John yawned as he walked down the stairs from his room into the living room, and swearing in surprise as he tripped over something huge and hairy, stumbling to his knees "What the hell?" he muttered. Sherlock looked up from where he was sat in front of his laptop across the room "Careful" he stated about thirty seconds too late. John scrambled to his feet and turned around. The shape raised its head. It was a dog, a huge, brown and white, scruffy creature with long drooping ears "What the hell?" John repeated "Why's there a dog in our flat? What's it doing here?" he asked, looking down. The dog stared at him for a few seconds and flopped back down "He" Sherlock replied, not taking his eyes off the screen. "What?" John asked, still focussing on the dog.
"He's not 'it'. He's a he. Toby"
"Sherlock, you forget to eat. Please tell me you didn't get a dog"
"God no. Can you imagine trying to fit him around a case? I've just borrowed him for some experiments" Sherlock laughed like the idea of him having a dog was the most ridiculous suggestion ever. John turned round looking shocked "No. I tolerate poison chemicals in the cupboard and body parts in the fridge. But I am not letting you conduct animal testing in here Sherlock! It's wrong, it's somebody's dog for Pete's sake!"
"You don't understand. No surprise there" Sherlock muttered. Then, clearer "I'm not testing anything on him. I'm testing what chemicals can be used to prevent him finding blood trails. Toby's a home trained sniffer dog"
"That's reassuring. Though he doesn't look like a sniffer dog. He looks like a lump of fur" John said doubtfully, leaning down to scratch the dog's head. He liked dogs. As a kid he had always wanted one, but his parents never let him. And now with his life it was just too busy.
"He's a lurcher spaniel cross. Though he has a lot of wolfhound in him" Sherlock informed him. John nodded, knowing better than to question it. He walked through to the kitchen and poured some water into the kettle. The dog followed him with an odd, waddling gait, and watched him expectantly "When did you get him?"
"Six AM I believe"
"Have you given him anything to drink?"
"No? Why would I?" Sherlock asked, seeming generally confused. John sighed
"It's a dog Sherlock! It can't get it itself!" he exclaimed. He grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with water, putting it on the floor for the dog, who lapped at it noisily "I forget" Sherlock shrugged. John sighed, going to sit down "Didn't you have any pets when you were a kid?" He asked.
"No. Mummy hated anything with fur. I briefly had a parrot until Mycroft discovered it in my cupboard and took it back. You?"
"We had a cat called Simon. He was a huge fat thing, ginger. My parents didn't like dogs. Me and Harry had goldfish, they never ended well"
"Harry and I" Sherlock corrected. John shrugged. Toby finished his drink and walked over to the consulting detective, putting his head on Sherlock's lap. Sherlock pushed him away with the tips of his fingers, looking down in dismay at the trail of drool the dog left behind "I think I'm more of a cat person" He sighed. John laughed, calling Toby over
"Who's a good boy Toby? Who's a good dog?" he chatted, scratching the mongrel under his chin. Sherlock sighed loudly. John looked around and spotted a collar and leash hanging off the door handle "Are you done with your experiments?" he asked.
"For now"
"So Toby's going back home?" John pressed.
"No, I agreed I'd take care of him the whole month. His owner is in Africa. Inconvenient but necessary" Sherlock sighed.
"A month? Did they give you food and his bed and everything?" John asked, looking around, but seeing nothing. "No" Sherlock replied "He's fairly forgetful"
"What are you going to do?" John asked. Sherlock shrugged and typed something else
"He'll be fine"
"What do you mean he'll be fine! Look, I'll take him for a walk and get some stuff ok?"
"If you must" Sherlock nodded, still not looking up. John rose from his chair and picked up the collar
"Come on Toby. Time for a walk" John announced. The dog lumbered over and after a minute of fumbling John clipped on his collar, and left. Sherlock watched him leave. As the door shut a small smirk appeared on his face "I wouldn't make him do it, but he makes it so easy" He muttered to his skull. It did not respond.
