Johnlock Oneshots (fluff)

17) Puppy

Word count: 973
*John's POV*

Sherlock and Mycroft sometimes spoke of Sherlock's childhood dog, a red setter called Redbeard. Him and Sherlock were best friends; inseparable, Mycroft stated often. Although Redbeard was usually mentioned by his brother when Sherlock was showing a lot of sentiment, I knew that my boyfriend still missed his old dog and respected him. He would often analyse dogs on the Internet in his spare time. I think they were one of his special interests, along with different science subjects and deduction. And bees. He likes bees a lot.

I had also loved dogs for a long time. I was never allowed one as a child as Harry was allergic, and our father wouldn't let us anyway. But now Sherlock and I lived together in our flat, and nobody could stop us from getting our dog. It was approaching Christmas, and I knew of a friend who's dog, also a red setter, had just had a litter of puppies. I took Mrs Hudson to see them with me, and she immediately agreed to having a dog in the house. The puppies would be ready to leave their mother the day before Christmas day, so it wasn't really a present. I know you're not supposed to get pets around Christmas or birthdays, or as a gift at all, but this was different. I knew we wouldn't get bored of it or anything.

Christmas day rolled around, and Sherlock stood by the window of our flat playing songs on his violin, us all watching. By "us", I mean me, Mrs Hudson, Molly, Greg, and even Mycroft, who was somehow convinced to show up by the DI. We applauded my boyfriend when he ended Jingle Bells. And by "we" I mean everyone apart from Mycroft.

"Sherlock, love, open this," I started, pulling a neatly wrapped box out from under the desk. "And don't try to guess what it is." He glared at me slightly at the last bit, but tore off the paper, our guests watching curiously. And again, by that I mean all of our guests save Mycroft, who had already guessed the contents of the box somehow. Sherlock handed me the paper and opened the flaps of the box.

"A dog bed? Why did you gift me a dog bed?" Sherlock looked up at me, confused. I smirked and rushed downstairs, knowing that he and everyone else had already guessed the surprise but getting it anyway. I opened the door for Mrs Hudson's room carefully, and scooped up the tiny red setter puppy into my arms. I had kept her in there as to block out her yaps from our flat upstairs. It had only been for one night anyway, and Mrs Hudson was more than happy to look after her for then. She licked my nose fondly as I treaded back upstairs, and I couldn't stop the grin from stretching across my face.

.

*Mycroft's POV*

Dr.Watson entered through the doorway to his and Sherlock's flat again, a small pile of redish-brown fluff wriggling in his arms. I recognised it immediately as a small puppy, a red setter like my brother's childhood dog. Sherlock stood up as soon as he realised what it was too, rushing over excitedly to his boyfriend, returning the wide smile that was plastered on his lips. He scooped the dog up into his arms and, on seeing properly what the wriggling thing was, the rest of the guests gasps and "aww"s were echoed around the room. Gregory, who was sitting on the floor resting against my leg, nudged me and I smiled at the three reluctantly. Sherlock would know it was forced but it was the thought that counted.

"What's their name?" Mrs Hudson cooed, and the puppy scampered around the floor, tripping over its own fluffy paws every so often, much to everyone's amusement. Sherlock answered without taking his gaze from the small dog.

"Otter."

"Otter?" I asked.

"Yes, Otter. Problem?" My little brother scowled at me. John reached his hand over to grip his in a comforting warning to be nice.

"Hmm. Just expected you to choose something like..." I let myself trail off.

"What, Mycroft?"

"I don't know... Redbeard?" I smirked. The other guests looked up at me questioningly, apart from Gregory, who held onto my hand in the same warningly way that John did with Sherlock. My brother's previous smile turned into a downcast expression as his eyes glued to the floor, and his boyfriend glared at me.

"Who's Redbeard, dears?" Mrs Hudson asked, scratching behind Otter's ears.

"My childhood dog. A red setter, too. He... died. Drowned."

"Mycroft's trying to bring up Redbeard to torment Sherlock," John said, his eyes not leaving my face as he sent daggers in my direction. Otter scampered over to where Gregory and I sat, jumping up to place her two front paws on my legs. I hesitated. Gregory picked her up and moved to sit on the arm of the chair I was on, then putting the dog in my lap and holding one of my hands encouragingly. Otter looked up at me in her quite... adorable puppy fashion, and yapped. It was high-pitched and friendly; I reached out my hand and stroked her, feeling her soft redish brown fur curl around my fingers. I glanced up at Dr. Watson and Sherlock, who were staring at me, slightly confused yet still cold expressions on their faces.

"I apologise," I hesitated, still petting the puppy along with Gregory too now. "I didn't think about what I was saying." It wasn't quite true and I didn't really care, but it would get rid of the awkward tension I had created. Otter jumped down from my lap and bounded over to my brother's chair, pausing on the way for a quick ear scratch from Molly.