I didn't intend for this to happen, but these crazy cats are still running around in my brain... so KittenPressure continues. I hope you like it.

Thanks go to my beta MizJoely for all her help.

I own nothing, well not nothing, but you get my point.

Martin ran down the hall as fast as his little legs could carry him and jumped onto the settee, right onto a sleeping Toby, finally waking the seemingly comatose cat. Martin had been trying to wake up his new friend for at least ten minutes. First he had made several passes, meowing loudly. When that didn't work he hopped up next to him and nuzzled him with his head. Toby had simply stretched and readjusted his position. Frustrated and bored, Martin resorted to more kitten-like behavior; pouncing on him with abandon.

"For God's sake, Marty!" Toby bellowed as he attempted to right himself. "Did you get into the catnip again? Nothing like a young cat on a bender." Now sitting up fully, almost regally, he eyed the younger feline. "No, it appears not. Good thing though, I've seen many bright minds lost to the nip."

"I'm bored Tobs."

"Don't... call me Tobs."

"Molly does, why can't I?" young Martin asked.

"If I had the ability to communicate my distaste for that name to our human, I would do so... and often, until she stopped." Toby paused to clean his paw. "I can, however, express to you that if you don't stop you'll find yourself on your own next time our little mouse friend shows her face."

Martin grimaced. The mouse in question was not what he would consider 'little' at all. As a matter of fact she was most definitely a rat. Small for a rat, but a nasty, devious rat nonetheless. She scared Martin half to death. "I don't like her long tail or big ears. And I don't like how she makes fun of me. I just don't like her." Martin said.

"Nor does she you. But she seems to like verbally sparing with me and that keeps her from nibbling the ends of your ears off at night," he said with a smirk.

The younger cat shuddered.

Toby rolled his eyes. "Oh Martin, you don't actually think I'd ever let her harm you, do you?"

"She's... dangerous Toby. I wish she wouldn't come round."

"I wouldn't worry about Carol, she harmless. Just a bit menacing. It's all in how she carries herself. Don't let her intimidate you. She can practically smell it on you. You need more confidence, my young friend." Toby jumped down from the settee and strutted into the kitchen.

"How am I supposed to be more confident?" Martin asked as he trailed behind the large gray cat.

Toby ignored him and focused all his attention on the small bit of tuna left in his dish, finishing it off with a loud purr. He turned back to Martin and said, "I will teach you lad. Have no fear."

Martin's 'lessons in confidence' had been going... they'd been going... Toby tried to teach the young cat how to hold himself, how to carry himself and most of all how not to take any guff from one cranky old mouse (though she really was a rat). He wouldn't have admitted it aloud, but over the three months since the new cat's arrival, he'd grown somewhat attached to the ginger. Molly worked long hours, she was also spending more and more time with the detective bloke. It was nice to have someone to chat with, even if Martin was hardly on the same level with Toby as far as intelligence was concerned. They were friends, if for no other reason than proximity.

Three days into 'confidence training' Molly was working late again, and the boys were enjoying a leisurely early evening nap, when a sharp slap to the face woke Martin up with a start.

"Not the good-bye chamber!" he shouted as he opened his eyes.

His distress woke Toby who immediately saw the source of the problem. He also saw young Martin repeatedly licking a slightly injured nose. "Carol the Mouse!" He said standing up and stretching. "Any particular reason you're gracing us with your presence this evening? Or has striking young cats become some kind of past-time of yours?"

"I'm a rat damnit! And I was simply getting the lads attention," she said as she whipped her tail a little too close to Martin's face once again. "I was bored. I thought perhaps I'd come see how my favorite couple was doing?"

Toby rolled his eyes. "I honestly have no idea what you are talking about."

"Ahh, but I think you do," she said with a sinister smile.

"Martin and I are both male and neutered. And are not in any kind of relationship, mouse."

"Being two males doesn't stop Tom and Tom down the street. But that brings up a delightful point. Neutered. Hmmm, must be humiliating for you two have the twig and no berries. The frank and no beans. The meat and no veg."

"Yes, we get your message, mouse."

"Are you certain? I do have more," she said with another swish of her tail.

Toby looked her over with an appraising eye. "You know, I do believe your ears are actually getting bigger. I wouldn't have thought it possible. Careful next time you step outside, a strong wind and you might just take flight."

Carol huffed in annoyance. "It's a mark of my breed. But you wouldn't know anything about breeding, being a common short hair. Nothing special about you at all."

The entire time Martin was keeping to himself; trying to seem as small as possible, hoping to escape the notice of the overly aggressive rodent.

"Ah, little Marty," she sneered as she turned her attention to the younger cat. "Still small for your age, I see."

"I-I'm gr-growing," Martin tried to puff out his chest and remember the things Toby had taught him, but the stammering didn't help matters.

"The runt of the litter I'd imagine. Yes, I've seen it before. You'll be a tiny thing. Probably mistaken for a female more often than not. That will lead to an inferiority complex, if one doesn't already exist."

Toby pulled a face. "Where the hell did that nonsense come from? Have you made your home in some low rent psychiatrist's office, or have you been watching reality telly again?" he questioned as he jumped down, then motioned for Martin to follow.

When he caught up with the older cat in the hallway Martin asked, "How does she keep getting in?"

"I don't know that it really matters, Martin. Rodents get in the way they get in. Just stay strong, remember your training. You're not weak, Martin... You're confident and strong. A proud feline, she's just a mouse." He whipped back around to face Carol as she had, of course, followed the pair.

"It's impolite to whisper, but I wouldn't expect a couple of cats to understand basic etiquette. Especially one from a shelter, was it? Mere minutes from euthanasia, I assume. But really what could I expect from the pair of you, trapped in this dismal box of a flat," she said looking a down the hall into the rooms. "I'm sure you envy my freedom, my ability to come and go as I please. Which is why I'm given no real respect."

"Now listen... you rotten old rat," Martin started, taking a quick glance at Toby. "You come into our home, insult it, beat me with your tail..."

"It was a tap," she interrupted.

"It hurt! And you insult us and our missing... bits and... such. Well, you're not welcomed here. Molly would be upset if she comes home to fine a rat in her hallway so..."

(All three animals had been quite preoccupied and not really paying attention to the noises coming from the other room. Or the approaching humans.)

"Ah ha! Gottcha!" Suddenly Carol was enclosed in a small box, leaving both Toby and Martin stunned.

"Was that a big mouse, Sherlock?" Molly asked.

"No, just a very small rat. A female, I imagine," he replied.

"Well go, take it out to the alley. I don't want it to bite one of the boys."

He turned to quickly face her. "No, let me keep it."

"Sherlock, it's a rat, for heaven's sake. You can't keep a some wild rat as a pet," Molly replied with her hands on her hips.

Toby puzzled as to why Sherlock would need Molly's permission to keep a rat at his flat...

"But they actually make great pets and she's not wild," he said as he looked into the box. "Dumbo Eared rats are sold by breeders and pet stores. She's escaped... a smart little thing."

"Do you think that I'm going to live with some poor rat you keep around just to perform experiments on? NO! Let her go, it's cruel." Molly started to walk away.

Sherlock's face fell. "I wasn't going to perform experiments on her. I've learned," He looked down at Toby. "Pets aren't for experimentation."

Toby shivered as he remembered the food coloring incident of 2012.

"So you want to keep this rat, that you found in my flat?"

"You have two cats, Dr. Seuss. It's only fair." He looked back inside the box. "And, besides, she seemed to get along well with the boys."

Molly smiled and Toby knew exactly what she was smiling about; Sherlock's sudden need to refer to him and Martin as 'the boys'. That's when he knew the rat was staying.

"What's going on Toby?" Martin asked.

"Well, where do I start? With the fact that clearly Sherlock and Molly have decided to cohabitate or that Carol has be taken as one of the family?"

"No! She'll be living here? Permanently?" Martin whined.

"I haven't figured out where we'll be living yet, Marty. But yes, it seems Molly's fella is keen on keeping the mouse as a pet."

"What am I going to do? She's bad enough when she comes round every once in a while."

"Ah, see this is where my experience is an advantage. I came from a pet store. And I happen to know that pet rats are kept... in a cage," Toby said with a slightly evil smile.

Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think. I'm pretty sure I have one more story for our little friends. Come play with me on tumblr... same name. ~Lil~