thanks to robaemea for the drawing. I added a little fic to it.
John came up the stairs carrying a box with difficulty. As he entered the living room he placed the box on the floor and opened it, allowing the little things in it to breath properly.
Sherlock stopped playing his violin and placed it with the bow on its stand, staring at John, who was too absorbed on whatever was inside the box.
"What's that?" Sherlock asked, intrigued by the tender smile on John's face.
"Little kittens." John answered, looking up and extending his hand to close the door of the flat. "I was passing by a garbage can and heard them. Someone must have abandoned them."
John took the kittens out of the box one by one, placing them next to each other carefully, on the floor. The kittens didn't move, they just stood there trembling and meowing. Sherlock counted them right away, as John left to the kitchen. There were ten and they were tiny. John came back with two plates full of milk.
"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked. He did not want to admit it, but the kittens were scaring him. They were too many and too small.
"Feeding them. They must be starving."
And so it seemed. The kittens attacked the milk right away, feasting. John sat down next to them, still smiling. He looked up, at Sherlock.
"Come here. They don't bite."
Sherlock looked at John and at the kittens, unsure. He finally took a step and sat down as well.
He saw John petting one of the kittens and did the same. As if triggered by his sudden movement, all kittens, fed and warm, turned to him.
John observed Sherlock, as the kittens licked his hand and sat on his lap. One of the kittens scratched his trousers as it climbed his legs but Sherlock did not mind. He was smiling. He looked at John.
"They stay."
John's smile faded away.
"Sherlock…" he said, trying to put some sense in Sherlock's mind. "They can't just stay."
But Sherlock would not listen. Smiling like a child on Christmas morning he held all the kittens and announced.
"We are keeping ALL of them."
John sighed, knowing when to accept defeat. He smirked as Sherlock tried to avoid all the kittens from climbing his shirt, letting himself fall on the floor, laughing cheerfully. The doctor realised he would have to go out again. They were going to need a whole lot of milk.