Promises Series

Promise of Love - I Owe You A Love Song

The title of this chapter is "I Owe You A Love Song" by Shiny Toy Guns

"John's not home yet," Julia announced from the living room. "Is he working the late shift today?"

"He shouldn't be."

"Maybe he's picking up dinner."

"Perhaps," Sherlock replied. He gazed into his microscope thoughtfully, jotting down notes in a composition book, and he only looked up when the front door opened around ten minutes later.

"Sorry I'm late," John greeted. There was a small thud as he dropped something on the floor. "A few of my patients ran longer than expected, and I had to pick up this little thing."

"Oh my god!" Julia exclaimed. "Where did you get him?"

Sherlock craned his neck, trying to see what was exciting his daughter so much. His brows knit together, and his mind started racing. Him?

"She's a girl, actually," John replied. "Picked her up from Mike's. His sister's a breeder, if you can believe it."

The detective stood, walking around a table full of experiments to get to the living room. Julia was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a bundle of red fur in her lap. John was standing by the door, a smug grin on his face. Next to him was a bag full of - Sherlock assumed - supplies for the dog currently licking Julia's face.

"Hello," Julia cooed. "Hello! Sorry I misgendered you."

"John?"

The doctor grinned at Sherlock and shrugged. "Well, I talked to Mrs. Hudson. As long as she doesn't do any permanent damage, she can stay."

Sherlock smiled broadly, walking over to John and planting a quick kiss on his lips.

"You got a dog."

"Yes."

"Why did you do that?"

"Why not?" asked John, pulling Sherlock closer to him. He wrapped his arm around John's waist and gazed down at him. "You two wanted one, and Mrs. Hudson didn't have a problem with it."

Sherlock thought back to their conversation in the waiting room two weeks ago. John had smiled and confided in Sherlock that 'Your daughter wants a dog.' The doctor had gone on to explain how he had tried to let Julia down easily, but it might take a refusal from Sherlock to convince her to let it go.

Refusing to let his disappointment show, Sherlock had nodded silently. However, after months of being together, John could tell when something didn't sit right with the detective. John had gazed at him thoughtfully, gently taking his hand.

"What is it, love?"

"Nothing, John."

"You can tell me."

"I know." Sherlock had sat in silence for a few moments, his eyes roaming around the room. "When I was young, I had a red Irish setter. His name was Redbeard. He was my first mate." He'd looked up then, into John's amused blue eyes. "I wanted to be a pirate," he'd explained. "He died when I was nine."

"Mycroft told me that bit about being a pirate."
"What? When?"

"He came to tell me about Irene's reloca-"

"Oh, the Woman. She's still alive, by the way. Never relocated after all."

"She's what?"

"Not important, John."

Julia's laugh cut through Sherlock's reverie. He watched the small animal clamber over her lap, nearly topple over twice, and finally settle between her legs. The grin that spread across Julia's face made Sherlock's heart swell.