"John!"
"..."
"Joooohn!"
"..."
"JohnJohnJohnJohn-!"
"Alright alright, I'm coming. What is it?" The ex-doctor came into the living room, where the detective was awaiting him anxiously, and the little dog was sitting on the sofa, watching him intently.
"Check this out." He turned to John. "Ask him who a smart dog is."
John sighed, shaking his head. He had a feeling where this is going. He went over to the dog, just to please his flatmate.
"Who is a smart dog?"
The dog on the couch lifted his front paw up high, like a student that knows the answer, wavering a little.
"Brilliant, isnt it? I have got to teach him to point to Anderson every time someone calls him an incompetent being at his job." Sherlock said gleeful.
"You mean, every time you call him an idiot." John pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Thats what I said, isnt it? Well. We have to get to a crime scene so he can learn this." Sherlock said, grinning. He went over to put on his belstaff, when John realized that he was serious.
"You are not taking the dog to a crime scene!"
It turned out that for one, they were already asked to come to a crime scene before Sherlock made John watch the trick hes taught his new dog, and for two, if Sherlock wants something, it happens, wether everyone else is alright with it is another song completely.
Well, it's not exactly that they noticed it at first, but when Sherlocks chest suddenly growled and barked when Anderson made a stupid remark, which caused a round of arguments - or rather a banter of "idiot" and "freak", which at some point ended with them pushing each other...
It was all rather a blur.
"You had him under your bloody coat, just to bring him to a crime scene, which is nothing for a small dog as him, mind!" John was yelling at him.
"You should know that it breaks a dogs heart if you leave them alone at home while you go out for hours enjoying yourself." Sherlock argued.
"Mrs Hudson is at home! She could spoil him for all we know, and yet you are so reckless about this! What if someone tripped over him, or he runs off and got hit by a car, or worse - a serial killer-..."
"John, please don't underestimate him. He has 26 times the brain cells that Anderson uses."
John's eye twitched.
"HE IS. A DOG! " He yelled, once again, at the detective, who already had the dog securely hidden under his trusty long black coat.
"If you say so."
And that was that.
#
John didn't know what he was seeing, but he knew for sure that nowadays nothing about his best friend could surprise him anymore.
It felt like he was watching Dr. Doolittle.
"I know, I know, you want to lay on my lap right now, but John said I have to sit at the kitchen table and eat ." He said the last word like it was a curse word.
"Yes I know! Go complaining to John, not me!"
John watched the dog, as it first kept staring at Sherlock, and then turned to him with the most adorable puppy face.
John sighed. "I said he isnt allowed in the kitchen. What if one of your experiments explodes again?"
"Tell that to him, not me! And all my experiments are safely contained." Sherlock complained.
"Yeah well that sure is calming, because those eyeballs-"
Sherlock put his face into his hands. "Oh don't start with the eyeballs again. I already apologized and bought you a new microwave!"
Suddenly the dog on the floor between them barked, and all eyes went to him.
"Oh FINE! Come here!" Sherlock said, slapping his hand on his lap a few times to invite him.
The dog didnt waste a second and ran over to his chair and jumped on his lap.
"Well, I guess Ill just have to eat it here, after all." Sherlock said, smirking and fondling the silky fur.
John had nothing more to say to that, since the detective did in fact eat.
#
The one thing they were in a disagreement about was dog traits.
Sherlock insisted on training him without them, since they dont bond the dog with the owner, but with the want for food.
Sherlock was currently in the bathtub - he dislikes showers - and so John and the dog (who Sherlock refuses to call by its name) were alone in the living room.
John was sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper in his armchair, when the small dog jumped on the couch, sat down near his side, and started whimpering.
John lowered the newspaper for a second - which turned out to be a second too long - and when he saw those big, pleading eyes, he just... melted.
He quickly looked around, making sure that Sherlock wouldnt come out within the next few minutes, and quietly got up and went over to a cabinet where he kept the dog treats. The dog was following him.
"But just one." John said, and gave him one.
One turned into two, three... somewhere around fifteen before he snapped back to reality, because he heard the tell-tale water splashing of Sherlock getting out. John quickly put the treat pack back, went ninja-mode (because he swore that Sherlock could hear just as much as a dog) back to his chair, picked his papers back up and pretended that he never got up.
The dog resumed his previous position, nagging John again.
Five minutes later the bathroom door opened and Sherlock came out, still ruffling his hair with a towel but otherwise already dressed.
"Fascinating." He suddenly said.
John looked up from his papers. "What is?"
"Your obvious inability to resist a dogs pleading eyes. Also: how many times do I have to tell you to stop giving him treats?! He already gained a pound because Mrs Hudson is just as bad!"
John gave him an apologetic look.
"Well, go make up for it. Take him for a two hour run or something." Sherlock said, throwing the leash at him.
John stammered for a second. "Are you going to join us? You normally don't let anyone else touch him for more than two minutes."
Sherlock sank down in his own chair with a sigh. "No.. the little ferret face wont leave me alone all day, and my chest has been kind of tight since last night. I dont think going for a run in this biting cold air is going to do me any good."
John nodded in understanding, and couldn't help thinking a quick thanks to the dog, because since they had him in their life, Sherlock has become more responsible about his health. Even if he still won't use his inhalers unless its absolutely necessary.
"Well, see you later then." John said, grabbing a small dog-sweater, dressed the dog and connected the leash to his vest.
Sherlock was already busy on his phone and only waved his hand dismissively.