Chapter Text
The next day, Sherlock seemed to have taken what John said to heart. As soon as John entered the kitchen that morning to make breakfast, he left the flat to go get supplies. Since then, Cass busied herself with getting familiar with her new, enclosed surroundings. Sometimes she called out to John when she found something particularly arresting.
“He has a concerning amount of books on poisons, John.”
“I hope he knows that I don’t care how fragile his equipment is. If it’s in my way, I’m knocking it down!”
“John, is that a riding crop!?”
Despite her comments and quips, John ignored her in favor of enjoying his day off by having breakfast and writing a new blog entry. He only paid attention when Mrs. Hudson came up and found her, then preceded to coo and coddle her.
“I don’t like to be held, John!” Cass complained while in Mrs. Hudson’s arms. “You know this! Plus, she smells kind of funny!”
John, of course, ignored her as he talked to Mrs. Hudson, which was hard to do since sometimes they talked over each other. After some more coddling, Mrs. Hudson then proceeded to examine the kitchen, to tidy and make sure nothing was broken, and she left.
“You ignored me that whole time, John.” Cass stated as she leapt up on the table to sit next to his computer. “That wasn’t polite.”
“I couldn’t necessarily address you with Mrs. Hudson in the room.” John said simply, brow furrowing as he stared at the screen. “She’d find it a wee bit strange.”
“You know, that’s the problem with you humans.” Cass stated, sniffing at his now-lukewarm tea. “Whenever someone’s different, or unique, you ostracize them immediately. Us animals are more carefree.”
John snorted.
“What, don’t believe me?” She inquired as she rested her chin on the edge of his computer screen. “Fine then. Name one thing that makes us the same, or worse.”
“If your young are touched from someone on the outside, you eat them or neglect them completely.” John stated simply. “Not to mention some animals with supposed defects are rejected from their packs.”
“I didn’t eat my young!” Cass protested. “Plus, those are rodents! And wolves…”
John just gave her a look.
“Fine, fine.” Cass said after a moment. “We each have our problems. Maybe I’m biased, but I don’t see why people would make a big deal out of you.”
“There aren’t a lot of people who can talk to animals.” John stated simply. “Anyone who heard that I could would think I’ve had a psychotic break.”
“Not Sherlock…” Cass murmured, getting another look from John. “Okay, okay. No telling your friend and flatmate that you’re gifted.”
John fought back the urge to scoff at her. Granted, yes, being able to communicate with animals was something that people could see as a gift, but in general, people just thought of it as being part of a mental illness or a brain tumor. Of course, John went through all the tests before the war, and he was deemed absolutely fine. Still, it was best not to draw attention to it, or things could become problematic.
“That should be a rule…” John muttered as he continued typing away.
“Wassat?” Cass inquired as she stretched out as much as she could on the table, knocking some old papers aside and not caring in the slightest.
John sighed, standing to clean up her mess. “A rule.” He stated more clearly. “Aside from the general rules that you’ll have to abide if you’re living here, there’s going to be rules between us.”
“Like what?”
“Like talking.” John said, stacking the files out of Cass’s current lounge spot. “I can’t respond to you if someone’s in the room. Or in the next room.”
Cass sat up slightly. “Isn’t that excessive?”
“Basically, if someone could hear us, don’t expect me to talk to you.” John said firmly.
Cass seemed to heave a great sigh. “As long as you don’t use that ridiculous baby talk.” She replied. “There’s only so much a girl can take.”
“Have I ever addressed you like that?” John asked as he sat back down to work.
“Only when you want to piss me off.” She replied, and John couldn’t help but grin at that.
“All right.” John said. “No baby talk, and no behavior that could cause it to be discovered. If you’re good on that, I’ll even see if I can get Sherlock to give you something fishy.”
Cass perked. “Like tuna?”
“Maybe, but not everyday.” John continued. “Just every once in a while.”
“He’s going to make me eat that generic stuff, isn’t he? Those brown dried bits and that mush…” Cass groused as she rolled over. “I guess it’s not too bad. Steady meals every day and all. Plus, I got a home now… and I never had a home before…”
John felt something claw at his chest as he paused, turning to the calico as she looked at him. He couldn’t help but grin. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”
“Yeah…” She breathed, then purring when John reached over to scratch at her head. When he retreated back to his writing, she immediately protested. “Hey, what’s the deal? You’re not done! We were having a moment! You should do my ears next…”
John was about to retort when he heard the door open and close. “Go bother Sherlock for that.”
“Oh my god, finally!” She cried, leaping off the table and running off, and John couldn’t help but chuckle at the chaos that seemed to erupt downstairs.
“John! Cass is downstairs! She could’ve run off!”
“As if I’d run off, you tall, gangly, pretty-boy! Now what did you get me?”
“Help me bring these things up, John!”
“A cat bed? You think I’ll sleep in that thing? I’d rather sleep in a flower bed! This isn’t going to stop me from sleeping in the actual beds! Besides, it’s plaid!”
John couldn't help but snort at the commotion going on downstairs. He was half tempted to leave Sherlock to deal with everything on his own as payback for all the times he had to carry things up on his own, but he thought better of it. Instead, he stood and headed downstairs to assist Sherlock in carrying up his overabundance in cat things.
Most of the bulk was caused by the copious amount of fake mice, and John didn't know why he wasn't as surprised as he should be.