Note: Its been a year already? I've gotten off my own schedule It's my own fault, really. I have like two chapters of this all partially finished. This is the only one I've finished so far.

Also, this might be the last of the chapters for a while. I've actually run out of feasible ideas for this. Any upcoming chapters will be sparse and far in the future. Remember, suggestion are always welcome. Leave some in the comments or on my Tumblr.

Summary: John gets a sweater from Mrs. Hudson that he absolutely loves and Sherlock absolutely hates.

Sherlock had to wonder if Ms. Hudson waited until he left the flat to snatch John away. It would not be the first time that he left for a trip and John was with her. Before it was the fated Christmas Incident - he would never look at a pile of fairy lights the same again - and further back, Halloween. John did know how to hold a grudge for being a dog. That being said, there were only a few things on his Not Appropriate for John list. One, John was not allowed table scraps of any kind.

He had his own special formulated food consisting of vegetables and meat. He did not need to worry about John getting fat. Secondly, John was not allowed in the kitchen when there was food - more likely hazardous experiments - were being prepared. The vet was expensive and having John not get sick was easily avoidable. Those was most important on the list. Others include John not allowed to go to the park and running off on his own. It was hell getting the pup clean and then out the tub when he was finished.

The most important - though he admitted it was purely cosmetic and a pet peeve - was putting John in clothes. He was covered in fur and he saw no point of dressing him up. He was a dog. Dogs were not human children. There were no reason for clothes of any kind. Ms. Hudson knew he disapproved and waited until he was out of town.

He told himself to stop underestimating his landlady when she wanted her way. It was impossible to stop her. Not to mention that John was occasionally on board with her schemes. Staring at the scene before him, he closed his eyes in hope that it was a hallucination. He opened them again. Nope. It was still there.

John was on the carpet on his back, wiggling around as if he had an itch. That was nothing new. The dog hairs imbedded in said carpet could attest to that. The difference was the piece of clothing covering him. It was horrid oatmeal cable knit jumper that clashed with the color of his fur. The pup rolled to his feet and wagged his tail for Sherlock, stretching as he did so. It fit John snugly and make him look like more of a puffball.

"Oh welcome back, Sherlock. Doesn't John look handsome?" Ms. Hudson said from her seat on the sofa.

"He looks quite ridiculous. He's a dog, not a child. Wearing clothing is unnecessary." Sherlock answered as he went to go hang his coat up.

John's ears went back and his tail drooped as if he knew Sherlock didn't approve of his new threads. He nosed Sherlock's leg as he passed before going over to Ms. Hudson. She made a disapproving noise at the detective, but made space for John to hop on the sofa with her. He plopped his head in her lap and gave her a loo as if she were to explain why Sherlock did not like his clothes. She had no real answer for the pup. Ms. Hudson scratched John behind the ears and chuckled as he let out a small huff.

"Now that is quite rude, Sherlock. John loves his jumper. You wouldn't want him to get into those silk shirts you like so much again, would you?"

Sherlock froze with the memory and felt his lips start to move into a frown. He moved to the kitchen to get John's dinner prepared. Oh, he remembered alright. Did anyone want to come home to see their dog rolling in their shirts? Especially when those shirts cost more than what some people made in a week. He threatened to shave John clean and give him away if it ever happened.

John wasn't phased, though he seemed to sense that Sherlock was not happy with him. He spent a few days at Ms. Hudson's until Sherlock cooled down. He spared a glance to see what the pup was up to. Ms. Hudson was in the doorway in preparation to go down to her own home. She fed John a treat that looked suspiciously like a ginger biscuit she made a few days ago. He still didn't understand why John wanted to keep such an ugly piece of clothing for himself.

He heard her mention that he needed to eat before leaving. Sherlock finished John's food and shook his head. Maybe John the gift comforting because of the scent. Still, there was no need for him to wear the jumper in the first place. He bent down and put the full bowl back into the stand. He started to stand when John found that the perfect to greet him was now.

John rushed him and shoved his whole body at Sherlock, tail wagging happily. To save himself from an embarrassing spill, Sherlock steadied himself with one hand. He sat on the floor and leaned back on the cabinet doors. John clambered over his outstretched legs until he was comfortably in Sherlock's lap. He sniffed at the detective's chest and worked his way up to his neck. His cold nose nudged Sherlock's ear as he stuck his muzzle into his curls.

Apparently pleased with his inspection, John licked Sherlock's cheek and rubbed his head under his chin. Sherlock let out a grunt and wiped his cheek free of spit. John was actually a hefty weight in his lap. He pet John under his chin, ignoring the ticklish sensation of fur on his throat. His pup was starting to hit ending stages of growth and was putting on height and weight. He draped his free arm around John and let the pup snuggle into his embrace.

Now that the jumper was close, he examined it in detail. Ms. Hudson must have been working on it for a while since the patterns were intricate. It was obvious that John adored the thing to pieces. He looked at the pup in his lap before letting out a sigh. This was disgusting. He had to be getting soft. John just kept breaking down his defenses.

"You like that hideous jumper regardless of how impractical it is, don't you?" Sherlock said.

John made a rumbling noise and wagged his tail, pressing closer to Sherlock. The detective sighed and lifted up the jumper to scratch John in his favorite place on his back.

"Oh fine, you can keep it."