Sherlock oneshots

Sherlock and John getting a dog

"John, we should get a dog." Sherlock said calmly, without moving from his chair. "A real living one."

"A dog?" John asked confused.

Sherlock sighed and looked up from his book, meeting John's gaze. 

"Yes, that's what I said. Do pay attention."

"I do pay attention. But... erm... a dog?"

Sherlock put his book on the table next to him and jumped up. His long legs disentangling from each other. John often wonders how his knees are holding up after sitting the whole day crammed into that chair. 

"Oh, for God's sake." Sherlock said annoyed, walking over to John's chair and kneeling down in front of him.  "A dog would be beneficial for my health, it's scientifically proven. As a doctor you should know that."

"Since when have you ever cared about your health?" 

"I don't. You do."

John knew well enough that he cared about Sherlock's well-being. Not just his physical health, but also his mental health. It's always quite easy to notice when Sherlock doesn't eat for days, that's when John intervenes and with a lot of trying he usually gets him to eat something. But getting him out of bed during one of his depressive episodes is something else. And John must admit that it is proven that a dog could help with that. 

"Sherlock, why do you want a dog..."

"As I said, the proven health be-"

"No, why now?"

"Ah-"

Sherlock looked up at John. 

"It's... John."

"What?"

"No... you."

"Sherlock, you're doing it again."

Sherlock groans and stands up again, pacing back in forth. 

"I don't want to worry you. Maybe a dog would bring you a sense of comfort." 

John laughed at this. 

"Stop doing that." Sherlock said irritated. 

He kept laughing.

"John."

Still laughing.

"John."

The tone in his voice made John immediately stop laughing. 

"You just want a dog don't you?" 

"NO. As I said- god I'm like a stuck record- it is for you, to give you a sense of comfort."

"Me?"

He stopped pacing and looked at John again, locking eyes. 

"You worry about me too much."

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock."

"Why don't you want a dog?"

John takes a sip from his tea, that was getting cold quite fast. 

"I never said I didn't" he said when he finished drinking, putting the cup back on the table.

"Okay, so let's get a dog. 

Sherlock began walking out the room but not before John got up and grabbed his wrist. 

"We can't just get a dog, can we?"

"Why not?"

"Well, first of all where would you get that dog?"

"Oh, you're not going to like this."

"Like wh-" 

Before John finished he got interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. 

"Oh."

"Yeah." 

He pulled his arm out of John's grip and ran downstairs, John just some steps behind him. 

"Damn those knees" John said in frustration. 

Once John got downstairs he could see Sherlock holding a brown, small dog in his arms. 

"Irish Setter. I'm naming him Redbeard." he said excited. 

"Like the pirate?" 

"Indeed... wanna pet him? He's soft."

John walked closer and carefully pet Redbeard. And to John's surprise, he did feel soft. 

"Soft right?"

John nodded. At that moment Sherlock looked happier than he ever did these last few weeks. And John must admit that it did bring him some sense of comfort.