Oddly enough, the user who inspired this oneshot series asked for a prompt! So here you go ausherlock, for your prompt "Sherlock and John go to the Yard for a case and everyone is trying to figure out who gave Sherlock a pet" (Although I did switch out "Yard" with "crime scene") Hope you enjoy it!

This story was inspired by [look above]'s Little Companion story collection.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Ever. Never ever.

Sergeant Sally Donovan walked briskly down the halls of Scotland Yard. Her gaze dashed to and fro as she tried to locate her coworker. Anderson had to know, he hadn't been there to see. She had to tell him that Sherlock "Not a Psychopath, but a High Functioning Sociopath" Holmes brought a dog to a murder investigation.

It was two days after the Freak brought his mutt to the crime scene at the runners house, and Donovan still wasn't sure what to make of it.

Since when was Holmes actually interested in anything other than dead bodies? Why did he have it? What sane person would have even given him one? She didn't understand!

Sally almost gasped as she caught sight of her target, who was walking to DI Lestrade's office.

He caught sight of her walking towards him, lifted a hand in a wave, "Morning Sergeant, how was the-Hey!"

She grabbed him and pulled him into one of the empty conference rooms down the hallway. Anderson opened his mouth, hising out something about how right now "wasn't really the best time". She rolled her eyes at him.

"Philip, shut it and listen to this..." and, in a shouting whisper, Sally told him about the whole thing. Holmes showing up with a dog, and the chase that led to them catching the murderer.

In the end he burst out laughing.

She brushed her chestnut colored fringe back out of her eyes in irritation, "I'm being serious!"

The man stopped laughing at her tone, "Oh come on. It can't have been his dog. He's psychotic. He shouldn't be allowed near living animals, he probably tortures them for entertainment."

"No look, the dog listened to him. He….he kept it by his side the whole time! He always says he's a sociopath, and then he goes off and buys a dog? How does that make any sense?"

Anderson sneered, "I'm telling you, the dog is probably one of his…experiments. It won't last. But we better get it away from him before he kills it. No, wait. On second thought, let him kill it. We can arrest him for animal cruelty."

Sally slapped his arm hard.

"Ow!"

"That's a horrible idea. We're not going to let him kill that dog!"

"Well don't go off on me about it!"

Donovan sighed and resisted the urge to rub her temples, "Where did he even get it from anyway? Who in their right minds would give him an animal?"

She watched as Phillip just about throw his arms out in a shrug, "Maybe he stole it."

Sally's eyes widened. Of course! How else would the Freak have gotten it?

She grabbed Anderson's sleeve, "Come on."

He stumbled at the unexpected tug on his clothing, "What? Where are we going?"

"To find the real owner of Mr. Holmes' new pet."

XxxxxxSHxxxxxX

"Nope, sorry Sergeant, we havent gotten any inquiries about a dog like that."

Donovan cursed silently, "Are you sure? He's trained well, not quite fully grown yet. Brown markings on his nose, ears, and legs. Nobody's put up a missing pet poster or anything?"

"No, Miss. Nothing like that at all. But I'll keep an ear out for you."

Damn, she thought. She thanked the shelter employee and hung up her office phone. She spied Anderson walking through the door and to her desk. She made an exhasperated movement with her hands, "None of the pounds in London have heard of him. If the mutt was someone elses pet, nobody's missing him."

"Maybe it's just as well. That dog probably attacked someone and the family let him loose so they wouldn't have to put him down," He said as he sipped at his coffee.

She shook her head, remembering how well behaved the dog was, "He seems too well trained to be one of those kinds of dogs."

"Well, fighting dogs are well trained. Doesn't mean one won't try an off you when you pass by it on the street-"

She held up her hand, "Not the point. Obviously he had a previous owner. He's been trained."

Donovan thought back to how the Freak's pet caught the murder suspect the day before.

"Actually...he seemed to have simmilar training to the Yard's dogs."

"So...Holmes stole it from a policeman?"

A head of gray hair suddenly popped up from around the office corner, "Oi! There you are, I've been looking for you. What are you doing?"

DI Lestrade said through the half open door, his hands on his hips. He looked at them sternly.

Sally gave a long suffering sigh, and turned to her boss, "You have to make the Freak get rid of that dog. He's no good for it."

Lestrade raised an eyebrow, "What? You mean John?"

Anderson gave his boss a petulant look, "Is there any other mongrel he has hidden away from us?"

Sally almost scolded Anderson, he seemed not too fond of the idea of Holmes having a dog. Or maybe it was the dog itself. She faintly remembered him saying something about how he preferred cats over dogs, one having bitten him at a young age or something like that.

Lestrade crossed his arms, "John is Sherlock's dog. He got him a few months ago. A mixed breed that a friend gave him apparently-"

Donovan waved a hand at him abruptly, "Wait, you mean you knew he had it? How long has he owned it for?"

Her boss shrugged, "Um...I'm not sure. Two months maybe?"

"And he hadn't killed it yet?" Anderson scoffed.

Lestrade gave a weary sigh and ran a hand over his face, "Look, I know it seems...ususual, but Sherlock-"

He was cut off by his phone going off. Sally watched him answer it, her mouth forming a hard line at her boss' expression. She knew the look on his face. Another murder.

Lestrade rung off and gestured for the two of them to follow, "Come on you two. Anderson gather a team, it's another one of the suicide murders."

Sally grimaced, "That makes four now."

All three of them stood at attention from their spots and started heading down the hall. Or they should have been. Lestrade broke away from the two of them to head towards the front exit instead of the office to gather officers.

Sally turned back, "Where are you going?"

"Four murders Donovan, and now we have a clue. She left a note. I'm going to get him."

"But sir-"

"No buts, we need him and you know it. Head to the scene, close it off and start looking for evidence."

Sally could almost feel the annoyance radiating off of Anderson beside her.

"Tell him to leave his bloody dog at home," he called down the hall, but Lestrade was already gone.

Sally sighed and turned to get everyone ready, "We'll just have to deal with him."

"Bringing a dog to a crime scene...if it comes near me or contaminated evidence, the Freak will be held responsible for what it does."

Sally agreed with him, but silently hoped Sherlock Holmes knew what he was getting himself into.

XxxxxxSHxxxxxX

Once more, Sally Donovan stood at the yellow police tape cooridoring the area. This time when Holmes came up, she took the time to actually look at his dog. The mu-John was in every way, one of the most handsome dogs she'd ever seen, if she was being honest with herself.

His ears perked up as he looked at her. She felt warm when she looked at his big, intelligently blue eyes and fur that could only be described as silky fluff. He strutted next to his owner gracefully, but at the same time in a very predatory way, which off-set the cuddlyness of his appearance. Everything about him screamed "dangerous", but at the same time "hug me I'm adorable". Sally found herself leaning more towards the latter, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She never truly had any reason not to adore dogs. In fact, she considered them very intelligent and extordinary animals.

The sergeant found herself thinking back to how John acted at the last crime scene. She knew she'd seen similar training before in dogs...she'd seen it at the station, on criminal chases.

"Are you just going to stand there gawking at him, or will you let us in?" Holmes snipped at her impatiently.

Donovan met his demeening gaze and straightened, "He shouldn't be here, you know. Only sniffer dogs are allowed at crime scenes. He could be taken from you if you keep it up."

The Freak narrowed his eyes at her, "Try it Sergeant."

Holmes' words, and the ferocity behind them, startled Sally. She didn't defy him as he lifted the yellow tape on his own and strutted towards the building, John following at his side. Holmes paused in his trek and turned to face her with a smirk, "Also, that's no way to treat a police issued military dog is it?"

Donovan tried not to look surprised, but she was sure she failed. No wonder the dog was so good at catching criminals. Not only police, but military as well. The dog was probably a better officer than even she was. She said nothing, knowing Holmes could read it all on her face.

He turned to continue towards the building, "And next time you want to pet him, ask. You've been clenching and unclenching your hands since you caught sight of him."

Sally looked down at her traitorous hands, and crossed her arms. She followed him in at a slower pace. Maybe it was her imagination, but the Freak seemed less condescending that usual. She looked at John, whose tail was wagging lazily as he trotted after his owner, and decided to give Holmes a break from an argument that evening.

Unless he starts one himself, she agreed quietly as she followed them in.

As they got close to the building, Anderson came out, a determined look was set upon his face.

"It's my crime scene, I don't want it contaminated," He looked first at the Freak, and then at John. Sally froze as she saw the dog's hackles prick up slightly at Anderson's attitude.

Holmes smirked, "Don't worry, we'll pick up all the evidence you unsuprisingly missed."

Anderson's wary gaze turned from John to sneer at Holmes, "Freak."

Almost as if he was waiting for Anderson to say the wrong thing, the police dog barked harshly at him just once. The dog gave the forensic scientist a look that Sally clearly read as "Don't insult him".

Anderson jumped at the sound and glared at the dog.

Holmes didn't falter at the dog's behaviour. In fact, Sally thought he looked smug, "Not too fond of canines are we, Anderson? I'd keep my distance. John bites when hes aggitated."

John turned his irritated glare at Holmes and snapped at his leg.

"Oh, shut up John."

The dog stared at him before nipping at the Freak's ankles.

Holmes practically skittered away, "Ok, fine! Stop that. Let's just go look at the body."

And with that, Sherlock Holmes went inside the building.

Anderson watched them go, then looked back at Sally and muttered, "They're not even bloody officers."

He tore his latex gloves off and threw them on the ground, "I swear if they come near me again, I'll treat them both like they deserve."

Sergent Donovan wasn't sure how she felt about that. She could deal with Holmes, John seemed to have a good temperment. She'd give them a pass for tonight since Holmes didn't mention her sex life...again.

Her thoughts went back to the murder victim upstairs. She, just his once, would let Sherlock Holmes and John find the killer with no complaints. The serial suicides were starting to make her nervous.

And Sherlock Holmes will most definitely get something out of the alarmingly pink shade of Jenifer Wilson's wardrobe.