Work Text:
John was on the sofa, Gladstone glued to his side. He was felling rough after falling over and hitting his head while he was trying to get out of bed. Concussions were not as easy as they used to be to get over. He got up off the couch slowly, moving Gladstone to the side so he could make a cup of tea. Gladstone yawned, he was bored.
Sherlock had just got back from a case and had gone straight into the bathroom for a shower. John looked at the muddy footprints on the floor and decided Sherlock could clean up the mess himself. The kettle boiled and he poured the hot water over his tea bag in his favourite mug. No messing about with a tea pot and china, John liked his tea ‘hard core’ with a minute dash of milk. ‘Lovely’ he thought to himself as he sat down in his chair with his steaming mug of tea. Sherlock padded out of the bathroom wearing a small white towel round his waist, and sat down in the chair opposite. John sipped his tea.
“Bored.” Sherlock grunted. John closed his eyes.
“I really haven’t got the energy for this today Sherlock.” Gladstone jumped off the sofa, walked over and started to sniff Sherlock’s leg. Sherlock started to giggle, something John didn’t know he was capable of. Gladstone was licking Sherlock’s wet leg.
“Gladstone, stop licking uncle Sherlock, you don’t know where he’s been.” John smirked. Sherlock picked Gladstone up and tickled his little pink tummy.
“Uncle Sherlock?” Sherlock enquired with a quirky grin. John blushed, he hadn’t called Sherlock that in front of him before.
“I’m his dad so you’re his honoury uncle.” Gladstone wagged his tail in response. Sherlock raised a questioning eyebrow. Before Sherlock could ask his next logical question, which may possibly involve him telling John he was ‘married to his work’ John had an epiphany. “I tell you what, why don’t you take him for his first proper walk in the park. I could do with a bit of peace and quiet for an hour.” If Sherlock had a tail it would have been wagging in perfect harmony with Gladstone’s.
“If you insist.” John noticed Sherlock made his way to his bedroom to get changed rather quickly. He sunk down into his armchair and took a big gulp of hot tea.
“Lovely.” John said to himself.
It was so exiting, his body wouldn’t stay still. His tail wagged from side to side, and uncle Sherlock had to hold him still to put on the lead. He was going for his first proper walk. He’d been on grass before at some big garden in the country. It was where Mycroft and Sherlock lived when they were little and he was the only dog ever allowed in the gardens. They walked out the door and Gladstone heaved ahead on his lead. Sherlock pulled the lead across himself to shorten the lead.
“Heel, Gladstone.” Sherlock commanded. Gladstone pulled again, he really needed to show uncle Sherlock the bit of chewing gum he’d just found. Maybe he shouldn’t pull, but outside was so much fun and there were new smells and things to look at. They made their way up Baker Street. The floor was a bit hard on his paws, but it was so much fun he didn’t care. A big crowd of people walked past them and he got turned around he ran along with them for a little bit. He wasn’t feeling the pull of his collar anymore, actually he couldn’t even feel his collar. He looked up to see where uncle Sherlock was. But he was gone nowhere to be seen. Gladstone was alone and lost.
Sherlock was panicking. He’d felt Gladstone slip his lead, spotted him and run after him. Gladstone was amazingly quick for a little puppy and somewhere along the way he’d lost him. He’d pushed people out of the way darted about like a loon screaming.
“Gladstone! Gladstone!” He stopped for a moment and tried to think like a dog. What would Gladstone do? He ran off in the opposite direction grunting as people watched aghast, wondering where his keeper was.
Gladstone was backed into the corner of an alley. A rather large menacing cat in front of him, claws out and furious. He’d only tried to say hello and see if it wanted to play for a bit. Apparently sniffing a cat’s behind was a bit not good. He closed his eyes. The cat was just about to eat him when a baritone voice boomed.
“Shoo!” Gladstone opened his eyes. There he was, his uncle Sherlock. The cat scrambled away quickly as Sherlock looked down at the frightened dishevelled puppy. Sherlock had a look of utter relief on his face.
“Come on Gladstone, come to uncle Sherlock.” Sherlock bent down as Gladstone barrelled into his arms. Sherlock smiled as Gladstone tried to lick his face. He put Gladstone’s collar back on and tightened it slightly, and slipped him under his coat, he was not letting go of his precious puppy until he was properly secured. Still carrying Gladstone he walked back into the street and hailed a taxi.
John had drifted off in his chair while reading the paper. He heard the door slam and woke up with a start. There was a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth, he wiped it off with his sleeve. That was a good nap. He looked at the clock, it was late. Sherlock had been out with Gladstone for 3 hours. Gladstone came trotting up in a blue padded puppy harness, with reflective strips, flashing LED light and some sort of padlock on. ‘That was new’ John thought to himself.
“Been shopping Sherlock?” John asked as he watched Sherlock drag several large bags marked Pets at Home into the living room.