What a Lovely Dog (Sherlock's POV)

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The fire was burning brightly, smoke was spinning up from the cigarette that rested on my lips and my fingers were tapping out a sporadic beat as I sat there. My eyes saw nothing, even though they were wide open.

"How did he know, Sherly? Aren't you curious?" The voice was back, waltzing around my mind palace. I walked leisurely down the halls I had built for myself, just listening. I was too tired to banter with the oddly familiar voice.

"Come on, Sherlock, it's no fun talking to myself! How did that fat old man know to look here? How did he know about the right under your nose? How. Did. He. Know?" The voice was persistent, his hands now banging angrily upon my walls.

"You are talking to yourself, you are but a figment of my mind palace." I reminded the voice, the elusive figure. The cigarette dropped from my mouth and singed the carpet before I absently stomped it out.

"It speaks!" He crowed. I could only shake my head. Slowly, I stood from my chair and sat in John's, missing him tremendously. I pulled out both notes he had left for me and reread them all over again.

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson's grating voice wafted up the stairs.

"What?!" I called back when she did not continue.

"Do you want tea, dear?"

"No. I am fine." I hissed before leaning back in John's chair. My brain seemed to float up and out of my head.

"How did he know?" I wondered aloud, getting up and walking around. The bookshops name had been 'Fidel and Son's Mystical Wonderlands' with 'tea shop included' in the smallest fine print below it. I'm guessing the man's last name was Fidel, he only has one son who is somehow connected to Moriarty to be able to know where John is and inform his father. The son is wanting out, but can't quite make it, so he's spilling secrets in an attempt to soothe his conscious. I began to muddle through the hints and clues, sorting them out so as to view them better when I heard a sudden and very loud knocking on the door. I could hear Mrs. Hudson putter her way over. Her soft and elderly voice quiet in the night.

"Sherlock, someone's here to see you! She says she has your dog!" I leapt out so suddenly from the chair that I just about fell over. I spun out of the door, crashing into the wall before nearly pin wheeling down the stairs. Mrs. Hudson expertly leapt out of my way. I stopped just before I ran into the woman standing in the doorway.

"Where is he? Where's Ridgely?" I asked, breathless. The woman was round, hair platinum blonde and pulled up into a loose bun that was falling apart. Her wide eyes were blue and her skin tan. She wore a puffy coat and sweat pants- obviously coming from somewhere warmer so this would be winter for her.

"He's in my car, but I have to warn you, he's a little bloody." She began to lead me towards an idling sedan. The car was red and chunky, but I began sprinting when I saw Ridgely's head sticking out the window. Blood was matted all around his square snout. He had lifted himself up, tail whizzing about frantically.

"He sure seems excited to see you! I found him running down the highway, he fell right on over when I pulled over in front of him to check on him. He's a very friendly dog." The lady smiled and opened the door, but gave no room for John to hop out, "his paws are really damaged so I wouldn't let him walk quite yet if I were you." She grunted as she heaved John into her arms. She waddled over to me and transferred him.

"Oh Ridgely." His front paws rested on my shoulders as I cradled him, burying my face in his fur. I almost felt like crying. "Thank you so much, Ms...." I trailed off.

"Just call me Betsy." She grinned before yawning, "have a good night you two! I better find a hotel right away now."

"I don't know how to thank you! Can I at least give you money to pay for your room?" I shifted Ridgely, earning a whimper as his paws dragged across my shirt.

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