Sherlock Puppy

Part 4

by Cyberwolf (wolf at

All disclaimers and stuff found in part I.

AN: Lestrade may be a little OOC; but since there's nothing in the show to contradict it, I've made her into a dog-lover. ^_^

The story is sort of based on a dog-lover friend of mine who really did all the things Lestrade does with 'Seeker'...well, he _did_ when his dog was a puppy. He's had to give up some of that ever since Rex grew up....

Right-o! Onwards!

Chapter IV: Bath and Dinner

They got caught in a small rain shower before reaching Lestrade’s flat. (they’d had to walk -- Holmes, rather Seeker, wasn’t allowed onto the Tube until Lestrade could prove to the Board of Domesticated Animals that her new pet dog was fully trained) Not a severe one, but enough that Lestrade’s outfit was soaked through and Holmes’ fur was wet -- and he had splashed in a couple of puddles.

The two dripping detectives (one a dog) entered Lestrade’s flat. Lestrade plopped her purchases down onto her floor (the packaging’s waterproof properties ensured a lack of damage) and picked up her new pet. "You, my friend, are filthy," she informed her dog, holding the small animal up so that their noses touched. "Bath-time."

Having no tub dedicated to dogs, Lestrade decided to use her own bathtub for the time being. She began to run the water into the tub, pouring a little bubble-bath into the tub as well. (She had no pet shampoo, either.) She set Holmes down on top of the sink, and he sat and watched as the tub filled. The sound of a zipper being undone caught his attention, and he quickly swiveled his head to see Lestrade starting to...oh, please, no...undress.

He gaped for a single, horrified instant, unwilling to believe that, on top of everything else, God would place him into this awkward mess of a situation. When she took off her body-armor and was starting on top of the bodysuit, Holmes lay down and folded his large front paws over his eyes, shutting out all sight. What else could happen? And how was he going to explain all of this to Lestrade when he was returned to his original body?

A chill went through the detective-turned-puppy. If he returned to his original body.

Lestrade finished stripping, as usual leaving her ioniser on top of the bathroom counter. She dipped her hand in the white frothy bath -- perfect temperature! She turned, to see her new pet huddled on top of the sink where she’d left him, paws over eyes.

"Well, a polite puppy," she laughed, although she knew very well that Seeker had probably just fallen asleep. "Sorry, Seek, no bedtime before bath!" she told the pup, picking him up and stepping into the tub.

The puppy opened its eyes as it was immersed in warm bathwater, yelping a bit at the sudden shock. Lestrade laughed and, since the water-level was too high for the little dog, balanced Seeker on her knees as she soaped him (and herself) up.

Seeker wiggled as she poured a little dollop of shampoo onto her hands and began to work up a lather on his smooth golden fur. He wiggled so much, in fact, that Lestrade lost her hold on him and he fell off her knees into the bathtub. She fished him out of the water, laughing at her puppy’s sputtering and at the way every inch of him streamed bathwater. She set him back atop her knees, keeping one hand firmly on him to prevent any more falls.

And when he was clean, and she was clean, she turned on the shower and let the artificial rain rinse them off. She had drained the tub first, so that she and Seeker could stand in the tub, under the shower. She laughed when she looked down, and realized that her puppy was enthralled by the shiny silvery tap set into the tub; he kept staring straight ahead, unblinkingly, at it.

She set Seeker down on the floor outside the bathtub, watching with amusement as he vigorously shook himself dry. She toweled herself dry, and wrapped in another towel, gave Seeker a brisk rubdown.

Holmes lay on his belly in the middle of Lestrade’s bedroom, staring miserably at nothing. His new, more sensitive canine nose easily caught the scent on himself -- a mild sort of fruity scent; Lestrade’s shampoo, a scent he had become familiar with long before but certainly never thought to smell on himself. And that bath! Well, if he could get back to his original body, but Lestrade found out exactly where he’d been, (he was hoping that he’d be able to avoid that) at least he could say with all honesty that he had most certainly not (if he’d been human, he just knew the tips of his ears would be turning red, along with most of his face) taken, ahem, advantage of the situation. He had not looked when she was undressing, and in the bath the layer of bubbles had hidden everything from the shoulders down. Of course there was that moment when she began to drain the tub, but he had locked his eyes on a random spot of the tub and had not looked up; the worst he’d seen was her ankles. Good thing he wasn’t a larger dog.

Suddenly, Holmes felt a pressure behind his upright ears. It felt...nice. Pleasurable, in that warm, hot-cocoa-and-marshmallows, down-stuffed pillows kind of way. He couldn’t stop his tail from wagging as he felt Lestrade scratch the back of his ears. He heard her chuckle as he was pushed over to expose his belly, and she rubbed it with her other hand. It was very undignified, and a little alarming because of the sheer helplessness of the position -- but he couldn’t stop his tail from wagging even more.

Lestrade chuckled again, and with a final scratch, stood up. Holmes got to his feet (all four of them) as well. "C’mon, boy, time for dinner."

He padded after her, tongue unconsciously hanging out as the scent of something really good to eat drifted into his nose. When Lestrade sat down at her chair, he sat down beside her, gazing with rather more than mild distaste at the bowl of kibble that was supposed to be his supper. He sniffed at it, then turned his head away disdainfully.

"Just my luck," Lestrade remarked to herself, rolling her eyes, "a picky eater. C’mon boy, it’s good for you -- you don’t really want to be that small all your life, do you?"

Holmes gave her an annoyed look.

Lestrade thought Seeker was really a very intelligent puppy; it was like he understood her words. She knew that some dogs could infer a lot from the mere tone of their owner’s voice; she guessed this one was really good at it.

"Smart puppy," she said, laughing, and scratched his ears again. Involuntarily, Holmes’ tail began to wag again.

"Wonder what Holmes would make of you?" she wondered idly. Gazing into space as she was, she missed how her puppy’s startled expression flickered across his face. "And..." she laughed, looking down again at her puppy. "I wonder what you would make of Holmes."

On to Part 5!

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