I lay stretched out on the couch in what John called my 'thinking pose'. Fingers steepled under my chin staring at the blank ceiling. I suppose that was accurate since I do indeed spend hours in this position thinking. I had never seen a need to label it.

At the moment I was pondering the melting point for different types of hair and if hair products made a mentionable difference.

I heard the door open and John's footfalls on the stairs. Judging by his manner of waking he had a normal day at surgery and was in a good mood. He was also carrying something. Most likely groceries. Although he was speaking.

He doesn't usually talk to to the shopping bags. I was mildly curious now. I was sure he was alone. Had he finally gone mad? Lost his grip on reality?

I do hope it wasn't entirely my fault. But then again it could be quite interesting having an insane flatmate. My thoughts went off on on what kind of experiments I could do on John if he had indeed lost his mind.

By this time he had made it to the door and I could hear him digging for his keys. I briefly considered getting the door but decided he could handle it on his own. He was still talking to something but it was too quiet to make out.

I went back to staring at the ceiling. John finally got the door open and came in.

"Sherlock. I've got a surprise. Come look."

A surprise? Hmm. Had he perhaps been so excited about this 'surprise' he simply couldn't stop talking about it? Not really like John to do so. So the only logical conclusion being he was in fact talking to something. Yes that must be it.

Wait. Talking to what exactly?

I got up from the couch hurriedly to see what John had dragged in off the street. He was facing the kitchen table, back to me, fussing over something. I approached with caution having no idea what would have caught his attention to such a degree that he would feel the need to bring it home.

I came around his side to see the dirtiest, ugliest stray cat I had ever laid eyes on. This would most certainly not do. My nose wrinkled involuntarily.

"Its a cat." John stated grinning broadly. I rolled my eyes.

"I can see that. What is it doing here? On our kitchen table no less. Really John. As a doctor you should be more aware of contamination and germs."

He scoffed. "I've seen what kind of 'contamination' this table has been subject to because of your experiments. This poor cat is not even close to being as bad as all that."

I chose to ignore that. "Well you can just put it right back where you found it. We've no use for a filthy animal."

John looked back to the cat still sitting on the table. "She was just sitting on the curb outside the surgery all cold and skinny. Even you would have felt sorry for her. "

"I doubt that. "

"Anyway I figure she can stay here till I can find her a home. And before you argue I've made up my mind. Cats usually keep to themselves and don't need much care. You won't even know she's here."

"I highly doubt that."

John was wearing his 'I'm doing what I want and I'll make a fuss if you stop me' face. I sighed. I let it go for now. I could just 'accidentally ' leave the doors open when John went to work the next day and well if it wandered out then who could blame me? One night was all I had to endure.

I went back to my spot on the couch. John busied himself fussing over the animal still on the table. I watched him get out a saucer and milk. He poured the milk and presented it to the cat like some kind of gift. The cat sniffed the saucer and looked up at John with a loud whine. John frowned.

"What's wrong? You want it warmed up? "

"For a poor starving stray it's quite picky." I said as John warmed up the milk.

He ignored me as he placed the now warm milk in front of the cat. This time it settled then and lapped up the liquid. John grinned in triumph. I rolled my eyes.

I continued to study John and his new pet through the evening. He washed it up with a damp flannel and brushed the knots from its fur with great care. Once satisfied with his work, he placed it down on the floor and turned towards the bathroom.

"Where are you going? "

"Shower and bed."

"You can't just let this thing run wild in here."

John looked to the cat who was cleaning herself inelegantly on the floor in front of the sofa.

"Yes. She's positively rabid. I'm going to shower."

"If it attacks me it will be your fault." I said to the closing bath door.

I eyed the cat with loathing. It stared right back without blinking, which I found rather irritating.

"I'm told its rude to stare at people." I say. Still stares. I prod it with my foot, "Go on. Find something of John's to tear up or something." It finally saunters away and I got back to staring at the ceiling and thinking about hair. Sometime later I hear John exit the bath. I don't bother to look up as he walks into the living room.

"Where is the cat?"

"How should I know?"

He sighs and walks to the kitchen, then down the hall and finally stops at my bedroom door.

"Did you leave your door open?" he asked.

No. No I did not. I get up and stalk towards my room. John is laughing softly standing in the doorway. I push past him into the room. My irritation spikes at the sight of the dirty stray stretched out on my pillow, sleeping soundly. I have a strong urge to fling it to the floor and burn the pillow on the spot. But I imagine John would deem this an overreaction and be quite cross with me I'm sure.

John seems to sense my thoughts and takes the cat away, still chuckling to himself. I take up the soiled pillow as well as the sheet it undoubtedly touched and carry them to the bin in the kitchen.

I look across the kitchen to see John attempting to interest the cat in a piece of string he found somewhere. John cooed and twitched the string at the cat while it simply sat there licking its own belly showing complete disinterest.

"I don't think it cares to play at the moment John." I say.

John continued in his efforts nonetheless.

"She hasn't had an owner to play with her in a long while. Maybe she's forgotten how."

"Or she is a hateful beast who would just as soon claw your eyes out as play with a string." That earned me an annoyed glare. I stalked back to my room to get some peace. I threw myself down on my half-made bed to sulk. Oh god how I dearly wished for a case. 'A nice murder' as says. Yes, I could do with that.

After a while I hear John go upstairs to his room. Finally! Maybe be now I could get started on my experiment with out begin intruded upon. Jumping to my feet, I go to the kitchen. I open the drawer John had deemed the 'flatware only' drawer and pull out several small bags containing various samples of hair.

Humming Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata I spread them out on the table to be separated into petri dishes, later to be exposed to different acids. I take one of the samples and place it on a slide and then under the microscope for examination. I am in the middle of adjusting the focus when a crash startles me.

I snap my head up to see the insufferable cat perched on the table. A petri dish lay a mess on the floor. I summon at the patience I can in an effort not to toss the cat across the room.

"Get. Off. Shoo!" I flop my hands in its face to make my point. Nothing. She just sat that stupidly. She continued to do so as she pawed another dish to the floor with a clatter.

"Why you little... " No. I would not be dragged into a battle of wills with a wretched cat. I resorted to prodding it with a pen in an attempt to get it to go away. If batted at my hand and rolled on its back, paws up.

"Now you want to play. Sorry, not interested. If you will not leave then do not bother me."

I had just began to concentrate again when I feel a paw at my sleeve. This is completely unacceptable.

Looking at the animal I say "If I give you something to occupy yourself with will you go away?" Blank stare. I rummage around the living room and find one of John's socks. I deposit it in front of the cat, "Here. Play."

She considered the sock for a moment and it to joined the dishes on the floor.

Hmmm.

Looking around I select a discarded ball of paper and place it in front of her. She sniffs it and again slaps it over the edge of the table.

Interesting. I decide to conduct a new experiment.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It's early morning by the time John makes his way downstairs. Sherlock glances up as he comes around the corner into the kitchen. John shakes his head when he sees the pile of glass and debris scattered on the floor.

"Sherlock what... " John stops speaking and stares at his flatmate. His mouth falls open at the sight before him. The cat that Sherlock had previously objected to so vehemently and referred to as a 'dirty stray' was looking quite content sitting on the consulting detectives lap while he looked into his microscope.

Sherlock looked up at him.

"Problem?" he asked.

John just blinked at him.

"Er...no. It's just..nothing. "

He walked over to make tea with a sigh. There were some things that he just didn't want to go into this early in the morning. Sherlock

Sherlock sat at the table behind him softly scratching the cat behind the ear.