Sherlock: The Knowing Of Cats
Title: The Knowing Of Cats
Wordcount: 380
Rating: G
Characters: Sherlock, John, Mycroft makes a text appearance
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: I own nothing you happen to recognize.
Summary: John may not be a stupid man but he is horribly amused at his friend's true nature.
"So, you're a cat then." John seemed amused, the emotion playing out rather obviously on his face as he sat at the couch with a cup of tea in his hands.
Sherlock was curled up in his chair, watching him with quick eyes that narrowed at the words. He wasn't a common house cat and he didn't like things being made to sound otherwise. "Cait Sidhe," he corrected, watching John for a flicker of recognition.
"All right," John says dryly. "I'll rephrase. You're a cat fairy. Better?"
His look of displeasure only seemed to amuse John further which, in turn, made Sherlock only more annoyed. It was a vicious cycle until, eventually, Sherlock got to his feet and walked out leaving John alone.
Once in his room, Sherlock pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to his brother.
He took it well
A few minutes later, he received a call but ignored it, waiting instead, for his brother to text him back, just as he knew he would given enough time.
Just as I said he would
Sherlock rolled his eyes. He had talked about the situation with Mycroft only once and it had been agreed that yes, John would probably take the situation well, as it didn't change anything but humans were strange, both of them knew that and they tended to get touchy over certain things. Neither of them were absolutely sure that John wouldn't be touchy about what he was.
You were just as uncertain as I was.
I said he would take it well.
They went back and forth fore several more texts, bickering about how sure each of them had been before there's a knock at his door and then the sound of footsteps walking away.
Sherlock set his phone down, approaching the door in a few quick, easy strides and opened it. There was a bowl of milk and a few slices of bread spread with honey waiting for him.
His heart lept forward and his mouth watered. A grin escaped him and he bend down to collect the offerings. It had been a long time since anyone had done such a thing for him and as he kicked the door closed, he really was certain that things were going to be fine.
Wordcount: 380
Rating: G
Characters: Sherlock, John, Mycroft makes a text appearance
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: I own nothing you happen to recognize.
Summary: John may not be a stupid man but he is horribly amused at his friend's true nature.
"So, you're a cat then." John seemed amused, the emotion playing out rather obviously on his face as he sat at the couch with a cup of tea in his hands.
Sherlock was curled up in his chair, watching him with quick eyes that narrowed at the words. He wasn't a common house cat and he didn't like things being made to sound otherwise. "Cait Sidhe," he corrected, watching John for a flicker of recognition.
"All right," John says dryly. "I'll rephrase. You're a cat fairy. Better?"
His look of displeasure only seemed to amuse John further which, in turn, made Sherlock only more annoyed. It was a vicious cycle until, eventually, Sherlock got to his feet and walked out leaving John alone.
Once in his room, Sherlock pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to his brother.
He took it well
A few minutes later, he received a call but ignored it, waiting instead, for his brother to text him back, just as he knew he would given enough time.
Just as I said he would
Sherlock rolled his eyes. He had talked about the situation with Mycroft only once and it had been agreed that yes, John would probably take the situation well, as it didn't change anything but humans were strange, both of them knew that and they tended to get touchy over certain things. Neither of them were absolutely sure that John wouldn't be touchy about what he was.
You were just as uncertain as I was.
I said he would take it well.
They went back and forth fore several more texts, bickering about how sure each of them had been before there's a knock at his door and then the sound of footsteps walking away.
Sherlock set his phone down, approaching the door in a few quick, easy strides and opened it. There was a bowl of milk and a few slices of bread spread with honey waiting for him.
His heart lept forward and his mouth watered. A grin escaped him and he bend down to collect the offerings. It had been a long time since anyone had done such a thing for him and as he kicked the door closed, he really was certain that things were going to be fine.