Notes: Ugh. The Doc Manager is complete shit, but I'm gonna work with it to keep this up here you guys.

Summary: John wants to have a perfect day, Sherlock rather sleep for once in his life and Mycroft likes to meddle.

John started his day in Sherlock-master's bed. It was just like any regular day after all. He would find his spot on the right side of the bed in his pillow. It was soft and plush, smelling just like him. It was perfect. Most of the time, he would go to bed alone since Sherlock-master was always working on weird human things.

Today was special because his human was in the bed! They had just finished a spectacular case with a client with missing jewels and he had helped. He had thought it was funny that a human thought jumping in the water would make him lose his scent. John noticed that his human would sleep all day after cases but not today. Today John wanted to do something. Maybe they could to the big green place with the other dogs or get a visit from Mycroft-friend. Or even get a visit from his favorite DI.

He just seemed to know the right places to scratch him. That equated enough for an even better day for him. Yawning, John rolled onto his side to stare at Sherlock's sleeping face. He huffed and nosed the man in the cheek to wake him. Sherlock didn't even move. John tried again and licked his cheek to see if that would work. His master only rolled over and took the sheets with him.

Sherlock-master had to get up. He needed to feed him and get some food himself. He was sure that humans were supposed to eat whenever their stomach growled. First things first for his special day. They had to get some food. John rose from his pillow and walked over Sherlock's body until he could reach his face.

Sherlock-master thought he could ignore him by burying his face into the pillow. That only spurred John on. He was just trying to wake his master after all. Waiting until Sherlock rolled onto his back, John pounced on his chest and licked his face with determination. Sherlock woke up sputtering and tried to pull the sheets over his head to stop John. Unfortunately for him, John positioned himself right on top of the sheets. Not even a hand stopped his determined puppy.

"John! Enough! I'm awake. Cease your infernal licking at once." Sherlock said, voice full of sleep as he sat up.

John didn't know what any of those words meant but his master was awake. He wagged his tail as he slid down to Sherlock's lap. He butted him with his head, giving a high whine as a greeting. Sherlock gave him an annoyed look as he placed a hand on John's head and messed with his ears. John leaned into the touch before moving away. He whined and looked towards the door of the bedroom before looking at Sherlock.

Sherlock blinked at John a few times before realizing what he was asking. He yawned as he scooped John into his arms, legs sliding to the floor.

"You are not going to let me go back to sleep, are you?" John shook his head and rested it on Sherlock's shoulder.

Sherlock wondered if it was too late to give John back. He held the pup as he made his way to the living room. Sherlock's plan was to feed John and then he would go back to the room and sleep. John couldn't get through a locked door after all. He placed John on the floor, going the usual routine of John's breakfast. John waited patiently at his bowls as they got filled with food and water.

He was aware of the big picture box getting turned on but he could care less. There was food in front of him!

"I'm going back to sleep, John. Don't wake me up unless a client comes. Bite Mycroft if he does come."

John lifted his head from his food before letting out a huff. That just wouldn't do. He wanted to go outside. He couldn't do anything as Sherlock-master went back to their sleeping place. Fine.

If Mycroft-friend did come (which he was hoping for), he was going to give him lots of attention. He finished his breakfast, found his favorite toy and hopped onto the plush armchair to watch tv.

The morning went and afternoon was just starting to roll around when the doorbell rang. John rolled onto his side at the sound, having been busy playing with thread on one of the pillows. He could hear Ms. Hudson get the door and start talking to someone. He decided to investigate and nosed the front door open to get to the staircase. His wishes came true as Mycroft-friend was starting to make his way up the stairs. John's ears perked up in delight and barked to announce his presence.

Mycroft noticed him and his lips twitched into a tiny smile. John barely waited for him to get his foot on the landing before running around him. Mycroft watched John with a fond look as he hooked his umbrella on his arm. He crouched down to John's level and waited for him to calm down. John finally calmed to a small bounce in his step as he stood in from of Mycroft. Gentle fingers smoothed down the fur on his head and gave him a good scratch on neck.

His tail rapped on the floor in delight from the petting. John leaned back to lick Mycroft on the hand before rushing back into the flat.

"I find it no surprise my brother has left you alone. He is still not used to the idea of being responsible for anything."he said, following John into the flat.

Sherlock did find a way to put John into his life and it was obvious by the state of the flat. It was still in the usual mess of disarray with touches Ms. Hudson attempting to clean some spots. John's toys were strewn about in one corner that hasn't been overrun over by newspapers. Mycroft could say that it was cleaner than usual. The desk wasn't a disaster waiting to happen.

Also, the floor was clear to walk and there was no need to move anything to sit. John could help Sherlock unlike any human could. Besides, Sherlock needed the unconditional love of a pet. Mycroft sat down on the armchair, propping his umbrella on the edge.

"Go fetch your master for me, John. I have some important business to speak with him."

John cocked his head to the side as Mycroft gave the command. He remembered Sherlock telling him to not to wake him if Mycroft-friend came to their home. But the obvious conclusion was that Mycroft-friend came as a client. He would be able to please both brothers. John nodded to himself at his clever thinking and went to get Sherlock.

He made his way to the bedroom door and pushed on it with his paw to open it. Surprisingly, it didn't budge. That wasn't right at all. Sherlock-master never locked the door. He huffed and pushed on the door again. John sniffed at the crack under the door and let out a growl.

How rude! He was locked out the room. He barked and scratched at the door, trying to get it open. No matter how loud he howled or scratched, the door wouldn't open.

John was upset. He didn't do anything wrong earlier and Sherlock-master had seemed to be in a good mood. Just about to give up, John let out a yip of surprise as his paws left the ground. Mycroft held him in one arm and stared at him with a curious look. He then tested the doorknob and realized what all the noise was about.

"Locked you out the room?" John whined and batted the door with a paw. "I see."

Mycroft didn't know what Sherlock had been thinking. He knew that the puppy didn't trust easy. He was going to regret doing such if John's drooping ears had anything to say about. It was high time to teach Sherlock a lesson.

"John, would you like to spend the afternoon in my company? I am sure that Sherlock wouldn't mind at all."

John looked up in surprise and buried his nose into Mycroft's collar. That would show his master who was wrong.

"Sir, I believe your brother will not be too happy with his pet taken."

Somehow, Anthea ended up with John sitting next to her. He wasn't even phased leaving Baker Street. Looking up from her phone, John had his nose in the leather seat. Huffs of air left his nose as he sniffed the seat. Anthea wasn't an animal lover per say but she had to admit that dogs were fine with her. She could tolerate the more intelligent breeds like John.

No doubt dealing with Sherlock Holmes would make John smart indeed. The pup looked to be well behaved. Anthea figured that stemmed from his old training rather than Sherlock.

"Indeed. He locked John out his room. John consented on coming with me." Mycroft said, reaching out to pat John on the head.

John lifted his head and nudged Mycroft's hand with his nose. Mycroft gave him a pat again before turning over to the paperwork in his briefcase. Seeing a dismissal, John turned his attention to the window. He always enjoyed a car ride. It gave him an opportunity to catalog different scents. John crawled over Mycroft's lap and pulled himself onto his hind legs with the door handle.

He pressed his muzzle against the glass, watching the daily movements of everyday life. His tail wagged as careful fingers scratched his back. This was already much better than waiting for Sherlock to wake up.

Sherlock wasn't sure how the day could get worse. The uncalled wake up call by John had him wiping dog spit off his face. Then while going back to bed, he happened to trip over one of John's toys. His knee still twinged from the twisting motion that he had performed to stop himself from falling. But, it didn't stop there.

He managed to burn himself while making coffee and John was nowhere to be found. He was pretty sure he had done nothing to warrant such excessive hiding. Besides, John adored him. The puppy was even more well behaved if he devoted a spare moment for a belly rub. He checked under the sofa one more time to conclude that John was not in his flat.

Neither was he in the building. Sherlock sat in his armchair, trying to think of what could have happened. No, he was not worried. John couldn't have run away. It took him ten minutes to get down the stairs alone. Sherlock had done a series of tests on it as part of his physical therapy.

Ms. Hudson would have said earlier if she had John in her flat. As much as he hated to admit it, he had no idea where to look. As he debated on calling Lestrade for reluctant help, his mobile rang from his dressing gown pocket. Sherlock frowned as he saw the caller id. Mycroft. Of course.

He must have come into his flat and whisked John away. John most likely had gone willingly too, the traitor. John laid at Mycroft's feet every time his brother visited him.

"Give me back my dog, you thief." Sherlock snapped into his mobile as he answered the call.

He could hear the smugness dripping from Mycroft's voice. "Thief? I did no such thing. I asked John to fetch you but you were unavailable. He was so dejected that John agreed to come with me."

"So you dognapped John. He's mine and not yours. You have no right to take him out our flat."

"Dognapped? Really? John is fine with me, seeing as I had him before you in the first place. Right now he's enjoying a rest in my office."

"This is not over Mycroft. I am coming to collect John from your grubby clutches."

"See you soon, brother dear."

Sherlock nearly broke his phone shutting it off. He exchanged his dressing gown for his Belstaff, his mind focused on one thing. He was going to get his dog back.

Mycroft hung up the telephone with a smirk working its way onto his face. It was his own brother's fault. John had quite a lot of fun during his stay at his office. The pup was resting quite comfortably in a corner of his office at the moment. It had been pure luck that Murray sought him out after a session of dog training during the walk back to his office. John had spotted his former owner first, squirming from Anthea's grip.

He rubbed himself on Murray's ankles and lavished the solider's face with licks as he bent down. In all, John had not been with him the entire day. Murray had taken him for most of it.

Apparently, John had been tested on his training and a few hours of physical therapy. That included getting attention from his agents. Agents that would find themselves on Sherlock guard duty for the next few days. Even Anthea hadn't been immune to his charms. She even let him John sit in her lap and get his ears scratched. Sherlock didn't understand that John's breed alone made him quite a social dog.

Well, it wouldn't hurt if Sherlock learned a lesson or two. The smile that faintly appeared on Mycroft's face could be interpreted as villainous. He immersed himself with work in silence, broken every now and then by a heavy sigh from John in his sleep. It was almost like when he had been taking care of John except with a more injured and quite listless puppy. The silence lasted for a short while until broken by none other than Sherlock. His little brother slammed the door open, glaring at him like Mycroft was the one wrong.

The noise startled John out his sleep; the pup yawned and got to his feet. John shook himself a few times, making his fur even fluffier looking than normal. He wagged his tail at Mycroft, stretching forward before noticing Sherlock. The detective was making his way towards him. In a move that would have Mycroft laughing (if he ever laughed), John turned his nose up at his master and moved closer to Mycroft's desk. Sherlock stood dumbfounded at John's behavior and glared at Mycroft.

"What did you do?" Sherlock snapped, walking over and grabbing John off the floor.

"Me? I did nothing. I told you John decided to come with me after you hurt his feelings. " Mycroft said amused as John pushed at Sherlock's face with his paws, squishing the side of his face.

"Please. John woke me with spit even after I told him to stop. He would have been fine if someone hadn't come and stolen him. He was the one who urged me to sleep in the first place!"

Sherlock would never admit that he slept better with John in the bed. He had a feeling that John had figured it out. John continued to push at his face, squirming with all his might with no avail. When the pup realized he wasn't getting free, he reluctantly rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder. It took that moment for the detective to finally get it. John always sniffed at his neck and snuggled into his embrace. Maybe he did hurt John's feelings after all.

What if it hadn't been Mycroft that had taken John? His pup was still handicapped and would been taken. A high pitched whine came from John as he broke out his musings. The weight of John disappeared from his arms, plucked away once again by Mycroft. Biting back a retort, he turned around to face him. It was a mockery of the same position he usually carried John. John kept making whines in his throat, snuffling at Mycroft's tie as he leaned on his chest.

"Give him back."

Mycroft pretended to ignore him, focused on inspecting John's left foreleg. "All you need to do is apologize to your pet, Sherlock."

Sherlock bit back an angry noise and looked at John. The pup was paying more attention to Mycroft. He was too busy trying to lick his brother's fingers. He could see that his injured leg was somewhat swollen from who knows what. What did he do with Mycroft that made him like that? Why in the hell was John so focused on Mycroft?

The answer smacked Sherlock on the back of the head again. Not only did he hurt John's feelings, he also wasn't giving him enough attention. He did have quite a lot to make up for.

"John." He waited until the pup turned his gaze to him. "I apologize for causing you such distress. I promise to pay attention to you more."

John stared at Sherlock for a few seconds before leaning forward towards him. Mycroft released his grip to transfer John to Sherlock's arms. John rested his paws on the detective's shoulders to stare before nudging his cheek. He nuzzled him softly as he rested his head on his shoulder, licking his ear. Sherlock looked down at John, oblivious to the tiny smile on his face. He tightened his grip on John as he made his way to the door.

He left without even a goodbye to his brother. Mycroft stayed standing as he watched Sherlock leaving with John. He figured that Sherlock would figure it out eventually. It might have taken him a little longer to get it but, his brother had never been bright when it came to feelings. Puppies needed attention and social interaction all the time. It was twice that for John with his breed and his previous training.

Still, it was obvious to him that John was changing Sherlock for the better. A smile even so faint on his brother's face was a rarity in itself. If he was in a better mood than usual after dealing with Sherlock, one might say he was looking forward to Sherlock's future.