I don't own any of the characters and I'm not getting any profit from this.
Author's note, or a word on how this story came about:
My friend told me about the recent fad of some women actually dying the fur of their unfortunate dogs to match the colour of their own clothes and accessories for the day. The idea immediately made us think of the dead woman in A Study In Pink. What if she had had a dog? She surely must have dyed its fur pink... What would Sherlock have done, had he found a small pink dog near a dead body? He must have insisted on taking it back to Baker Street for further examination - as a possible piece of evidence, of course. Here's what happened afterwards.
(This is my first time here as a writer, though I've been reading fanfiction for a while now. Hope you'll enjoy.)
"You can't call it Pink, John."
"It IS pink, isn't it?"
"You can't call it Pink anyway. Ordinary."
"What do YOU want to call it?"
"Edgar."
"Edgar!"
"After Edgar Allan Poe. Favourite writer."
"You can't call it Edgar."
"Why not?"
"It's a girl."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"John."
"Yes, Sherlock?"
"What's Agatha doing? At the door."
"He needs a walk, Sherlock. Dogs need walks. You must take her out."
"Agatha's not a dog, she's a piece of evidence."
"Well, this piece of evidence NEEDS a walk."
"I'm not taking her. It's like grocery shopping. YOU do the grocery shopping."
"Shameful enough. Anyway, YOU wanted to take her home. You take care of her."
"I've already fed her."
"Yes, on my takeaway Chinese, and I had to eat cheese on toast instead."
"You like cheese on toast, don't you?"
"That's not the point here. You'll have to take Agatha for a walk."
"No. I'm busy."
"OK."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Mrs. Hudson?"
"Yes, John?"
"How do you...er... what sort of cleaning liquid do you use for carpets?"
"Carpets? What have you done to my carpet?"
"Personally, I haven't. It was Sherlock..."
"No, I wasn't. I was in the kitchen at the time, conducting an experiment."
"But it was you who..."
"I obviously can't have had anything to do with it. As I said, I wasn't even in the living room. It's..."
"Can the two of you please tell me what's been going on here?"
"I can't, and I'm busy, I've got a case, you can handle this, John, and..."
"Really, Sherlock..."
"Wuff. Mrmmgg. Wuff."
"What WAS that? Now you weren't going to tell me that you've got a..."
"Not me, Mrs H. It's Sher.."
"It's a piece of evidence! How many times do I have to tell you? Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains?"
"Your piece of evidence has just... Can we just have some of that cleaning liquid, Mrs H.?"
"Now wait. You want carpet-cleaning liquid. You've never been this keen on cleaning so far, though I've told you a thousand times I'm not your housekeeper. Now you tell me what that noise was. I've seen enough of Sherlock's evidence, and some of it was quite smelly, but none of it has growled and barked so far. You get that dog out of that flat, and VERY soon!"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Have you finished with the carpet, John?"
"Piss off, Sherlock. You should be..."
"I'm busy. And I've just found a new home for Agatha. Don't tell me I haven't done anything useful to clear this matter up."
"At least you could say 'scuse the pun, or something. How did you find her a home so soon, anyway? You were only away for about ten minutes."
"It was quite easy. It seemed evident, in fact, from the moment I took her downstairs."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Aggie...Agatha... Come to Granny! Dinner!"
"Wuff. Grrmbb."
"That's it. There's a good girl. Oh, my dear... there, you're safe now... What an idea... just throwing a small doggie out in the street like that. He's so insensitive sometimes, really..."
"Wuff."
"Well...He's a good boy, though. He just has his ways, Aggie, you know.
"Mrgmrmg."
"There... have a biscuit, too... and then, we'll go for a nice, long walk. You're safe with Granny now. Not with those careless, nasty boys upstairs anymore!"
THE END
