I'm Nova, don't worry, these are futuristic big cats so things work a little differently. xp Kudos for doing your research, though!
Thanks for the reviews! You guys are great. ^^ Sorry it took so long to get more up. I've been very busy. I do keep writing, but sometimes I can do just a couple lines a day, And I'm constantly rereading to check for mistakes, since I don't have a beta for this one. Hope I got them all. Enjoy!
Warning: more cat kinks ahead.
Big Game
The Blind Baboon part 3
When Sherlock finally allowed them to pause their investigation so John could eat, they continued to discuss all they had learned since discovering the symbol at the Lucky Cat.
"We know both Van Coon and Lucas were in China recently; Van Coon went to improve his Chinese and Lucas went to gather information for his information business which somehow kept him comfortable in spite of having no pack."
"And now we know that the symbol is a number, a sort of writing that used to be used by humans and is apparently still used by some animals from China," John said, after waiting until his mouth was clear. Then he dived in for another bite. He didn't understand how Sherlock could just sit there with food next to him.
"Van Coon didn't seem like a very successful businessman; he got himself in debt against his future share in the bank, but then he suddenly got in the clear again. I think it has something to do with the delivery he made."
"Mm, so he brought some'ing back from China? An' didn't give the lions tribute?"
"Yes... He and Lucas might well be smuggling in items that will soon have a high monetary value once the lions have established their banking system."
"So they're helping inflation get started before we even have money. But is that why they died?"
"No, no..."
"But why kill them after they've come back and made their deliveries...?"
"Perhaps someone got greedy."
"Ah." John sat back from his meal, sated for the moment. "So, something goes missing from the stash, the killer doesn't know who took it, so he threatens both Van Coon and Lucas... but why kill them both?"
Sherlock suddenly sprang up. "When did it rain again? Last night? Let me see..."
Regretfully, John left the last of his meal to the scavengers and hurried after Sherlock to the base of a huge baobab tree that grew beside a cave where there was a sign that said "Museum." He shook his head to reposition the little woven bag he had picked up at the Lucky Cat. He thought it might come in useful for gathering clues.
"This letter's been sitting here several days," Sherlock said, pointing out an envelope.
"How do you know that?"
"It was weighted down with a stone to keep it from blowing away, the writing is smudged from rain and the short grass underneath it is yellowed from lack of sun."
"So... someone lives in this tree, and they've been away?"
Sherlock stood with his front paws against the tree. "There seems to be a sort of woven mat... I suspect the tree is hollow and the mat is meant to cover the opening. But it's open just now..." He backed away from the tree, got an impressive running start and scrambled up among the branches on top of the huge trunk.
After staring a moment, John exclaimed, "Sherlock!" How am I supposed to get up there? I'm a good climber, but this thing is so big around... no way to get a good hold. Blast him!
Sherlock's faint voice drifted down to him, but he couldn't tell what he said.
John backed up and saw that Sherlock had disappeared from sight. Apparently the tree was hollow, then. "Think you can help me up this time?" he called. And when there was no answer, "Can you not keep doing this, please?"
Sherlock answered something, but again, he couldn't make it out.
"What are you saying?"
"Somebody's been here before me!" The voice was still muffled, but John could just understand a few words this time. Sherlock went on muttering about something...
John sighed. "I'm wasting my breath." He paced a bit. Then he called up at the tree, "Anytime you want to include me! No, I'm Sherlock Holmes, and I always work alone, because no one can compete with my massive intellect!"
He waited another minute or two with his back to the tree. Finally, Sherlock landed heavily on the ground beside him.
"Someone left here in a hurry," Sherlock choked.
"Someone?"
"Someone called Soo Lin." Sherlock nudged the envelope toward John, and the name was indeed scrawled messily on it. "We need to find her."
"How do we do that?"
"We can start at the museum next door." Sherlock coughed and wheezed.
"You all right? I don't think you're suited to climbing trees, Sherlock. It takes a lot out of you."
"I'm fine..."
Jim was in a good mood. He'd just heard that Irene Adler had taken up with an Agency Pride cadet. Agency wasn't as good as Royal, of course, but it was a step in the right direction. He missed the Serengeti, but the marshlands were growing on him. It was good to be a little closer to the lions, even though it was dangerous as well. It put him closer to the cheetah, too.
"When the new currency comes out, do you know what will happen?" Jim asked Sebastian cheerfully.
"What will happen?" Sebastian asked, doing a good job of sounding interested.
"I'll be fabulously rich."
"You're already fabulously rich, aren't you?"
"Well, I'm fabulous, at any rate." Jim tossed his spotted head and chuckled. "But this will be a new kind of richness. A more quantifiable kind. We can have buildings made. Good, defensible buildings. With soft beds. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Sebastian scanned the rocky surroundings as he did a hundred times every day. "Too many comforts make a cat soft, eventually," he said.
"Is that so?" Unnoticed by his bodyguard, Jim began to stalk a little closer. "How do you know that?"
"In the days when humans used to domesticate cats, they always became fat and lazy, unable to defend themselves..."
Jim sprang. As he flew at Sebastian's neck, the tiger turned and crouched under him so that Jim came down on his shoulder instead. They rolled against the rock wall and Jim nearly regained his feet, but then a huge paw struck him down and he was effectively pinned by the larger cat.
"I think you'll find that regular play sessions will keep your instincts sharp," Jim panted, grinning up at Sebastian.
A bird called, and soon he could hear Clem scrambling up the rocky path toward them.
Sebastian backed off, letting Jim up.
"Everything all right, boss?" Clem asked.
"Everything's fine," Jim said, not even looking at the hyena. "Go back to your post." He was almost purring. He had made a few non-serious attacks on underlings before, but Sebastian was the first to truly fight back. No one else had dared do much more than dodge. "No one's ever pinned me down before, you know."
"Am I in trouble?" Sebastian asked, not sounding the least bit concerned. He went back to the ledge and looked down over the marshland.
"Well, of course." Jim padded after him and nudged the tiger's shoulder with the top of his head. "I demand an apology."
"I apologize."
"No, like you mean it."
Sebastian looked like he couldn't decide whether to be amused or annoyed. He lowered himself to the ground and laid his head at Jim's paws. "Forgive me?" he asked, looking up with doleful emerald eyes.
Oh, he's good. "Of course," Jim said with a smile. He leaned down to lick Sebastian's ear.
Sebastian lifted his head and let Jim continue to lick him. The leopard was determined to touch every inch of that beautiful face with his tongue.
Jim paused. "Do you enjoy this?" he asked softly.
"Yes," Sebastian answered with his usual frankness.
"Would you like me to keep going?"
This time the tiger hesitated, just for a moment. "If you like."
Jim got down on Sebastian's level. "No, do you want me to?"
A longer silence. "Yes," Sebastian admitted at last.
Jim leaned in again and began licking down the striped neck very slowly. He heard Sebastian's breath catch now and then in the midst of the steady in-and-out. I won't push it yet. I'll give it a rest and try again when we're grooming after dinner. Keep him eager and not put-off. He smiled to himself as he worked, gradually getting to Sebastian's chest. Then he stopped and put his head down on the tiger's paws.
Sebastian regarded him a moment, perhaps wishing the attention hadn't stopped quite so soon. Then he rested his head on Jim's neck and closed his eyes for a light nap.
At the museum, John and Sherlock learned from Soo Lin's caracal admirer that she had resigned her position suddenly three days earlier. It was he who had left the letter for her under the baobab tree. The caracal was showing them around the Chinese exhibits Soo Lin had worked with when Sherlock spotted a statue adorned with yellow clay. It was the same symbol once again.
With this new clue, they left the museum, only to be approached by a certain bat-eared fox.
"Oh, look who it is," John muttered resentfully.
"Found something you'll like," the fox told Sherlock.
John trotted after the other two in the gathering darkness, growing even grumpier as they went. "Tuesday morning, all you have to do is show up and say it was your urine."
"Forget about your court date, John," Sherlock said. He seemed to be excited, more eager than ever to make progress. As they neared the marsh, he said, "I suppose if you're looking for a reed it makes sense to try the marsh."
John squinted in the dim light and saw that there were hundreds of paw and hoof marks around, marking up the soft earth and clay around the marsh. A lot of them looked deliberately placed—more messages like the one Raz had left on the Yard's territory. And there in the yellow clay by a clump of marsh grass was a symbol very similar to the one they'd been studying all day.
Sherlock sniffed the clay. "This is the same stuff. Let's see what else we can find. There must be more evidence. Anything we can use. Spread out."
A good distance from the others and a little way from the marsh, John spotted a section of cleared ground with a number of the strange symbols evenly spaced across it.
When he found Sherlock again, the cheetah had located a dirty leather pouch.
"I think our graffitist may have used this to carry the yellow clay," Sherlock told John excitedly.
"Never mind that," said John. "I've found a whole lot of the symbols. A big area of cleared ground..."
"Show me."
But when John found the spot again, the ground was clear. Not a mark in sight.
"It... it's been smoothed over." John sniffed the ground in confusion. "I don't understand. It was here not ten minutes ago..."
"Someone didn't want me to see it," Sherlock concluded. He turned John's face toward him with one paw.
"Oi, Sherlock..."
"I need you to concentrate, John. Close your eyes."
"What? Why?" John closed his eyes and felt Sherlock's paw steadying him by the shoulder. "Wha-what are you doing?!"
"You need to maximize your visual memory. Can you see what was here before?"
"Yes..."
"Can you see the pattern?"
"Yes?"
"Because the average cat's memory on vision alone is less than forty percent accurate."
"Yeah, well don't worry. I remember it all."
"Really?" Sherlock asked, doubt clear in his voice.
"Well, I would," John snapped, opening his eyes, "if I could get at my bag. I made a sketch."
Jim allowed himself to get messier than usual at dinner to give Sebastian more cleaning to do. He was pleased to see that Sebastian seemed to be a little bit careless as well, the white areas on his neck and chest acquiring a few smears of blood.
When he allowed Clem to drag the remains of the wildebeest carcase away he said, "I don't want any more business this evening. See that no one bothers me."
"Yeshir," Clem mumbled with his mouth full. He dragged the carcase down the path.
Jim went to sprawl on his zebra hide and did his best to keep a neutral expression as Sebastian came to join him. He began grooming Sebastian with his usual nonchalance, but tonight he was keenly aware of the feel of the tiger's broad, rough tongue on his coat. He licked more firmly and more quickly as he went.
Sebastian went about grooming Jim as he normally did, doing an efficient job... until, after a few minutes, Jim started licking down between his forelegs. The way Jim was positioned, he couldn't get at any part of him that really needed grooming, but the leopard didn't show signs of quitting anytime soon.
Jim nudged at him and Sebastian slowly rolled onto his side. Jim licked his sternum and along his rib cage down to the soft, vulnerable belly area. He heard the tiger's sharp breath and sensed him tensing... and then relaxing again. He nuzzled one of the small nipples and then touched it lightly with his tongue.
Every muscle in Sebastian's body tensed; he got onto his elbows so his front end was upright and he looked back at Jim with a mixture of reproach and wonder.
Slightly nervous but managing not to show it, Jim asked, "Is something wrong?"
Sebastian maintained his stare for what felt like a long time. Then he looked back toward the path and up around the rock face behind the ledge and back at Jim again. "No," he said at last. "Nothing's wrong." But he didn't lie back again.
Jim returned to lightly licking Sebastian's stomach and then he worked his way back to tease the nipple again. Sebastian's breath came out stuttered again and his legs tensed, but he held still. He gave the same reaction when Jim moved on to his inner thigh and down toward his testicles.
"Jim," Sebastian said in an uncharacteristically soft voice.
Jim paused, but didn't look up. "I seem to recall telling you to call me 'sir'."
Sebastian took a few deep breaths before saying in something more like his normal tone, "Yes, sir."
Jim smiled and continued his way, at last swiping his tongue very lightly over the sensitive scrotum and up the soft-furred sheath. He knew Sebastian's muscles were all tight like coiled springs. His claws grated against the rocky ground at the edge of the zebra hide. Come on. Come out for me. Jim nuzzled and licked until he could feel Sebastian hardening and little by little he began to emerge. Jim let his tongue slip down over the end of the fur and onto that slick surface...
Sebastian gasped and jerked away from Jim, his front claws tearing pebbles loose from the ground.
"Easy, Bastian," Jim said soothingly. He saw that he had lost ground, and he doubted he could tease him out again at this point. The shock of the foreign, rough tongue on such sensitive skin was a lot to take in. Instead, he dragged his tongue over another of Sebastian's tight, round nipples and began working his way back up.
Sebastian kept breathing hard until the leopard had gotten back up to his chest. Then he leaned down and Jim felt the hot breath in his ear and then his bodyguard's tongue sending hot, pleasant sensations through him from nose to tail.
Jim pushed Sebastian back flat on the ground again and wriggled between his front paws. They lay together for a few minutes without speaking. Then Jim said, "What did you think about that?"
Sebastian slid his paw over Jim's neck to his shoulder, perhaps stalling for time. "It was... different," he said.
"Worth trying again sometime?"
Another short hesitation. "Maybe."
"Something you might be able to try on me?"
A much longer silence. "If that's what you want."
Jim grinned and gave Sebastian's chest another lick. "We'll try it soon, then. But now it's time to sleep."
"Yes, sir." Sebastian nestled his chin against Jim's head.
Jim closed his eyes, still grinning to himself. Hiring this tiger was the best thing I've ever done.
Sherlock tried all morning to crack the code of strange Chinese symbols, but he finally determined that they would need to find Soo Lin the Asiatic cat if they were to learn what it really meant. So that afternoon, he and John headed back to the cave museum to talk to the caracal once more.
"Whoever the killer is, they're after Soo Lin now," John said, appealing to the caracal's emotions.
Sherlock was distracted by something about the artifacts they had been shown on their last visit. "Who's in charge of these things here?" he asked.
"Soo Lin was," the caracal confirmed. "No one's touched them since she left."
"Oh, but you're wrong. Someone has..."
"She took perfect care of them. Obsessively. Even the old leopard who runs this place didn't mess with them; he left it all to her."
"Well, someone's touched them since yesterday," Sherlock insisted. "They were arranged somewhat differently, I remember. Does the old leopard go to bed at dusk?"
"He does," the caracal confirmed.
"Fancy a stakeout, John?"
"No," John grumbled.
"Thank you, sir, you've been most helpful." Sherlock padded to the back of the cave and curled up on an oriental rug. "Come along, John."
Muttering about dusk being a good few hours away, John followed and dropped himself abruptly onto the rug beside Sherlock.
Somehow in the next hour or two, John fell asleep. Sherlock pulled his little friend a bit closer for warmth. Then he became still as a statue, waiting for Soo Lin to make her appearance.
There you are... another kinky cat sex scene. If it bothered you much, turn back now because it's not likely to get better. xp Please leave a review.