Molly Hooper stroked her cat gently. She sipped her tea after a hard day at work, and looked around her flat.
Her cats were peculiar. There was the diabolically clever Jim, the frequently grumpy but equally intelligent Sherlock, the easygoing John, and the shy Sebastian. They seemed to get along in pairs—for some reason, Sherlock and Jim were always fighting, but Jim and Sebastian frequently cuddled together, and John was the only one Sherlock permitted to wash his face. Right now, John was the one she was petting. His orange eyes were consoling, his deep brown fur soft as ever. But there was a crash from the kitchen, and Molly jumped up.
"Sherlock! Get down from there!" Sherlock stared at Molly, his pale blue eyes wide with guilt. He jumped down from the countertop and scampered to the living room couch. His grey fur covered the dish of devilled eggs that Molly had made ready, so she had to throw them out. There was even a bite taken out of one of the eggs. Jim came from behind the refrigerator, half of a mouse in his mouth. He placed it at her feet and beamed with pride. Molly winced. Even though she worked in a hospital, it bothered her that Jim kept bringing her presents. She picked up the remains of the mouse and threw them away. Jim looked at her as if to say "fine, then, be that way", the vivid green staring out of the darkness of his face.
Molly turned on the telly, and as she dozed to whatever happened to be on, she felt some cat jump up on her. Sebastian had decided to cuddle. Molly smiled. She loved her cats, no matter what it made her look like. She dozed off again only to wake up to both Jim and Sherlock in her face, as if in competition to get near to her.
"You're stealing my air," she cooed, but Jim cut her off mid-word as he practically stuck his nose in her mouth. Sherlock seemed to have decided that enough was enough, and went to start a playful tussle with John. Molly had the best family in the world in her cats. All unique, all precious, all hers.