Fluffy Surprise 3/3noirrosaleenMarch 21 2011, 07:59:32 UTC
"So, why didn't I get to know about them?" John persists. Sherlock drops his gaze, looking even guiltier than before. "I...didn't want you to become attached. It's difficult, sometimes, for people to let go of kittens that they've raised, and I wasn't certain if you could handle endlessly giving up kittens. I know I'm...unusual in that regard."
"All right, I suppose that makes sense," John sighs, rubbing a hand through his hair. "So...are there any left, or was that the last of this bunch?" he asks, feeling slightly hopeful.
Smiling, Sherlock beckons. "There are still three, and when I went in to get Prospero they were highly intent on the squeaky mouse."
three months later
"I don't understand why Mrs Hudson isn't taking on this role," Mycroft says, looking uncomfortable as a black-and-white kitten batted his trouser leg. His office has suddenly developed an invasion of kittens, and John turns from setting up the litterbox to grin at him.
"Mrs Hudson is visiting her sister in Kent, and John and I must fly out in four hours for Belfast," Sherlock announces, looking bored. "Stop trying to wriggle out of it, Mycroft, it's only a week and your PA is perfectly capable of helping you out with the more energetic ones." He smirks at his brother, who is starting to look mildly horrified. "Honestly, though, chasing after kittens would probably help you lose that two kilos you've put on in the last few weeks, clearly the meetings with the Korean delegation has been interfering with your exercise programme."
John stands up, brushing his hands off, and checks his watch. "Three hours and forty-five minutes, Sherlock, we really must be going," he says, sounding not at all apologetic as he nods at Mycroft. The older Holmes had sank back into his plush chair and the black-and-white kitten had taken that as an invitation to conquer his lap, curling up in a ball and immediately starting to purr like a large engine.
"Right. Afternoon, Mycroft," Sherlock says, turning on his heel and neatly dodging the tiny marmalade blur that had bounded across the room at kitten-sonic speed. The door closes behind them on an increasingly panicked-looking Mycroft, and a few moments later his PA passes them at high speed, looking as if she is desperately attempting to not have a fit of the giggles. John grins at her as she hurries by, then looks at Sherlock. "I'm guessing the brown tortie is for her?" he guesses, and is rewarded by a twinkle in Sherlock's eye.
"You're starting to get an eye for this, John; perhaps I should get cards for you as well," he says, a note of approval in his voice. "Giving the white-fronted tabby to Molly was a stroke of genius, he was beginning to become a young cat and I genuinely couldn't figure out who would want him...although why she'd change his name from Benedictus to something as pedestrian as Toby is quite beyond me."
"Bets for Mycroft taking Cleopatra?" John asks, ignoring the name comment. It isn't their business what the names are changed to after they find a home for the kittens, and "Benedictus" really is a mouthful for an everyday cat's name. He hasn't mentioned to Sherlock that she'd kept it as Toby's particular name; Sherlock had sniffed at the book of poetry John had tried to give him as "boring," and John had tucked it onto his side of the bookshelf.
"I rather count on it," Sherlock replies, and they grin at each other as they walk out of the building to the waiting cab.
Re: Fluffy Surprise 3/3noirrosaleenMarch 30 2011, 07:47:42 UTC
Our smallest cat can still achieve something close to this speed, even though she's almost 2&1/2 now. Of course, Itteh Bitteh Kitteh is probably 6 lbs, tops, so...
Re: Fluffy Surprise 3/3noirrosaleenMarch 23 2011, 06:25:59 UTC
Wow, congratulations on totally making it believable that Sherlock keeps kittens! (I am the anon who commented earlier, imagining Sherlock tipping a box of kittens out the window. But I totally buy this! It's so cute!!)
Re: Fluffy Surprise 3/3noirrosaleenMarch 30 2011, 07:51:19 UTC
Glad you like! ^_^ I wish I could foster, but I've got 3 already and the eldest is *still* not keen on the younger girls, so...*shrugs* Plus I'm currently going through chemo, so I doubt I could keep up with them ATM.
"All right, I suppose that makes sense," John sighs, rubbing a hand through his hair. "So...are there any left, or was that the last of this bunch?" he asks, feeling slightly hopeful.
Smiling, Sherlock beckons. "There are still three, and when I went in to get Prospero they were highly intent on the squeaky mouse."
three months later
"I don't understand why Mrs Hudson isn't taking on this role," Mycroft says, looking uncomfortable as a black-and-white kitten batted his trouser leg. His office has suddenly developed an invasion of kittens, and John turns from setting up the litterbox to grin at him.
"Mrs Hudson is visiting her sister in Kent, and John and I must fly out in four hours for Belfast," Sherlock announces, looking bored. "Stop trying to wriggle out of it, Mycroft, it's only a week and your PA is perfectly capable of helping you out with the more energetic ones." He smirks at his brother, who is starting to look mildly horrified. "Honestly, though, chasing after kittens would probably help you lose that two kilos you've put on in the last few weeks, clearly the meetings with the Korean delegation has been interfering with your exercise programme."
John stands up, brushing his hands off, and checks his watch. "Three hours and forty-five minutes, Sherlock, we really must be going," he says, sounding not at all apologetic as he nods at Mycroft. The older Holmes had sank back into his plush chair and the black-and-white kitten had taken that as an invitation to conquer his lap, curling up in a ball and immediately starting to purr like a large engine.
"Right. Afternoon, Mycroft," Sherlock says, turning on his heel and neatly dodging the tiny marmalade blur that had bounded across the room at kitten-sonic speed. The door closes behind them on an increasingly panicked-looking Mycroft, and a few moments later his PA passes them at high speed, looking as if she is desperately attempting to not have a fit of the giggles. John grins at her as she hurries by, then looks at Sherlock. "I'm guessing the brown tortie is for her?" he guesses, and is rewarded by a twinkle in Sherlock's eye.
"You're starting to get an eye for this, John; perhaps I should get cards for you as well," he says, a note of approval in his voice. "Giving the white-fronted tabby to Molly was a stroke of genius, he was beginning to become a young cat and I genuinely couldn't figure out who would want him...although why she'd change his name from Benedictus to something as pedestrian as Toby is quite beyond me."
"Bets for Mycroft taking Cleopatra?" John asks, ignoring the name comment. It isn't their business what the names are changed to after they find a home for the kittens, and "Benedictus" really is a mouthful for an everyday cat's name. He hasn't mentioned to Sherlock that she'd kept it as Toby's particular name; Sherlock had sniffed at the book of poetry John had tried to give him as "boring," and John had tucked it onto his side of the bookshelf.
"I rather count on it," Sherlock replies, and they grin at each other as they walk out of the building to the waiting cab.
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I tell you though, fostering kittens without their mother is a messy (smelly!) business!
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Glad you liked! ^_^
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This is made of adorbs.
Sherlock + kittens = best thing in all the land!
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