Sherlock hummed, glancing away from his microscope for a fraction of a second.
"What is your ferret's name?"
John quickly looked down to the inner right pocket of his jacket. Gladstone was curled into a tight ball, eyes closed though he obviously wasn't sleeping. He hadn't moved since he and Mike had stepped off the lift.
"How di- nevermind. His name is Gladstone." John dipped his fingers into the pocket, rubbing the small creature's forehead gently. Two red eyes peered up at him before he twisted, rolling onto his front and moving to nose at John's belly.
Sherlock hummed again, scribbling in his notepad as he angled his body towards John. He straightened and stared him down for a long moment before pursing his lips lightly, a strange squeak of a sound escaping him. Immediately his trouser pocket started rippling and a small head popped out, nose twitching.
It was a hairless rat, its skin a deep plum, whiskers curled enough to earn the term frizzy. Sherlock reached a hand down to scoop it up and set it on his chest, where it gripped onto his shirt with its back paws and stretched up to lick over the man's chin and nose, forepaws braced on his once again pursed lips.
As soon as it moved away and scurried up to his right shoulder, Sherlock dragged a fingertip down its spine and turned his full attention back towards John.
"This is Victor."
Gladstone started wiggling and crawled out of his pocket before John could even think to answer, making his way up his chest beneath his jacket and twisting around the back of his neck to perch on his left shoulder. He stared intently at Victor, who stopped grinding his teeth to stare back, pushing up and leaning as far forward as he dared.
As one, Sherlock and John held their arms out near the table and the two curious animals dashed down towards it and then each other, sniffing and squeaking.
Sherlock's lips quirked into a smile and John couldn't keep the grin off his face.