"John? John?" The black curly cat whined walking into his master's room. John turned around to stare at the little ball of black fur that was calling to him. "What is it, Sherlock? A smile crawled onto the cats face as he jumped up into the blonds' lap demanding attention. "Merry Christmas, John!" the blond just smiled down to the cat and petted him as he remembered what today is. "Merry Christmas to you too, Sherlock." The former soldier's hand stroked the feline's ears affectionately and picked him up to place him on the bed. John sat down next to his animal companion. "Anything you would like to do for Christmas?" As the words escaped the ex-soldier's lips, there was no longer a cat by his side; there was a man with black curly hair. "Why don't we make a cake?" The man pondered. "Sounds good to me, but we don't have anything to make one with." The cat man smirked to the blond. "Looks like we're just going to have to buy some things to make one." John rolled his eyes as he told Sherlock to go into the living room of the flat that they shared and began to get dressed for the store.
When John had walked out of his room, he found Sherlock already to go. He had on his usual black trench coat and purple scarf wrapped around his neck snugly. "Are you ready to go," John asked the Black haired male. Sherlock looked to John and nodded his head as they both walked down the stairs to the street. As usual, Mrs. Hudson was walking up the stairs about something. "Ah, Merry Christmas, John and Merry Christmas to you too, Sherlock." The landlady smiled sweetly to both men. "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Hudson," John smiled back to her. "Merry Christmas," Sherlock added. "So where are you boys headed off to?" John looked back at Sherlock and stated, "Sherlock wants to make a Christmas cake, and so we're heading off to the store." The old woman smiled again to both of them and waved to them as they made their way down. "Okay you two, Merry Christmas. Save me some cake." John laughed and replied. "Okay, as long as you have tea ready for me when we get back." Mrs. Hudson ignored the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm not your maid. I'm you landlady."
"Is there anything else we need while we're here, John?" the black haired cat looked to his owner. "Cat food for you and more printing paper for me. Also some new shampoo." John was a writer for the local paper. He became one two years after he came home from the war and settled down in his comfy little flat that he shared with his strange cat that he found on the street. It was funny when he found out how intelligent the cat was and how it could take form of a human.
John and Sherlock gathered the printing paper right when they got in the store. "Now, Sherlock, Please promise me you won't touch this paper. I have to buy more because of you." The taller male rolled his eyes and let a smirk grace his lips. "No Promises, John." The blond let out a sigh. He could never trust him when it came to paper. Oh how the feline loved to chew and make a mess with it. He remembered one time he had to walk home only to have ink splattered all over the cat and over multiple pieces of paper. The splattered were actually paw prints that Sherlock made and he gave it to John. He never admitted that he liked them, but he kept them in his work drawer to look at whenever he was bored. "I can't trust you with paper can I." The other just smirked again and replied teasingly, 'Aw. You don't like my art projects? That hurts."
"Next thing on the list is cat food." John looked to Sherlock who had perked up at the sound of picking out food. He looked at each bag of food and gave a quick sniff to each of them till he picked a bag out. John walked over to the bag and put it into the cart. "John?" The shorter looked up at him. "Yes?" Sherlock put on the cutest face he could muster and looked to the blond. "May I get some wet food this time?" John tried to ignore the face but the cat knew he was a sucker for that face. "… Oh fine." Bull's eye. Cat: one, Human: zero. "Consider it a Christmas gift." The black haired man smiled to himself as he got what he wanted. He chose some wet cat food to go with his dry food. Oh how John could spoil him.
After the cat food, John picked out shampoo for himself with the help of his annoying pet. Sherlock was picking out the ones with pretty pictures and smells. Finally, both of them came to an agreement of what should be used on him. After the solved issue of the shampoo, they both finally got to find the ingredients to their cake and were on their way to pay.
The walk back home was quiet and peaceful, despite the noise from all the people bustling around the streets of London. Sherlock walked happily next to John. A small smile crept onto his lips while watching his cat. Soon they came to the little flat. John unlocked the door and allowed his cat, now in the form of a cat, to scamper up the stairs and into their flat. The blond shook his head as he picked up Sherlock's scarf and coat and threw it across his shoulders. When he got to the top, an eager Sherlock was waiting for him inside the kitchen. "Are you ready, John?" The cat's voice squeaked. The male nodded to him as he took off his coat and put it on the rack. Sherlock jumped up onto the chair and curled up onto John's favorite union jack pillow. John slowly made his way to the kitchen and sat out all the ingredients to make the cake and threw the cat food in a cabinet. Only thing that wasn't put up was the paper. I think you can imagine what went through our little Sherlock's mind.
As the former soldier worked on the cake for him and his cat, he accidentally left the poor paper in the living room for Sherlock to play with. The curly haired cat walked into John's work room and pulled out one of his best pens. Soon the cake was baking in the oven. "Sherlock, I have batter left over for you!" John looked into the living room for his beloved cat. Strange. The cat wasn't on the chair anymore. The blond also noticed his new pack of paper was missing. John face palmed. He should have known that the cat would take it. He looked into his bedroom. No sign of Sherlock and the paper. He looked in the living room again just in case. Still nothing. Then finally an idea struck him. His work room. He found the door closed when he walked up to the small room. Slowly the blonde male opened the door only to reveal a busy Sherlock drawing on his new paper. The black cat looked up at him and held up his masterpiece to John. Well, Sherlock was no Picasso but it still was cute. The blond soldier's anger melted away and was replaced with amusement. "For you, John. Merry Christmas." John smiled at the picture it was a poorly drawn picture of him and Sherlock. He hugged the cat for the picture. Sherlock hugged back and kissed John's cheek lightly. In return, the blond petted the curly haired cats head. This moment was short lived by the sound of the fire detector going off and Mrs. Hudson yelling about the noise. Great job, Dr. Watson. You burned the cake and are going to be in big trouble with your landlady. Oh well. Merry Christmas. That's all that matters.
AUTHORS NOTE! Thanks for reading this! This is my first Sherlock fic. This idea just randomly came to me and I had to write me how you liked it. And merry late Christmas!