A 221b, inspired by Nanny Ogg. Have fun!
John came home to find Sherlock trying to teach a hedgehog to find its way through a maze mainly consisting of piled up books. The apparent reward was a bunch of grapes at the end.
Before he'd even opened his mouth, Sherlock had already started answering the hundred or so questions John wasn't even sure he wanted an answer to.
'He was messing with Mrs. Hudson's garbage. I'm measuring his intelligence to determine whether he'd make an interesting pet. In case he is, his name's Martin.'
John went for the most obvious of the remaining ninety-eight questions. 'Why Martin?'
Sherlock shrugged, still watching the hedgehog, which by now decided Fuck This and rolled up in a tiny prickly ball. 'He just looks like a Martin.'
Of course he did.
'No, Sherlock,' John said, in a tone of voice he thought he used way too often to a grown man, 'you can't keep wild animals in a flat, not even when you give them names. I'm calling the RSPCA.'
Martin the Hedgehog remained impassive, even when poked with a ruler. Sherlock scowled at it and huffed in annoyance.
'I'm serious, Sherlock. Don't fuck with the hedgehog.'
Sherlock's scowl was redirected and settled on John. 'Spoilsport.'
'I sure am. Now, go and find Martin a box before he starts peeing on my books.'