It is morning. Light filters through the windows of the flat, dappling the features of a tall figure sitting in a chair. Dark, curly hair is an unruly mess, unusual this late in the morning. Icy eyes flick from one side of the room to another, searching for something, anything, out of place. Sherlock raises the cup to his lips, inhaling the steam rising from its chocolate brown depths. His feet are stretched out, newspaper in his lap. His eyes finally settle on the window. He studies the crisp winter scenes rushing by outside with a practiced eye. He settles for a middle aged man with a blue and white scarf wrapped tightly around his neck.
"Rushing around for Christmas no doubt. Has two children, a boy and a girl. Both are young, I would say around five to six. Recently divorced but it was her idea, not his. Hoping to win her back by gaining favor with the kids. Has a cat, maybe two. Living in a hotel and running out of money fast. Needs to be employed soon." He paused, glancing around the flat to see if anyone had magically appeared while he was rambling on.
Such a pity that no one was there to appreciate his sheer brilliance. Where was that blasted John when you needed him? He would call him. Yes, that's it. Surely he couldn't resist directly speaking with the great Sherlock Holmes.
Ring ring ring! Ring ring ring! Finally he picked up.
"John, where are you? I've been sitting in this chair since eight this morning with not a thing to do and I'm bored. "
Silence on the other end. Then John's voice.
"Sherlock I can't be there every second of your day, you know that. I have other things to do, other people to see!"
Sherlock frowned, opening his mouth to give some witty retort. Unfortunelty John wasn't done yet.
"Look, there is something important you should be doing."
Sherlock brightened at this, a small smile playing his lips. "Finally John, I think I've been going mad! Well, more so than usual." That ought to have gotten a laugh out of John.
Sure enough, a small chuckle could be heard through the phone. "Getting funny now are we? What happened to my usual Sherlock eh?" He paused for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. "Sherlock, I need you to get a pet."
He sat in silence, a stunned look on his face. "You want me to get.. a pet? A... pet. As in animal. Dirty, filthy, disgusting pet that licks itself and... GOES wherever it wants to? There is absolutely no way that you will find me standing in front of a row of cages, looking for a miserable, flea-bitten animal. And that's final."
A half-hour later, Sherlock found himself in front of a row of cages, looking for a miserable, flea-bitten animal.
"It will be GOOD for you Sherlock. You're always so lonely in the flat, and this will give you something to take care of. I'll pay you for the expense, you just have to pick one out." John had convinced him in the way only his best friend could. And now he was looking in each of the cages at the large, excessively shedding animals that people fondly referred to as dogs.
With horror evident in his eyes he watched as one dragged its butt across the floor, tail wagging madly. He turned to the volunteer at the kennel.
"Is there anything...else... You have here?" He asked, recoiling as one of the dogs barked suddenly at him.
"Not a dog person eh? Follow me."
The girl lead him into another room with cages in it. These, however, were cats. Each of them were quietly lounging in their own space, some asleep and others watching everything around them as it unfolded. Long haired, short haired, fat, skinny, black, white, all varieties. Sherlock found himself drawn to the small creatures inexplicably.
He stopped that the third cage on his left, eyeing it's occupant. It was a smaller cat, black in color. It's eyes were a light blue, with speckles of steel grey thrown in here and there.
"Hello."
The cat pricked his/her ears at the sound of his voice and sat up. Slowly it advanced to the front of the cage, and then sat down again. A fluffy black tail curled around dainty paws. Slowly it made eye contact with Sherlock. It's small mouth opened slightly.
"MrrrrOWW!"
"I suppose this one will do." He muttered, turning away from the feline. If he had to get a pet, it might as well be this small...fluffy...thing.
A/N:
Thank you so much for reading this far! More chapters soon to come, so please remember to check back with it now and then.
There may be more interesting things to you than a cat later on
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