AN: Well, I just had to continue. After one of my reviewers of His Last Vowel, stardiva, asked for more and said that I should put Henry Knight in it, the plot bunnies struck again and I wrote this. Sorry that it took so long. I had a bit of writers block. The plot bunnies still attacked me, but I couldn't do anything about it. I am planning on doing more of these "Sherlock's Grammar School" stories, so keep an eye out! Enjoy!
AN2: Also, this is my first ever fic that is over 1,000 words! Only 40 words over, but still! 1,000! Aren't you all happy? I know I am…
Disclaimer: Of course I own Sherlock. I would obviously leave my viewers on a massive cliff-hanger and then not air the next season until two years later…NOT. I leave that up to the very capable hands of Moffat, Gatiss, BBC, and whoever else owns Sherlock.
The Hound at Basker School
It was a peaceful, sunny afternoon at Basker School. The kids were happily playing on the playground during recess, and Sherlock Holmes was relaxing. As with every other time Sherlock allowed himself to relax, the peace was shattered. This time it was shattered by a scream from the newest kindergarten student, Henry Knight.
"A hound!"
Sherlock startled and sat up so fast from where he was cataloguing the properties of the gum from the underside of his desk, that he hit his head. "Ow!" he muttered.
Sherlock rushed outside, rubbing his head, to where the kindergarteners were crowded around a big black dog. Henry was being comforted by his best friend, John Watson, because the dog had apparently been too enthusiastic in its greeting, and had knocked him over.
Sherlock took a deep breath and asked, "Will someone please explain to me why, exactly, Mr. Knight is on the ground?"
The children looked at each other and John said, "The dog pushed him over!" Anderson fidgeted like he was about to bolt. Sherlock glared at him and he reluctantly settled down. Sherlock attempted to shoo the dog away, but it just looked at him as if scolding him. Shocked, Sherlock stared at the dog for a moment. Then, Sally Donovan pushed her way to the front of the crowd and proclaimed, "Her name is Mrs. Hudson."
"What?" Sherlock asked.
"I said, 'her name is Mrs. Hudson.'"
"Is she your dog?"
"No, but we're keeping her, right?"
"Absolutely not."
All of the kids (except for Henry and Anderson) clamored around Sherlock, protesting his decision and begging for him to change his mind. The newly dubbed Mrs. Hudson turned her mournful gaze on him.
Sherlock twitched.
Mrs. Hudson stared.
Sherlock looked away from the begging dog, and looked instead at the children. This was a mistake, as all the kids (except for Henry and Anderson) were begging right along with the dog.
Sherlock turned back to the dog and jumped when he noticed that it was much closer than it was before. He sighed and relented, "Fine, we can keep the dog. For now. I don't think that your parents would want you associating yourselves with such a dirty creature."
Mrs. Hudson growled at Sherlock.
Sherlock took a step backwards and corrected himself, "I mean, such a lovely dog."
The kids cheered and swarmed the "lovely dog".
Sherlock grumbled and looked at the time. Recess is over. What do I do? The kids were playing happily with their newfound friend, and Sherlock wasn't looking forward to them complaining when he told them that they had to go back inside and leave the dog outside.
Feeling a tug on his sleeve, Sherlock looked down. Henry Knight looked up at him and said, "I don't like the dog. Please get rid of it." Sherlock was even more confused. What should he do? These little brats were making his life really hard.
He took a deep breath.
Mrs. Hudson looked at him.
He deflated.
If a dog could look smug, Mrs. Hudson certainly did.
Attempting to regain control over his class, Sherlock said loudly, "Recess over. In now."
With many awww's from the kids and firmness from Sherlock, class was eventually started again, although not until it was already thirty minutes late, putting Sherlock in a horrible mood. A horrible mood that was only made worse when he found that little Sally had snuck the dog inside.
"No! No dog inside!"
Mrs. Hudson growled again, sitting firmly down on the rug next to Henry. Henry was terrified. Sherlock was annoyed and he twitched, barely refraining from strangling the dog and/or the children who were smirking at him.
Taking another deep breath (and definitely NOT looking at the dog), Sherlock said, "I'm sorry, but the school does not allow animals in the building." (He wasn't really sorry, but the small brats didn't need to know that.)
Sally protested, "But Ms. Adler has Kate!" (Kate was the math teacher's lizard.)
Taking a moment to calm himself down, Sherlock closed his eyes. Why were kids so troublesome? And how did that annoying, flirtatious woman succeed in ruining his day without even being in the room?
He attempted to smile, but it came out as a grimace. "Let me rephrase that. The school does not allow large, furry animals in the building."
"Why?"
"Because they shed, and some people are allergic to fur."
What does allergic mean?" (This was James Moriarty, making Sherlock explain things that he really didn't want to.)
"Allergic means that someone has an allergy to a substance."
"And what's an allergy?" (Jim again.)
"An allergy is a damaging immune response by the body to a substance, especially a particular food, pollen, fur, or dust, to which it has become hypersensitive."
At this, Anderson looked like he might run out of the room again. Jim looked like he was going to ask another questions, thus making Sherlock explain something else that he had known since he was a toddler. Sherlock glanced at the clock again, relieved to find that that class was over.
He clapped his hands together and said with false cheer, "Alright, everyone, class over. Go away."
But Sally piped up once again, "What about Mrs. Hudson?"
"What about her?"
"Where will she go?"
"Away! Out of the building! I don't care, just away from my classroom!"
"But she'll die out there, all alone!"
"Then take her to your house!"
"But my mom is allergic to dogs! Can't you take her?"
"…What?"
All the kindergarteners exchanged looks and seemed to decide that this was the best option.
Severely outnumbered, Sherlock was saddled with a dog that he didn't even want and that his landlord, former-policeman Greg Lestrade, would throw a fit over.
He was definitely developing a headache.
And he had been right. Geoff (or whatever his name was) did not like Mrs. Hudson, and attempted to throw her out. But then she looked at him with sad, soulful eyes, and he relented, eventually becoming very fond of her and her incredible ability to open doors. Sherlock (although he would never admit it) came to enjoy Mrs. Hudson's company. He even let her sleep on the couch when he wasn't in his Mind Palace.
