The next day Sherlock and John sat outside their hotel and enjoyed breakfast. Or rather, John enjoyed a cooked breakfast while Sherlock sipped a cup of tea and nibbled at John's toast.
"So they didn't put down the dog?" Sherlock asked.
"No. They couldn't bring themselves to do it so they just let it lose on the moors. Of course, the deed is done now, isn't it?" John answered between mouthfuls.
Sherlock frowned, "Couldn't bring themselves to do it…hmmm…I see…"
John laughed, "No you don't."
"No I don't," Sherlock agreed.
"It is like you couldn't bring yourself to leave me even though I'm the grit on your lens or whatever it was that you said."
"Ah," Sherlock said nodding, "sentiment."
"Sentiment," John agreed.
The conversation paused while John finished the last of his meal. When he was done he put his knife and fork on his plate and pushed his plate aside. "Don't think I haven't noticed, by the way," John said.
"Noticed what?" Sherlock replied.
"That you were wrong," John answered.
"I was not wrong."
"You thought it was in the sugar. It wasn't in the sugar. You were wrong."
"I thought it was a drug and it was."
"Ah, but you thought the drug was in the sugar and it wasn't. You were wrong."
Sherlock frowned, "Well, it won't happen again."
John smiled, "It happens all the time. So shall we organise our trip home?"
"No," Sherlock answered, "I'd like to stay on another night, maybe two."
"Oh?"
"The moors are an incredible place, hauntingly beautiful, really… You could get lost out there on the moors and find your own private little world. There are a few experiments I'd like to perform before we leave…"
"Experiments?" John asked.
"Yes, I believe I owe you a few experiments, don't I? That was the agreement?" Sherlock replied grinning cheekily.
John smiled, "That was the agreement."
Sherlock leant across the table and took John's hands in his own. He kissed John tenderly on the lips.
John gazed into Sherlock's eyes and sighed, "People will talk."
"Let them. People do little else, my dear Dr Watson."