There's A Dog In This One (Part 3)

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: That really is a prosaic chapter title, isn't it? All of them are, tbh lol. I'll change it if I think of a better one.


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Arriving back at the flat was like slipping into clothes that had been warming on a radiator. The faint smell of pine hadn't left the furniture since Christmas, that sweet tang hanging in the air along with a pleasing heat from the now gently smoldering fire.

Twenty minutes later, Y/N had showered and slipped into bed, surrounding herself with thick blankets and pillows. Basil had followed close at her heels dutifully, and now stood by the bed, placing his head on it as a way of seeking permission, staring up at Y/N with those large begging doggy eyes. Not that it was necessary; Y/N, without hesitation, gave the duvet a pat, inviting him onto the mattress, and his tail wagged appreciatively as he hauled himself up with surprising agility.

Propped against the headboard, Y/N settled in with the intent of watching a film, her hand moving absently over Basil's temple, his long, butterscotch coloured body draped leisurely along the length of her outstretched legs. Despite the lingering thought that her bed will be coated in fur, the company was appreciated.

The movie hadn't been playing long, given the inordinate amount of time that had been required to find one Y/N felt like watching in the first place. And films always have those insanely lengthy credit scenes before the actual feature. By the time anything actually happened, Basil had dozed off and was already fully submerged in what appeared to be a rather vivid dream, the occasional, sleep-riddled bark beginning in his lungs then dying in his throat. He's imagining he's chasing something, Y/N guessed, because his legs would twitch every now and again, muscles feathering in his snout, nose hurriedly sniffing at nothing.

His ears flicked as if bothered by a fly when there was a tentative knock at the bedroom door.

"Y/N?" Sherlock called through the wood, a chink of warm light slicing the room in half as he opened the door a fraction so he could hear her reply.

"You can come in, it's fine," Y/N gave him a genial smile as he entered and made a beeline to the bed to pet Basil, who'd woken up now and rolled himself over to expose his tummy. This now seemed to be his typical greeting saved exclusively for Sherlock. Maybe because Basil sees him as entirely trust-worthy. Or maybe he's is just really good at tummy rubs.

The dog's tail had quickly begun beating the duvet and he grinned lopsidedly up at Sherlock as he approached, hopefully anticipating some more attention. Sherlock gave him what he wanted, saying as he did so:

"I was going to ask if Basil wanted to come and sleep in my room, but he looks more than happy here."

Y/N giggled and Sherlock furrowed his brows at her, unable to help his own lips tug up at the corners.

"What?"

Waving a hand dismissively, Y/N flushed a little at her childishness. And at the fact that Sherlock is in her bedroom. She began helping Sherlock stroke Basil's exposed belly as he rolled onto his back for them to do so. "Basil is such a human name it sounded like you were asking a man we---for some reason shared---to your bedroom."

Sherlock laughed and Y/N was sure she'd lit up like a Christmas tree. 

"No, I wouldn't ask a Basil to my room. A Basilinna maybe. Is that a name?'"

"Maybe somewhere." 

Although Sherlock was currently petting Basil with affection, Y/N had noticed his face soften into a slightly disappointed frown when he'd realised he'd be spending the evening alone. It twisted her heart a little, as if guilt was trying to wring it out. She said quickly: "Basil is happy here, but you can join us if you want."

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