Sherlock was shaking by John's side and making the most pitiful mewling noises John had ever heard. He was clutched to John's arm and his eyes darted about, unable to focus on anything. John tried to keep calm for Sherlock's sake, but it was really hard considering Sherlock was about to go have sex with some random bloke. It didn't make it any easier that more random blokes were walking up and trying to feel up Sherlock. Sherlock hissed any time one of them touched him and John would tell them to get lost.
"You ok, Sherlock?" John questioned, as Sherlock started twitching.
"No!" Sherlock snapped, "What if he sees my tail?"
"Keep the lights off," John answered.
"What if he feels it?" Sherlock demanded.
"Sherlock, it's taped to your back," John assured him, "It'll be fine."
Sherlock let out a yowling noise and John turned back away, his face and crotch heating in anticipation. Sherlock turned slightly and started rubbing his ass against John, making pleading meows as he did so. John tried to think of something else as Sherlock rubbed against him, invitingly. After about a minute it was over with Sherlock making a frustrated hiss/growl noise in his throat.
"Why can't you just do it?" Sherlock whined for the millionth time.
"Dammit, Sherlock! I just can't!" John snapped.
Sherlock made a whimpering noise and John looked back at him. He could see where Sherlock's ears had flattened under his hat and his head was bowed. John sighed and put a hand under Sherlock's chin, lifting it so Sherlock looked at him.
"Do you really think a fumbled shag is what we need?" John mused, "That would just make everything worse. You'd have to see me every day. You'd never get over the embarrassment."
"Why would I be embarrassed that I had sex with you?" Sherlock questioned.
John laughed dryly and turned back away from Sherlock. Sherlock pawed at his shoulder (yes, pawed) until he turned back to look at him.
"What?" he asked tiredly.
"Why would I be embarrassed that I had sex with you?" Sherlock repeated firmly.
"Because, Sherlock," John started, anger rising inside him, "You're you, so sexy and beautiful and wonderfully smart. You are perfect in every way and you can do anything. And I'm not. I'm nowhere near that. I'm so far away from that I can't even see it, except when I get to see you. But I've already resigned myself that all I get to do is see it, I don't get to touch, because how could I possibly soil the perfection that you are? I would hate myself for it."
With that John looked away again, jerking his arm out of Sherlock's grasp. Sherlock stumbled slightly, but quickly righted himself. Sherlock didn't say anything for several minutes as John fought back tears.
"Let's go home," Sherlock finally said.
John didn't say anything; he merely stomped towards the door, assuming Sherlock would follow.
A week later, Sherlock was back to normal. He seemed quite pleased with himself too. John was also pleased: this meant he could finally get some sleep. Sherlock was up all hours of the night yowling out windows at stray cats. John didn't even want to think what would have happened if Sherlock had gotten a hold of one of those cats. His eyes flicked up from his laptop as he thought about it. Sherlock was sitting on the couch staring at something on the coffee table. His ears twitched occasionally, but for the most part he didn't seem all that anxious or irritable. Though, he did look a little angry.
John watched as some internal struggle played across Sherlock's face. His fingers were steepled under his chin as always and he was focusing on something in particular. John noticed he was wearing the silk purple shirt that he loved so much. His tail was waving around behind him, but it didn't seem agitated. John was really starting to wonder what was going on. He looked at the object that Sherlock was focused on. He tried to stop himself, but he couldn't help it: he burst out laughing. Sherlock looked up, his concentration breaking in surprise.
"What?" he demanded, "What's so funny?"
John shook his head and rubbed at his tearing eyes, trying to calm himself.
"You're trying to decide whether or not to play with that ball of yarn," John giggled, "Aren't you?"
Sherlock blushed profusely.
"No! Of course not!" Sherlock answered in a near shout, "Wh-what, why would I be doing that?!"
"Oh, Sherlock," John said, wiping at his eyes again, "Just do it."
Something seemed to snap inside Sherlock as he snatched up the ball of yarn, with a strangled meow. John suppressed his laughter, but grinned brightly as Sherlock proceeded to play with the ball of yarn. John watched the look of delight on Sherlock's face as the ball went flying and he scrambled after it.
John tried to go back to what he was doing, but he couldn't. Instead he watched Sherlock roll around with the ball of yarn, getting more and more tangled up in it. John started to see that Sherlock was going to need a savior pretty soon, so he shut down his laptop and put it away. Sure enough, Sherlock let out a strangled yelp a little while later. He tugged at the yarn that now tangled all around him and then looked over at John with wide eyes.
"John, I'm stuck," he said quietly.
John grinned and went over to where Sherlock lay on the floor. He knelt beside him and started untangling Sherlock from the mess. It wasn't an easy feat, as the detective had managed to knot the yarn and have it tangled all the way around him. John sighed as he pulled at the yarn.
"Shall I just get the scissors, Sherlock?" John asked.
"B-but then the ball will be messed up," Sherlock said.
John looked up to see that Sherlock was serious and actually had tears in his eyes.
"Oh, Sherlock," John said, smiling softly, "I can get you another one."
Sherlock brought his hands up with some difficulty and rubbed away the tears.
"Ok, get the scissors," he said in defeat.
John hugged him briefly before jumping up to get the scissors. When he returned, Mycroft was hovering near the door and Sherlock looked like he might actually start bawling. He edged forward and dropped down by Sherlock.
"So…experiment gone wrong?" Mycroft questioned Sherlock.
John kept out of it, deciding to instead start freeing Sherlock from the yarn.
"The ears or the yarn?" Sherlock questioned tiredly.
"Both," Mycroft answered.
"Yes, mostly the ears and tail though," Sherlock admitted, "The yarn just sort of happened."
"I see," Mycroft said in that cold way of his, "Female DNA?"
"Yes," Sherlock answered.
"Explains why you were where you were last week," Mycroft said, "Be careful, it happens every 1 to 3 weeks."
John's hands clenched as the words were spoken.
"You mean the heat?" he demanded, "That happens every 1 to 3 weeks?"
"Yes, if a cat doesn't mate," Mycroft replied, "She'll go through it every 1 to 3 weeks. Once she's out of season she'll be fine. Unfortunately, though, cats that aren't allowed to mate and don't become pregnant, have heat seasons that are on more than they're off."
There was a long pause while everyone in the room considered what that meant. Then Sherlock spoke up.
"I need to be spayed," he stated firmly.
Little note: I did research...I hated what I found. Please, dear lord, spay and neuter your pets. They can get really sick if you don't. Not to mention you have to deal with an obnoxious animal practically all the time. So yeah...anyway, I hope you liked it. Love you all for all your support!
