Watson woke in the early light of dawn and made his way into the sitting room to see how the cats had fared. To his surprise and relief, Holmes was mostly de-transformed. Soft black fur remained on the backs of his hands and his eyes were still green with vertical pupils but other than that he was quite human again.
Mrs. Hudson was asleep on the settee, also fully human if tabby-striped. Mycroft was snoring softly on the couch, halfway to his normal human size and less furry than before. Moriarty, sleeping soundly on Holmes's desk , was still very much a cat.
"I'm glad to see it's finally wearing off," Watson said in the ghost of whisper so as not to disturb the others.
"No more glad than I," Holmes retorted. "It seems the timetable we were given was correct."
"Given by whom?" Watson asked. He had begun backing up to the door to his bedroom, his eyes already starting to burn and his nose beginning to twitch. The sitting room would be intolerable for him for some time, he knew.
"A mouse we met, by the name of Basil. Quite a polite little fellow."
"A talking mouse? Moreover, one willing to talk to cats?"
Holmes shrugged. "My dear fellow, despite recent events, the rules and laws of furry-fics remain outside my bailiwick."
Bailiwick – ha, got it in there! ;) And hang on, one more chapter of this to go!