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Description
It was about two months since you had brought home (cat’s name) and he was growing exponentially. He was now almost the size of a full-grown cat, but still with the playfulness and attitude of the kitten he was.
Sherlock no longer seemed to mind if the kitten was out of your part of the flat, though he continued to shove the poor guy off of his lap when he went to lay there. John was always much friendlier, and when (cat’s name) decided to sit on his lap, he cordially allowed him to, and sometimes was even kind enough to pet him.
But, a cat was a cat, and cats, being contrary, almost always went for the ones they could just SENSE did not like them. So, to Sherlock’s lap he gravitated, and to the floor he was unfailingly pushed each time. And each time after he was so rudely shoved, he ran meowing to you for consolation. And each time, you scolded Sherlock for damaging your baby.
And each time, you’d have another row about why the creature was still here in the first place.
One such time, you were holding (cat’s name) gently in your arms as you plopped down beside Sherlock, practically steaming from the ears. “You know one day you’re going to do that and then he’ll hit something on the way down and really get hurt and I’ll hate you forever.”
“And I will promptly inform you that you should have taken my advice and put him up at the shelter.” He said smoothly, not missing a beat. The argument was practically rehearsed.
And then you decided to add something you had never said before whenever the issue came up. And you didn’t even know what made you say it. “Then I’ll make terrible cat-themed puns and jokes whenever I think of them for the rest of your life. And I’ll say them as I think of them. Imagine it, Sherlock, in the middle of a case… all is silent while you’re doing your deductions and all you hear is ‘I hope the purrfessor cancels class beclaws I'm just not feline up for it right meow!’ You think I won’t, Sherlock, but I will. Don’t underestimate me.” And even though you were talking about what was quite possibly the silliest thing Sherlock had ever heard, he had to admit the look on your face was making him nervous.
“You wouldn’t dare.” He narrowed his eyes at you, a smirk betraying him.
“Wait, she wouldn’t dare what?” John said, just coming into the room with a cup of tea.
“No, John you don’t know what you’ve done!” Sherlock warned a little too desperately.
“I gave Sherlock my word that the next time he hurts (cat’s name) I would unleash upon him a barrage of horrible cat-themed jokes. Like ‘Where did the kitties want to go for their class field trip? A mewseum!’” you said in complete seriousness. Sherlock groaned dramatically beside you and John simply blinked, rolling his eyes.
“Sherlock, don’t you dare hurt that cat, I won’t stand for this.” He sat in his usual chair and sipped his tea.
“But it’s okay, because here’s your chance to make up and be nice.” You held up (cat’s name), who meowed lightly and tried to paw at Sherlock, who frowned. But he sighed deeply and, rolling his eyes, took him from you, placing him on his lap and giving him a scratch behind the ear. You could hear your darling purring like a motor, leaning into the scratch. “Aww…” you grinned, leaning your head against his shoulder. Sure you were patronizing him, but the scene was cute. Well, as cute as Sherlock could be, even when a cat was added to the equation.
“Off, you! I don’t need the two of you on me at once.” He stopped scratching (cat’s name) and picked him up, handing him back to you. You took him into your arms, smirking.
“Your words say ‘annoyed’, but your tone says ‘embarrassed’.” You giggled. You glanced at John and saw that he was smirking as well.
“What does that even mean?” he growled, gesturing irately.
“Nothing~” you snickered to yourself and put (cat’s name) gently on the floor, going back to your room. But before you got to close the door, you froze and turned. “Oh and, Sherlock? ‘I’ve got a secret. Would you like me to whisker it to you? But you have to promise not to tail anyone.’”

Description
It was about two months since you had brought home (cat’s name) and he was growing exponentially. He was now almost the size of a full-grown cat, but still with the playfulness and attitude of the kitten he was.
Sherlock no longer seemed to mind if the kitten was out of your part of the flat, though he continued to shove the poor guy off of his lap when he went to lay there. John was always much friendlier, and when (cat’s name) decided to sit on his lap, he cordially allowed him to, and sometimes was even kind enough to pet him.
But, a cat was a cat, and cats, being contrary, almost always went for the ones they could just SENSE did not like them. So, to Sherlock’s lap he gravitated, and to the floor he was unfailingly pushed each time. And each time after he was so rudely shoved, he ran meowing to you for consolation. And each time, you scolded Sherlock for damaging your baby.
And each time, you’d have another row about why the creature was still here in the first place.
One such time, you were holding (cat’s name) gently in your arms as you plopped down beside Sherlock, practically steaming from the ears. “You know one day you’re going to do that and then he’ll hit something on the way down and really get hurt and I’ll hate you forever.”
“And I will promptly inform you that you should have taken my advice and put him up at the shelter.” He said smoothly, not missing a beat. The argument was practically rehearsed.
And then you decided to add something you had never said before whenever the issue came up. And you didn’t even know what made you say it. “Then I’ll make terrible cat-themed puns and jokes whenever I think of them for the rest of your life. And I’ll say them as I think of them. Imagine it, Sherlock, in the middle of a case… all is silent while you’re doing your deductions and all you hear is ‘I hope the purrfessor cancels class beclaws I'm just not feline up for it right meow!’ You think I won’t, Sherlock, but I will. Don’t underestimate me.” And even though you were talking about what was quite possibly the silliest thing Sherlock had ever heard, he had to admit the look on your face was making him nervous.
“You wouldn’t dare.” He narrowed his eyes at you, a smirk betraying him.
“Wait, she wouldn’t dare what?” John said, just coming into the room with a cup of tea.
“No, John you don’t know what you’ve done!” Sherlock warned a little too desperately.
“I gave Sherlock my word that the next time he hurts (cat’s name) I would unleash upon him a barrage of horrible cat-themed jokes. Like ‘Where did the kitties want to go for their class field trip? A mewseum!’” you said in complete seriousness. Sherlock groaned dramatically beside you and John simply blinked, rolling his eyes.
“Sherlock, don’t you dare hurt that cat, I won’t stand for this.” He sat in his usual chair and sipped his tea.
“But it’s okay, because here’s your chance to make up and be nice.” You held up (cat’s name), who meowed lightly and tried to paw at Sherlock, who frowned. But he sighed deeply and, rolling his eyes, took him from you, placing him on his lap and giving him a scratch behind the ear. You could hear your darling purring like a motor, leaning into the scratch. “Aww…” you grinned, leaning your head against his shoulder. Sure you were patronizing him, but the scene was cute. Well, as cute as Sherlock could be, even when a cat was added to the equation.
“Off, you! I don’t need the two of you on me at once.” He stopped scratching (cat’s name) and picked him up, handing him back to you. You took him into your arms, smirking.
“Your words say ‘annoyed’, but your tone says ‘embarrassed’.” You giggled. You glanced at John and saw that he was smirking as well.
“What does that even mean?” he growled, gesturing irately.
“Nothing~” you snickered to yourself and put (cat’s name) gently on the floor, going back to your room. But before you got to close the door, you froze and turned. “Oh and, Sherlock? ‘I’ve got a secret. Would you like me to whisker it to you? But you have to promise not to tail anyone.’”