The Rug
Sherlock Holmes was becoming accustomed to waking up somewhere in the Adler home. Once the full moon waned, he often found himself covered in mud, sometimes scratched or bleeding, and inevitably famished, usually somewhere in Irene's home. It was not an intentional habit, but the wolf, the damnable wolf that hid in his veins all but the days around the full moon, it liked Ms. Adler more than he cared to admit.
When memories of his lost lupine time returned to him, they were often perched on a fine line between satisfying and embarrassing. He usually tracked down some of Moriarty's web, but he also usually found himself belly-up and whimpering at the hands of Ms. Adler. Despite the fact that he was the wolf, he was the teeth and claws and steel which rose and fell with the moon, she still managed to stand over him, to worm herself into his lupine brain, and irritatingly, she was Alpha.
"You ruined the rug in the sitting room."
The tiles were cold against his skin and he was naked—wolves didn't wear clothes after all—but there she was standing over him in heels and a sheath dress of midnight blue silk.
"May I remind you that I told you the rug was in danger of ruin before the moon was full and you ignored me?"
He opened the fridge and pulled out the remnants of a perfectly-seasoned leg of lamb, taking a bite of it as Irene frowned at him.
"That was going to be dinner tomorrow evening."
"And now it won't."
"You could eat during the full moon, you know. I have been very generous in making sure the wolf has something to eat."
"It's easier to not do so whenever possible. Never know if I'll be shot for raiding a house."
"The rug cost several hundred pounds."
"So purchase a new one."
He resumed ignoring her in favor of the fridge, which he pulled a covered dish of some kind of stew out of, dipping his finger in to taste it.
"Mr. Holmes," her voice came sharp as a whipcrack and the wolf still subsiding in his veins perked its ears at the sound of an alpha. He couldn't help it—he turned his head expectantly.
"I have a client in an hour and I need you to be fed, cleaned, and gone by then."
He would usually tell her casually to dismiss them, but the wolf was still strong, still settling down for a month of slumber and it heeded the alpha, despite his human brain's desire to ignore her completely.
"You should know better than to schedule around the full moon."
"You will be gone in half an hour."
He struggled with the wolf for a moment, the animal that wanted to expose its belly and assert its subservience to the alpha, before nodding shortly, his mouth full of lamb.
"I'll be back this afternoon. There are a few things I need to catch up on with the homeless network."
She allowed him to salvage his pride as her heels clicked out of the kitchen, a warm sizzle running up her spine. He clearly did not remember the wolf's need over the previous days, its whining and presenting itself, asking to mate. He would soon enough and when he did, he would be purchasing a new sitting room rug.