Fair warning, this is cliche as I don't even know what. But I don't care it's adorable. I can just see Sherlock struggling with trying to understand it. P.S. For anyone reading my Shadowhunter fic, it should be updated within the next few days. I was on vacation from work and then I went to Warped Tour and then back to work. So yeah, I've been a bit busy. But I'm still working on it and it'll be up soon. And as always, please review! 3
_Reasons
2. John has always been the human side Sherlock has never had. Whether it be his compassion or general insight as to how humanity feels, there is a completeness that John brings to Sherlock's life. John is a whole person but without him, Sherlock knows he is not the full image of a person. To him it is always John and Sherlock and he loathes when people never realize how important John is to him and The Work.
It is a Monday and the doctor is late home from the hospital. Sherlock is not one to pace. Well, not in worry anyway. It's something he finds himself doing when pondering a case but lately he's find himself doing it much more when John is away. The man's shift had ended nearly an hour ago and it didn't take him that long to make it back to the flat. What had held him? Sherlock checked his phone for perhaps the hundredth time and was yet to receive a message. It was raining so the chances the doctor had chosen to walk home were absolutely zero. Just as the detective was about to don his coat and follow him, the door slammed open, revealing a very soaked doctor with a large (and soggy) cardboard box in his hands.
In an attempt to hide his relief at John's safety, he merely questions, "What in bloody hell is that box for?" John merely glances at him for a moment before returning his attention to the box.
"Sherlock, before you make a fuss please realize that I had to do it." The tall man's curiosity is piqued and watches closely as John gently places the box on the floor. He is quiet for a moment, studying it's contents.
"Please tell me that is not what I think it is." John nods and removes his coat.
"It is and don't give me anything about it because I saved it's life and it's staying here." He runs back and grabs a towel before carefully removing the soaked kitten from the box. Sherlock watches, half amazed as John gently towel dries the thing.
"You honestly picked up a kitten off the street. An army veteran that couldn't bare to see a cat out in the rain. It's almost funny." John glares at him.
"Sod off. It would have died and no one else even noticed it was there. The kitten is nearly dry now and John holds it out for Sherlock.
"Certainly not." He has no patience for animals.
"Come on, I have to change I'm completely soaked. Just for like two minutes." Sherlock sighs and gives in easily, taking the kitten awkwardly in his hands as John heads towards his bedroom. He holds the furry creature at eye level for a moment, steady blue eyes meeting large frightened dark ones. It is only in this moment Sherlock realizes he has never held a kitten before. He pets it on it's head with a single finger a few times, trying to take the fear out of it's eyes and holds it closer to his chest. When it begins to purr, Sherlock goes still. He sees John is still in his room and brings the kitten closer, so it's partially laying against his chest and thinks to himself that maybe, just maybe, animals aren't so bad after all. They're already much better than humans seeing as they can't talk and that cuts back sufficiently on the amount of stupid things that could be said.
So when he notices John coming down the stairs he turns slightly away. He can tell John has stopped and is watching but gives no notice. By this point the small creature has fallen asleep on his legs and he makes no move to put it anywhere else. There is suddenly a hand on his shoulder and Sherlock looks up to see John smiling down at him, happiness and some other unnamed emotion in his eyes. Something Sherlock has seen before but never directed at himself. For some reason this brings the warmth into his chest again and he tolerates John's hand on his shoulder, maybe even leans into the other man a little. Not that he would ever admit it. But John's body heat is pleasing and he's glad the man brought the kitten to the flat. John is compassionate, something Sherlock doesn't really understand. But it's another reason he finds that he loves John Watson.
_And enter adorable kitten that will be mentioned in a few more parts of the fic. I kinda want to name it science because I can see Sherlock telling John to buy cat food and yelling "It's for Science John!" Ahhh that would be great. But I dunno, I don't think John would allow that. Anyway we'll see where it leads, anyone with a name for the fuzzy beast is welcome to leave suggestions in the reviews (hint hint) 3
