An Exception to the Rule
As John walked outside on a cold November morning, he didn’t expect to see a small, black kitten waiting for him on the doorstep. He stopped immediately in the doorway when he saw it, and stared at it in surprise. The little creature lifted its head at the sound of the door opening, and looked up at John with a sort of mock surprise. He furrowed his brow at the kitten and looked around the fairly busy street as if expecting to find its owner. No one else seemed to be particularly interested in the cat, so John cautiously bent down to lift the animal into his hands.
The kitten mewled softly at the contact, but didn’t try to run as John lifted it up. He held it in front of his face for a moment, smiling. “Hey, little one,” he said softly, making his way back into the house and closing the door again. The store could wait.
In a matter of seconds, John was walking back into the flat, where Sherlock was still standing by the window, his violin propped up against his shoulder. He was playing a soft tune that John didn’t recognize, and the kitten’s ears perked up at the sound of it. “Sherlock,” John said as he ambled into the room, “Look at what I’ve found.” John went to sit in his chair and placed the kitten on his lap. Sherlock turned around slowly, obviously more than a little annoyed to have been interrupted, but seemed shocked as he laid eyes on the kitten. John only smiled up at him and stroked a hand down the kitten’s back. “Poor thing was lying on our doorstep, all alone.” Sherlock didn’t say anything, so John went on playing with the kitten as it pawed at his hands. “It was freezing outside, so I brought it in. I hope you don’t mind?”
Sherlock surveyed the cat skeptically, then finally waved it off and walked towards the kitchen. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with my work.”
The next morning, John woke up to find the kitten lying on his pillow, curled around the back of his head. As soon as he woke, the kitten stirred, stretching its slender limbs and yawning. John sat up and stretched as well, chuckling at the tiny creature. He was already growing to like the kitten, but he knew he should put an ad in the paper about it, in case someone was looking for him. Or was it her? He realized suddenly that he had no idea. The kitten crawled across his lap then, settling down in between John’s knees and looking up at him with wide eyes. John smiled and reached down to scratch behind the kitten’s ear before gently turning it over to its back.
“Ah,” John said, chuckling lightly as the kitten rolled back over, “Looks like I’ll have to think of something to call you then, little princess.” The kitten perked her ears up at him, as if trying to understand what he was saying. John grinned. “I guess I’ll just call you ‘Princess,’ then.” She mewled at him, then playfully got to her feet and bounded down to the floor. John followed suit, but she left without him while he dressed himself. As soon as he walked back downstairs, he began looking for her. She was nowhere to be seen, but his flatmate was still in the same place in which he had left him the night before; sitting at the kitchen table, in front of his microscope. “Morning, Sherlock,” John breathed, getting down on the floor to check under the couch.
“John,” Sherlock replied, barely breaking his focus from the experiment at hand. John continued searching for Princess, growing a little worried when he could not find her. Finally, he reluctantly turned to his flatmate.
“Sherlock, have you seen Princess?”
Sherlock raised his head slowly, a look of confusion on his face, and turned to look at John. “Princess?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
