Author's Note: Written as a late bday gift for mollyhooperish on tumblr.
Meow.
Sherlock stopped short on the street in front of 221B. He looked down to his right to find a baby kitten; an orange tabby whose tail was ringed with white stripes. The poor thing looked awfully skinny. He shook his head, continuing to unlock the door when he heard the pitiful mew once more.
With a sigh, Sherlock conceded. "Alright, but just this once," he told the kitten as he scooped it up in his arms. "After this, you're on your own to hunt for food." The kitten meowed in reply as if he understood.
"Let's see what Molly's up to, huh?" he asked the tabby, who was preoccupied with the chicken bits he was given. Sherlock scrolled Molly's blog on his mobile to see if there was a new post, finding one where she mentioned wanting to have a cat. "Hmm." Gears were turning in his mind as he glanced over at the hungry kitten in his kitchen.
It was decided. Sherlock would nurse this kitten back to health, and present it to Molly as a gift. Perhaps it should be on the DL, he reasoned with himself.
"Sherlock, what have you got here?" Mrs. Hudson asked. "I didn't know you were a cat person."
"I'm not," he replied curtly.
Her face fell. "Oh, I see…I think." She paused a moment. "Then why—"
"I'm simply nursing it back to health until it can fend for itself," Sherlock sighed in annoyance. There was no need to inform her he intended to give it to a friend. They were friends, right? He didn't have friends. Perhaps colleague was more accurate.
That's not true, Sherlock. You have friends; you just choose to not acknowledge it.
He shook his head to rid himself of Molly's voice in his head. How odd? When did she become a figment of his mind palace?
Molly curled up on her sofa, watching Doctor Who reruns, and eating ice cream out of the carton. The day had just been awful, and she wanted to forget all about it. Losing herself in a fictional world sounded like the perfect way. There was a knock at the door, causing her to reluctantly set down her ice cream and get up to answer it. Upon opening it, she discovered there was nobody there.
Meow.
She looked down, seeing the cutest little kitten in a small pet carrier with a bow on top. "Hi there, little one," she cooed, unlocking the door. Molly scooped him up into her arms lovingly. "I wonder who brought you here." She cast her eyes toward the bow, noticing the small note left with it.
'From a friend ' was all it said, but she could recognize that handwriting anywhere. The thought made her smile; Sherlock Holmes considered them to be friends. Perhaps, one day, they could be more.