sidewalk towards the store, mumbling to himself.

Sherlock rushed to the library counter, plastering on his biggest fake smile and turning up his charm.
"I've come to read to the dogs."
The librarian smiled and let out a laugh,
"Well that's a first! Most the time we have the little kids do it, reading practice and all."
Sherlock flicked his head, swishing his hair back and turning up his charm to an ultimate level.
"Oh but I just love service and therapy dogs. I have a special connection with them, they've always seem to be attracted to me. Especially after my older brother went blind and had to rely on a service dog to help him. Can't seem to stay away from them, saved his life, god bless them."
The woman nodded, still a slight doubt showing across her face, but obviously swooning on the inside.
"Well alright, I'll see what I can do." She gave Sherlock a wink and then turned around and walked to a back room. The second she turned around Sherlock's facade dropped and his disturbingly big smile was replaced with a frown and an eye roll.
'People', Sherlock thought. 'They'll fall in love with anyone if a person smiles and swishes their hair enough.'
The lady returned, a smile plastered across her face. Sherlock was quick to throw back on his fake charm and he looked at the woman expectantly.
"It seems we have an opening. The dogs will be here in about 5 minutes so just get yourself set up in that corner over there, and pick a book. Most the time the children read picture books, but feel free to read what you like. After all, it's not like the dogs understand the stories."
Sherlock's face fell serious,
"Or do they?" He asked, throwing a mysterious glance towards the woman as he turned and walked away, his coat tail flying out behind him. The woman stood frozen in place, confused by the mysteriously charming detective.
Sherlock once again let his facade fall and let out a sigh, ordinary people were so boring. Sherlock headed towards the corner, hanging up his jacket and smoothing out his purple dress shirt. He then headed towards the book shelf to choose a book. He decide upon a picture book, something simple. After all, if the dogs could understand the stories it was most likely they'd understand something simplistic. Sherlock sat down and made himself comfortable, flipping through the book and familiarizing himself with the story. Although this particular book Sherlock was already pretty familiar with. Sherlock sometimes came across as someone who had an abnormal childhood, but one thing Sherlock did enjoy as a child was reading. This particular book was his childhood favorite and he used to have it memorized. As he read through it, his memory came rushing back and Sherlock realized that he still had the story completely memorized. Even in his ever important mind palace there was a place for childhood.
'Don't get sentimental', Sherlock scolded himself. Before he could think too much harder about it, a dog nudged his knee. Sherlock looked up and noticed several other dogs coming over with their trainers. The trainers smiled and nodded, obviously confused as to why Sherlock was there instead of a child. They kept silent though and directed their dogs to lie down next to Sherlock. After they were all settled and owners had left, Sherlock straightened up.
"Shall we begin?"
The dogs just looked back with their ever present grins. Sherlock nodded,
"Right. Well here goes nothing."

John finished paying and grabbed the groceries, leaving the store and heading back down towards the library.
'If Sherlock has gotten in trouble, I'm just going to pretend not to know him. I can return back to the flat, live a happy life and enjoy my Un-experimented on milk. Who am I kidding? I can't leave Sherlock alone. He needs me, and if I'm being honest, I need him as well.' John's thoughts continued on as he made his way down the sidewalk. After several more minutes of walking John finally arrived, relived to not see the detective being handcuffed or shoved into a police car. John made his way to the window and looked in. What he saw was quite a surprise. There was Sherlock, sitting in a chair in the corner reading to dogs. But not just reading, enthusiastically reading. He made big hand gestures and changed his facial expressions, most likely changing his voice as well. John smiled and watched for a few more minutes before heading inside. By the time he had got inside Sherlock had finished his story, with a solid "The end". The dogs all stood at the end, as if aware that Sherlock was done. The dogs then all ran up to Sherlock, excitedly nudging him and attempting to cover him with kisses. John laughed and walked over to Sherlock. Sherlock willingly loved the animals back, petting them and praising them. John smiled,
"Looks like you've made some new friends."
Sherlock looked up and his smile was replaced with a stern look,
"Yes well, all done here, we can go now."
John nodded and watched as the detective straightened his shirt and grabbed his jacket, saying one last goodbye, supposedly to the owners, but John knew that it was really for the dogs. They exited the library and John looked over at Sherlock expectantly. Sherlock barely have John a glance before throwing up his coat collar and picking up his walking pace. John nearly had to run to keep up with the detective. Finally Sherlock waved down a taxi and the two men climbed inside. John knew that there was no way Sherlock could avoid conversation now. Not in such small quarters and with so few people.
"So how did your experiment go?" John stared at Sherlock, expectant, curiosity pouring out his eyes.
"It went well."
"Did you get the information you were hoping for?"
"Yes, it was very helpful."
John nodded and the boys sat in silence for a minute. Finally John spoke, unable to contain himself.
"You enjoyed it, didn't you? Don't lie to me either Sherlock. I saw you and I've known you long enough to know that those smiles weren't fake. Who would have known the so called 'ice man' could be so loving"
"Yeah, well I can love, as long as it's furry and can't speak."
"Did you have a dog Sherlock? When you were young?"
"Yeah."
"And?..."
"His name was Red Beard. He meant the world to me and we had to put him down."
"Oh wow, Sherlock I'm so sorry. I didn't realize..."
"It's no big deal."
"Yes it is Sherlock. It's not easy losing something you love, I've been there and it hurts."
"Yeah well, it was forever ago so let's just drop it, okay?"
John nodded and they sat in silence for a minute. Once again John spoke up,
"Do you want a dog Sherlock? We could get one, I don't mind."
"No John that's fine."
"No but Sherlock I can tell you really love dogs. I want you to be able to have something you love."
John didn't get a response as the taxi pulled up and Sherlock jumped out of the car.
"Oh so I'm paying, am I?" John asked, but it was too late, the detective had already made his way into the flat. John paid the driver and jumped out the car, groceries in hand. He struggled to open the door and finally set down the groceries to pull the door open. He trudged up the stairs and yelled to Sherlock,
"I could use some help you know, groceries and everything."
He finally reached the top and was relieved to see the door to the flat was open. John walked in and kicked the door closed behind him, heading towards the kitchen and setting down the groceries. The detective was nowhere in sight. John finally noticed Sherlock's bedroom door was closed and he made his way down the hall. He knocked twice and waited. Nothing. He knocked twice and waited again. Still nothing. Finally he spoke,
"Sherlock I know you're in there. Let me in. I'm sorry if I upset you, I really didn't mean to."
John waited and sighed, lifting his hand to knock one more time. The door however swung open and Sherlock stood there.
"What do you want?"
"I want to talk."
"No."
"Please."
"Leave. Me. Alone."
"Just for a minute."
Sherlock let out a growl,
"Fine."
John pushed his way in, making his way across the room and sitting on the bed. They sat in silence for a minute before Sherlock spoke,
"So what is it you want?"
"I really think we should get a dog."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because you only want it so that I'll be happy. Which won't work by the way."
"What if I told you that I wanted the dog?"
"I wouldn't believe you."
"Sherlock, please I really think this would be good for you. Why don't you want one? Do you think you won't be able to care for it? I'll help."
Sherlock broke down, a sight John had never seen. The detectives started crying, which slowly turned to sobs, as he laid down on the bed, hiding his face in a pillow. John just rubbed Sherlock's back, trying his best to comfort the detective. Finally Sherlock spoke,
"I'm afraid John. I'm scared of losing a dog. Scared of it becoming sick. Scared of having it die. How am I supposed to tell a dog I love them, when I can't even tell you that I love you?"
John's hand that had been rubbing Sherlock's back froze.
"You love me Sherlock?"
"Oh don't act like it wasn't obvious John."
"No Sherlock, it wasn't, not to me at least."
They sat in silence, minutes ticking by as Sherlock pulled himself together.
"Well John? Are you going to say anything?"
"Sherlock, I thought I was being the obvious one. I swoon over you all the time. I've loved you since day one, you big headed, lovable genius."
Sherlock smiled, a true genuine smile. John reached forward and pushed Sherlock's bedraggled curls from his forehead. He cupped Sherlock's cheeks and wiped away his tears, finally leaning forward and pressing his lips to the detectives. John was gentle and caring. Sherlock was surprised by how much warmth John's lips held. He kissed the doctor back slightly more aggressive, pulling the doctor down on top of him. Sherlock's hands pushed up and under John's shirt, hugging his blogger closer. Finally John pulled,
"This is great and all Sherlock, but I still think we should get a dog."
"Oh fine. Just shut up and kiss me."