Just a bit fluff for today. AU where Sherlock finds a kitten and John is a
I hope you like it!
One day Sherlock found a kitten.
Or the kitten found him.
It was a stormy day in April, and Sherlock was on his way home.
He ran down the street, his shoulders raised against the strong wind, and then he heard it.
A barely audible meowing coming from a car.
Frowning, he stopped and squinted, as he heard the sound again.
Hesitantly, he bent down and glanced under the car.
Out of the shadows, two wide open eyes flashed towards him, and he heard another, this time clearly frightened, moew. There was a small, shaggy kitten sitting there, huddled under the car.
“Oh,” Sherlock said quietly and went to his knees. “What are you doing down there?”
He cautiously reached out for the small bundle of fur. The kitten back a little, away from his fingers, and meowed miserably.
“It’s all fine,” whispered Sherlock. “I won’t hurt you.”
The kitten continued to gaze at him with wide-open eyes.
“Come here.” Sherlock stretched further under the car, and finally, the kitten cautiously sniffed his fingers. “That’s it, I’m not going to hurt you,” Sherlock said softly, stretching his second arm under the car too. When he took the kitten, it squealed, but didn’t try to run away. Sherlock pulled it out and frowned.
Bright, blue eyes looked at him from a dirty, grey face. The animal was very thin and ruffled. Sherlock could see blood on one leg. He sighed. “What am I going to do with you, huh?”
The kitten meowed softly and fidgeted with its paws.
“No, no, none of that,” Sherlock muttered, pressing the animal carefully against his chest. He got up and looked around the street, uncertain. The next moment he saw a sign with “veterinarian this way” and he sighed with relief.
“Let’s have you checked out, hm?"
John Watson had just treated his last patient - a bulldog with a heavy cold - as his assistant pooped into the room.
"There’s another one, doctor.”
John frowned. “Wasn’t that the last appointment for today?”
“Yes, the young man in the waiting room says it’s an emergency. Found a kitten on the street. ”
“Oh,” John nodded. “Call him in.”
The man, who stormed into the treatment room a few seconds later, took John’s breath away.
He was tall and slim. Dark curls hung wildly into his pale face, from which bright blue - no silver - or green? - eyes beamed. He had prominent cheekbones and full lips.
In his arms, he had a gray bundle of fur, that he passed over to John immediately. “Here.”
John blinked, completely puzzled, and cleared his throat. “Uhm, good evening, Mister …”
“Sherlock Holmes,” said the man impatiently. “Sherlock is enough.”
“Sherlock. You found the kitten … ”
“It was under a car. I heard it meowing.”
“It was very nice of you to bring the kitten here,” John said as he gently took the small gray kitten from Sherlock. “Not everyone cares for a lonely, hurt animal on the street.”
Sherlock glared at him, then shrugged. He seemed a bit embarrassed. “I … well, I thought it was just the logical decision to bring it here. Because, if it dies down there, it might attract flies.” He wrinkled his nose. “And … other vermin.”
“Sure.” John nodded and smiled. He didn’t believe for a second that the man didn’t care about the life of the tiny creature.
He weighed the kitten and did some basic examinations. It was a girl. Unhealthy, a little chilled and an injured leg. Fortunately, the wound was not inflamed. John disinfected it and bandaged it carefully. He also gave the cat the basic vaccinations she surely didn’t have.Then he smiled at Sherlock, who had watched the whole procedure silently.
“She’s not that badly off. She desperately needs something to eat and drink. I’ll give you antibiotics for the wound. ”
“I … Wait a minute, I can’t …” Sherlock looked puzzled and shook his head hastily. “I can’t keep her,” he muttered, looking aside.
“Why not? She seems to like you very much,” said John, laughing as the kitten clumsily marched on Sherlock and meowed emphatically. “You see? It seems to me that you have been chosen.”
Sherlock looked down at the kitten and frowned. “I don’t know if … my landlady … and …”
John laughed and picked up the kitten. He placed it back into Sherlock’s arms, who looked down into the small bundle of fur, who was beginning to snuggle up and comfortably closed her eyes. He swallowed.
“I’ll give you a carrier,” John explained. “And at the front desk you can get the medication.”
“I … thank you.” Sherlock lowered his head and smiled crookedly as the kitten rubbed her head against his chest.
For a moment, it was quiet.
For a moment, they were just standing there.
Then, John suddenly felt that he had to say something before it was too late. Before he let a chance pass, which might never come back. That he had to do something.
Before he actually realized it, the words were already out of his mouth.
“Would you like to have dinner tomorrow? I know a good Chinese … ”
Sherlock looked at him. With big, astonished eyes.
Great, Watson. Now you have screwed it up again …
John was so puzzled that he squeezed out a “what?”.
“Yes,” Sherlock repeated. “I’d like to have dinner with you.” And he smiled gently.
The kitten began to purr.
Corrected by my wonderful beta @bakerstreet-irregular
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