Author's Notes : Thanks to my reviewers asdef, reflekshun, Slightly Obssessive, and BiebsyBiebs, and to all those who have added this to their Favourites, or placed it on Alert. Now we are back to kitten-hood for a few chapters.

Just randomly, my mother came in and asked me if I'd moved during the last several hours. My telling her I was in a black mood didn't have the same kind of effect it would had she been an SH fan. I am also now the proud owner of a handsome leather-handled, gold-lined magnifying glass, which I could not resist buying in an antique store. :D

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes. I do however, quite literally own 'Jemima'. Her picture is now on my profile, if you're curious. :)

Stepping over the threshold of the address 221B Baker Street was an action always fraught with peril. In the years in which I had lodgings there, there was no telling what so mundane an action as opening our joint sitting room door would bring – stumbling over a veritable storm of papers which had contrived to spread themselves over every conceivable surface in my absence, or to find the room virtually uninhabitable after a series of Holmes' malodorous chemical experiments, or to find my friend in deep discussion with some client, or Inspector Lestrade, or, indeed, on one rather remarkable occasion, to step blindly into the midst of a violent altercation with a very dangerous and active group of thugs, from which I still bear the scars. So it was not at all surprising that, although I relished the comfort and peace of my own house, crossing into its hall had never given me that same thrill in the nerves, that feeling that was half-excitement, half-dread- and all pleasure, I must admit- of the unknown dangers which lurked behind that unremarkable piece of wood.

I must confess, therefore- and never in less private a medium as this my own journal- that my visits to my friend in those months after my marriage was as much to my benefit and enjoyment as to his. I was being starved of those grotesque and intensely exciting experiences I had once found as ordinary and routine as my toilet in the morning-and thus my footsteps continually led me back along that particular street, like some bird returning to alight on his native soil. On some occasions I would not enter at all, and merely seeing my friend's spare silhouette on the blind was enough to reassure me that his own life was still springing and spiraling along in a tempest of high action and lowest depression indicative of the two imperious natures that warred within him, and that, if I wished for more than just fond memories through perusal of my case notes, all I had to do was take a breath and plunge back into the river of crime Holmes perpetually swam through.

And so, on this particular evening, despite a trying day at my fledgling practice, the thought of returning to hearth and home was a grating one. I had looked in on Mrs Swanson in her confinement in Paddington, and had hailed a cab to bear me homewards. But as we clopped down the Marylebone Road, I was all stung to restlessness and intense curiosity as to how my friend was entertaining himself, and what intriguing case he may even now be entangled. Therefore I called out to the cabby and soon found myself alighting on the footpath in front of my old lodgings, and shivering, perhaps, not so much with the cold as with excitement.

Soon I stood before my old friend – the varnished timbers that had so often yielded before me so that I could be once more enveloped in the all-consuming mysteries which Holmes so skillfully unraveled. But upon opening the door, I was greeted by rather a curious sight –not at all unfamiliar-but bordering on the comical all the same. It seemed a storm of documents had once again savagely railed upon the furniture, threatening to engulf my friend's ankles where he stood in the midst of them. Holmes had a sheaf of papers in one hand, where he was examining with the most minute attention, and Jemima absently clutched in the other. This was evidently not much to the creature's liking, as she was uttering piteous mews, and struggling to be freed. I was about to attempt to forge a path to the sofa when, without once glancing up from the documents on which his attention was arrested, he said,

"Watson, if you would be so kind as to remove your foot from my draft monograph on the usefulness of animal behaviours in ascertaining certain points about crimes and criminal natures, I would be infinitely obliged to you."

I hastily shifted my foot. Jemima uttered another kittenish yowl of distress. Holmes threw his papers to the floor- all but one, which he placed on the breakfast table, where it disappeared into another large pile. How he ever found anything in these searches was completely beyond my comprehension.

"Everything is in its proper place, Doctor, have no fear."

Holmes, having again inexplicably followed the train of my thoughts, picked his way to the mantelpiece, whereupon finding he needed two hands to load his pipe, to my great amusement he thrust Jemima into the pocket of his dressing-gown.

With not a little care taken on my part I managed to get to the sofa. Holmes observed me from his chair, his eyes glittering through the smoke sent up by his pipe. As I sat down, I detected the gleam of Jemima's eyes peering at me from her hiding place amongst the mouse-coloured fabric.

"You were indeed fortunate to engage a cabby at this time, Watson. They do not get as many fares in Paddington as once they did. It is a fine thing when a man has to chase his mode of transportation through the streets, especially for a medical man already fatigued from a busy day!"

I had no doubt that he had discerned such facts from my person, and from my long acquaintance with him I should have been able to trace such statements to their source material. I was distracted, however, by his restrained manner and bright eyes, and what they signaled.

"You have a case then?"

He gave me one of those darting approximations of a smile I knew so well.

"Perhaps."

Jemima sprang free from her cloth prison and jumped down amongst Holmes' scattered files, her tiny tail flicking as she dived about them, flicking her ears at the rustles they made and inserting striped paws beneath them with playful swipes. Holmes watched her impassively, sending smoke curling up more thickly as she rolled about on the carpet before the fire.

I was on the edge of my seat waiting for particulars, but in my dismay nothing seemed further from his intentions as to enlightening me. Instead he began to ruminate on the behavior of cats, and how one might from their study gain an insight into the savage nature which lurks within all things.

"Witness, Watson, how she seizes upon the paper! With every bite she seeks the underside of the throat, and she kicks at it with her back legs. If this were a live creature, it would now be disemboweled and breathing its last. It is interesting to see that even those who are young, creatures bred in captivity, and irrevocably distanced from their homelands, still retain the terrible hunting instincts of their forebears. In this common housecat, echoes of the tiger can still be seen, and such observations may also be applied to the development of certain houses of men."

I saw something pass behind those sharp grey eyes, and realized all at once the mischief in his heart.

"You seek to distract me, Holmes! I shall have none of it –what of the case, man? I am all on fire with curiosity!"

"What! Then marriage has not fully succeeded in dousing the interest you once held in my little consulting business?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Well then, I shall delay no further in telling you the facts as I so far know them."

I could tell by the suppressed wriggle of his frame that he was well pleased by my admission. Gathering his long, thin legs beneath him, he leaned back silently in his chair, gathering his thoughts, and as Jemima hunted and sported through the documents that surrounded us, I could not help feeling the slow warmth of contentment spread all across me, for I had once again taken the plunge, and would now be rewarded.

Any reviews or concrit will be welcomed.

Thanks, Taluliaka.