Work Text:
Sherlock’s phone rang just as he was at the critical stage of an experiment.
“Stick it on speakerphone,” he called out to John, who obliged, from force of habit.
“It’s SH, whoever that may be,” John told him.
“Stanley,” Sherlock called.
“Sherlock, I don’t know what to do,” Stanley’s voice came over the phone.
“What’s happened?” Sherlock had stopped in the middle of noting down his observations.
“Tilly’s gone missing.”
“Okay. I’m on my way,” Sherlock replied.
The call went dead as Stanley rang off.
“John,” Sherlock called out as he pulled on his coat. “You need to continue taking measurements every quarter of an hour, for the next two hours.”
He was out of the door before John could formulate a suitable reply.
***
When Sherlock arrived at Stanley’s flat he found him shining his torch behind rubbish bins, rattling the box of cat food and calling to his cat.
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Stanley said, as soon as he saw Sherlock. “And I can’t find her.”
Sherlock put his arm around Stanley’s shoulders and steered him back inside. “You’ve done everything you can. She’s probably just wandered a bit further than usual. She’ll be back.”
“But she’s so small. What if she’s hurt?”
“She’s also very smart. She’ll be fine. I’ll make you some tea and then you should get to bed; you’re working tomorrow first thing.”
“I suppose it would be a good idea; I just hate to think of her alone out there tonight. I’ll get up extra early and look again before I go to work.”
“It’ll still be dark. I’ll stay the night and then I can look for her tomorrow morning.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Of course not. And it’s probably the only way to be sure you go to bed.”
***
Sherlock had been worried that Stanley wouldn’t sleep, but emotionally drained it hadn’t taken long before he did. Sherlock himself, less concerned about the kitten, had fallen asleep shortly afterwards. He woke a couple of hours later and listened to Stanley’s steady breathing. Except the breathing was more like purring. Since to the best of Sherlock’s knowledge Stanley didn’t purr, he opened his eyes to see Tilly curled up on the pillow next to him.
“Blasted cat,” Sherlock muttered.
His words woke Stanley who blinked and then saw the kitten. Stanley sat up, picked the kitten up and cuddled her. He carried her into the kitchen, where he only put her down in order to open a tin of tuna for her.
“You are the best kitten ever,” he said, giving her the bowl of food and stroking her at the same time.
Sherlock stumbled into the kitchen. “What about me?”
“And you are the best boyfriend ever.”
“I trust that doesn’t mean that you’re going to give me tuna.”
Stanley laughed. “No. I’ll make some tea.”
Once the tea was made they all three headed back to the bedroom together.