So much for out before Sunday…
Eventually Sherlock got around to solving cases again. Molly came with him and helped, but it wasn't the same as John. The cases weren't as exciting anymore, they were just another job to finish, another murderer to catch.
Sherlock and Molly walked into a busy vet's office. Various drugs were being from the office's stores, starting about a month ago. It had gotten so out of hand that they had had to call in Sherlock. He looked at Molly and nodded. She went up to the front desk as Sherlock walked around examining the lobby.
There were four people sitting in the room: an elderly man with a large St. Bernard, a woman in her mid-thirties holding a grey cat, a mother and her son with a parrot, and a young girl with two dogs. One was large and black with curly hair, and the other was smaller with straight blonde fur. Sherlock paused and stared at the dogs for a moment. He walked over to the owner.
"Hello," he said. "May I pet your dogs?"
"Oh sure!" The girl said. Sherlock knelt down and stroked the two dogs. The girl watched him closely.
"My name's Ellen." She said.
"The name's Sherlock." He said, not looking up from the dogs.
Ellen was quiet for a moment. "What kind of dog did you have?" She asked. Sherlock looked up.
"Irish Setter." He replied. "How did you know?"
"The way you treat the dogs. You're sad, but you still remember everything about them." Sherlock smiled a little.
"You're smart." Was all he replied as he rubbed behind the black dog's ear.
"You're alone." Ellen replied.
"What do you mean by that?"
"You lost a friend. A good one. I can see it in your eyes." She said softly. Sherlock looked down at the little blonde dog, who was happily licking his hand. At that moment Molly walked over.
"Alright I told them you were here, she said you can come in the back when you're ready." Molly said. Sherlock stood up.
"Thank you." He said to Ellen. "I live at 221B Baker Street, you should come over sometime."
Ellen smiled. "I will."
"Well that was incredibly easy." Sherlock said. The pair were walking out of the office, having solved the case in less than an hour. It turned out that one of their most trusted employees was taking the drugs for themselves.
"Yes it was." Molly replied. "So, are we going back to the flat?" Sherlock didn't hear her. He stopped abruptly and looked across the street past the cars. There was a short man standing there, wearing a black jacket.
It was John.