December 11: "Wrapping paper." (from Werepanther33)
A/N: With a special appearance of a friend from yesterday... (Thanks for the name, Book girl fan!)
Yeah, yeah. I know yesterday I said that it took place during Watson's marriage, but let's just forget that now. The opportunity was just too good to pass up. :)
"Have either of you two seen Sockball this morning?" asked Mrs. Hudson worriedly as she set down the breakfast tray on the table next to Holmes and Watson one frigid December morning. "I haven't seen him since last night."
"I haven't either, Mrs. Hudson," said Watson.
"Hmm? What about a sock-ball?" asked Holmes absently from behind one of his newspapers.
"Your kitten, Holmes," said Watson slowly, as if he was speaking to someone either deaf or stupid. (At the moment, Holmes seemed to be both.)
"It's not my kitten!" exclaimed Holmes, slamming the paper down to give his friend his best death-glare. Watson returned the glare with an innocent look, and eventually Holmes gave up the attempt. "It is not my fault that client, Mrs. Dowley or whatever her name was, felt the need to give me the beast, even when I told her in no uncertain terms that I did not want it!"
"And then you left it in a box to starve?!" exclaimed Mrs. Hudson. "No creature deserves to be your pet! I will not let you anywhere near him!" Then she added as an afterthought, "That is, when I find him."
"We'll watch out for Sockball, won't we Holmes?" said Watson, giving the detective a pointed look, which the latter ignored. Mrs. Hudson smiled at Watson, and gave Holmes a contemptuous glance (which he also ignored) and left the room.
"Honestly, Watson," said Holmes. "I will never understand how women name their pets. Sockball? What kind of a name is that?"
Watson shrugged, and poured himself a cup of coffee. "She did find it behind your bed, which tends to be the place where all your stray socks end up."
"How do you know what's behind my bed?" asked Holmes .
Watson suppressed an eye roll, and said, "Remember when Mrs. Hudson found that poisonous plant in your room and refused to clean it for a month? Who did you think cleaned your room while you were away on that case for a week?!"
Holmes fell silent for a moment. "Oh."
Luckily for both parties, the semi-awkward silence was broken by a loud meowing from under the Christmas tree Watson and Mrs. Hudson had insisted on putting up in the corner. Watson stood up, and walked over to the tree, and was greeted by a falling roll of wrapping paper, which hit squarely him on the knee. The wrapping paper was quickly followed by a small orange kitten, intent on attacking the wrapping paper with its tiny paws. Watson picked it up and smiled.
"Isn't he cute?" he asked, stroking its fur. Sockball purred.
Holmes gave Watson a look that clearly stated that he did not agree.
"How can you possibly be afraid of him?" asked Watson. Sockball gave Holmes an angelic look, which was returned with a glare.
"He's just biding his time, Watson. You had better watch out!" said Holmes watching the kitten warily, as it poked the buttons on Watson's shirt.
Watson snorted. "Sure you don't want to hold him?"
Holmes gave Watson a mortified stare before shouting, "MRS. HUDSON, WE FOUND YOUR CAT, NOW PLEASE COME TAKE IT!" It did not take long for the landlady to rush back to the sitting room and claim her kitten. Watson seemed almost reluctant to hand it over; he was actually becoming attached to the creature.
As he did so, Sockball jumped out of his arms and returned to his quest to discover the treasure hidden beneath the surface of the wrapping paper. Mrs. Hudson smiled and Watson chuckled, but Holmes merely gave all three of them his blackest scowl (which was ignored).
Since the kitten seemed to be in no hurry to leave his prize behind, Mrs. Hudson took the wrapping paper along with the kitten away with her.
A/N: *Hugs Sockball, and Holmes scowls again*
