ANNOUCEMENT: So, yeah, you're wondering, what happened to my favs and alerts? Why'd you delete them? Thats because they're all under here now. Its partly for organization and part laziness. Now, you can read them all under one story instead of new ones everything. Frankly, it was getting annoying typing them up like that.

"Go away Mycroft."

"Nice to see you too, brother."

Sherlock glared at Mycroft from his comfy spot in his armchair. Didn't the fat git understand that his presence was not welcome? Keeping in on his decision that he was ignoring him, he grabbed his violin and plucked out a few notes. Mycroft didn't seem to care that he was being ignored and sat in the opposite armchair. He crossed his legs and put down the pet carrier he had with him. Sherlock quickly noticed the object and turned his attention it. There was a shifting bundle of blankets inside from what he could see.

"Why did you bring me a live-in annoyance? I already have to deal with Lestrade begging me to help him with cases and coming in my flat on a regular basis."he said.

Mycroft made a humming sound in his throat and tapped his umbrella on the floor.

"Ah yes, the Detective Inspector. I have already spoken with him and he agrees that your new 'annoyance' will be most helpful to you in the long term."he said calmly.

He bent down and flicked the latch to the pet carrier with a smooth motion before sitting back into a normal position. Sherlock let out a scoff at the thought of Lestrade agreeing with Mycroft for anything good for him. A black nose was the first things he saw pop out the blanket. It wrestled free of the material and clumsily tumbled out the carrier once it got its body free. Big dark blue eyes took in the new place out it carrier before seeing Mycroft.

"A puppy? A dim and slobbering annoyance indeed. Take it with you. You even have the gall to bring a wounded one to me."Sherlock snapped, making a face as the puppy wagged its tail at Mycroft.

Its shaggy fur was a dark chocolate blond and had big triangular ears and a thick bandage around its left shoulder. Frowning, he tried to detect the breed and was surprised to notice it was a mix. A Golden Retriever and a Chow Chow was a strange mix indeed. God, the little animal was going to shed all over the place. He detected a limp as the puppy sniffed at Mycroft's leg, leaning against him. Sherlock wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes. Any creature that could enjoy Mycroft's company was absolutely dim.

"Little John Watson here is no common puppy. He got shot while protecting his handler. He almost didn't make it but he fought through the operation. I figured he would be a good puzzle seeing as he cannot complete his training as a bomb detection dog." Mycroft explained, giving John a pat on the head.

Sherlock seemed to be a little intrigued, not that he would try to show it. Mycroft knew that John wasn't going anywhere just by the way Sherlock's eyes lit up at the information. A decent puzzle should be fine for Sherlock to figure out.

"All the things you require to take care of John will be here tomorrow morning. Train him to help you as you see fit. Good afternoon, Sherlock." Sherlock ignored Mycroft as he left, watching John start surveying the room.

The limp seemed to bad enough to slow the puppy's progress. John sniffed at the furniture and rubbed against the armchair that Mycroft had vacated. He went around the room in a matter of minutes warily, sniffing various pieces of furniture and papers lying around. He finally turned his attention to Sherlock and came to sit in front of him once he finished. Sherlock put his violin down and frowned at John as he sat in front of him. He took in the wagging tail and the slight wince that it gave in getting into a sitting position.

Having gone over what he didn't delete about puppies, he was calm and strangely friendly. What he really wanted to see was the bullet wound but it would be a while before it was healed properly. Ugh. That meant even more tedious work of taking care of John.

"Maybe you could be trained to piss on Mycroft when he comes in the door. Or maybe Anderson."Sherlock said with a smirk, standing up to go work on his experiments.

He did have some mold cultures that he wanted to look at. John tilted his head at Sherlock's words and let out a small bark. He followed Sherlock into the kitchen and pawed at his leg with his good forepaw. Sherlock turned his head slightly to glare at John and was surprised to be given a disapproving look. What did the little beast know? He went to start walking again but another tug had him staring down at John. He scoffed and bent down to pick up John, mindful of the shoulder. John looked up at Sherlock, nosing his chin and wagging his tail. It almost looked like he was giving the detective a timid smile.

"We're going to have to talk about you enjoying Mycroft's presence. I'm serious about the pissing though. If not my infernal brother, at least Anderson."