Sherlock: One Shots & Headcanons

John & Shercat: One Shot

         I was inspired to write a BBC!lock version of MistyZeo's story "Feline in His Habits". You can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2541515 

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         "Sherlock, I'm home!" John Watson called as he came home from work. 

         "Mew!" he jumped. 

        "Sherlock? What the..." he asked dumbfounded, as he gazed at the black cat on the consulting detective's chair, its tail swishing around. There was his laptop sitting open on the table, but no sign of Sherlock. 

        "Sherlock? Did we get a new pet?" He tried again.

        "Meow," The cat replied. It jumped off the chair and ran to John. It brushed its furry little body up aganist the ex-army doctor's leg, as if to greet him.

          John cocked his head. The cat seemed pretty friendly to him, even though he was a stranger. John had a spilt second to realize the cat had blue-grey eyes...like Sherlock. And why did it have a little blue scarf around its neck?

        The cat then, without warning, jumped onto Sherlock's laptop. It urgently tapped its paw against the screen.

        John frowned. Did the cat know how  to read? It was ridicolous, but then again, stranger things could happen, right?

      He took the laptop and sat in his own chair, reading and walking at the same time. John frowned after reading the message on the laptop, then glanced at the cat gazing at him, then re-read it.

      "So you're saying Dr. Stapleton from Baskerville, did this to you, Sherlock?" The cat in Sherlock's armchair nodded curtly, mewing.

       "Dr. Stapleton?" John mused again, just letting it sink in. His best friend turned into a cat by the woman who helped them in Baskerville?
         The cat - Shercat, as it  was Sherlock in a cat's body - meowed impaintently and jumped off the armchair to strech his long, lean self.

       For a moment, John wondered if the real Sherlock Holmes would walk in, finding him babbling to a cat? Or worse: what if the Sherlock set this up himself and was lying in wait somewhere in 221B?

     No, John thought, Sherlock can be a dick, but he wouldn't do this to me. Shercat butted his hand. Without thinking, John began to scratch behind his pointy ears. Shercat purred in approval, almost with a smile on his face. As smiley as a kitty can get.

        "So I have to find Dr. Stapleton and demand that you get turned back into a human?" 

        Shercat nodded, eyes half closed.

        "Alright then," John didn't doubt that this cat was Sherlock. He certianly acted the same way.

        He grabbed his black tweed jacket and opened the door for Shercat. He padded out to the street silently.

        "Mrs. Hudson, we're going out!" John called.

        "Oh, congraulations! You and Sherlock are finally dating?!" Mrs. Hudson cried in glee.

        "I'm not gay!" John replied.

     "But he just said that they're going out," Mrs. Hudson said under her breath, dumbfounded, "They really need to sort out their feelings for each other."

        John tried to hail a cab, but to no avail; he didn't have Sherlock's skill in flagging them down. Shercat stamped his little paw on John's foot. He couldn't push him back. Shercat lifted his tail up and scurried across the road.

        "Sherlock!" John cried, eyes wide. It reminded him too much of the time they jumped in front of the bus, before Sherlock's fall. But the cab stopped, with Shercat unharmed. 

        He got into the cab, with Shercat bounding in after him. Shercat hopped into John's lap. 

       John handed the cabbie the note.

     The cabbie nodded. Shercat gently purred, getting up on his forepaws and looking around, observing  and deducing whatever he could. When he was satisfied, he laid his head back in John's lap. John began running his fingers over Shercat's head absently. This was going to be an interesting case, unlike any others.