Johnlock Oneshots (fluff)

10) Cat

Word count: 677
*Sherlock's POV*

I meowed at the big black door, trying to get someone's attention so I could be let in and away from the rain. I clawed at the paint, and it swung open slightly hesitantly. I dashed in, not bothering to properly look at the old woman looking down at me. There was a set of stairs in front of me, which I ran up and through another door, curling up in front of a crackling fire, absorbing the warmth and dry.

"Oh, hello! Who are you?" A soft voice sent my attention towards a smiling blonde man crouched down next to me. He held out his hand for me to sniff. I headbutted it in a welcome and he stroked me, scratching behind my ears and looking at my black, flea-ridden fur.

"John, I don't know who's cat that is, but it just ran inside," the old lady had appeared in the doorway. So the man's name was John? I liked it.

"I think he's a stray, Mrs Hudson... he has fleas and has barley eaten in a while, plus he has no collar at all," John sighed, and lifted me up gently, carrying me to the bathroom and placing me in the sink.

"I'll get him a saucer of milk and we can buy him cat food tomorrow until we can find a shelter to take him in," Mrs Hudson said, "but tell him that I'm his landlady, not his housekeeper."

"I'm keeping him. He's called Sherlock," John replied, running the tap and scrubbing some soap on me. I mewed in protest of more water, but didn't try to jump out or scratch him. I didn't want him changing his mind about keeping me.

.

*John's POV*

I scrubbed Sherlock dry with a big fluffy towel and fed him some milk, which he lapped down hungrily. His fleas were still there, but there weren't so many now. I'd take him to the vet tomorrow to get some proper treatment. I layed out one of my jumpers in front of a radiator in my bedroom, which he curled up on, and we both went to sleep, warm and safe.

The morning rolled around, and I woke up to Sherlock mewing at the end of my bed, staring at me from his seat my duvet. I rubbed my eyes, yawning and ajusting to the bright sunlight streaming through my blinds. Wait, didn't I close the blinds? I looked over. They had been torn down and were now tangled in a messy pile on the floor. I turned my attention back to my new cat, who looked at me impatiently, waiting for me to get up and feed him. This pet would be a lot of work to take care of.

After running around the flat attempting to catch Sherlock for over an hour, I had finally managed to bundle him into a carrier from Mrs Hudson and drive him over to the nearest veterinary clinic. A young man soon welcomed me into a ward, where he gave Sherlock some flea treatment, as well as other medicines to protect him, and gave him a general check up, which he didn't seem to happy about. I paid the bill and carried him back out to the car. He meowed loudly all the way home in protest.

On the way home I stopped at the shops, picking up some cat food, treats and toys for Sherlock as he waited impatiently in the car. I bought him a variety of different puzzle games and scratching pads for cats; I didn't want our entire flat to be as sabotaged as the blinds had been this morning. I payed and presented Sherlock's new things to him through the carrier, which in response he stuck one of his silky black paws through the grids and batted a blue mouse with white feathers on. I grinned at him. Although he may be a lot to put up with, and very difficult to keep out of trouble, he was my best friend already, and I was grateful for him.