holmes_minor | Fic: Will: G

Title: Will
Form/Wordcount: 458
Character/Parings: Holmes, OFC
Rating: G
Warning/Content: A disruption from the routine during Holmes’ late retirement life.

The Littles have requested The cat came back and it’s been playing almost non-stop whenever we are in the car. This is inspired by the song and the monthly prompt.

For Sherlock Holmes, his late retirement life had slipped into the monotony of routine. Each day, the housekeeper prepared one place at meals and one tea cup and saucer for tea. Each day she cleaned his one cottage and kept to herself. Each evening, the housekeeper would lead Holmes to a lichen encrusted bench looking out to the Channel and Holmes would sit there alone (having forgotten the way once) until she retrieved him later. He sat and wrung his arthritic hands together trying to remember something he should have remembered, something he had done, something important. His life continued thusly day after day after day.

And then he came.

He was in the form of a ginger tom cat. Holmes observed the cat’s ever-listening ears were torn and tattered. The cat’s tail had a kink and the tip never waved the way a tail from a pampered cat waved. The cat never let Holmes pet him, so he didn’t know if his coat was soft or coarse. Each day the cat followed Holmes as he puttered through his routine, and each day the housekeeper warned to not feed that cat or he would never leave.

Holmes had no intention of feeding or keeping this cat who had mistaken their identity as people who wanted a cat. The housekeeper mentioned the cat to a local farmer, who came and caught it. That was the end of that, or so Holmes thought, but the cat came back. Another farmer who lived further away also came and caught the cat, but the cat came back again. The cat was here to stay and Holmes and the housekeeper slowly accepted their new companion.

They hollered after the cat: “Will you get off that?”, “Will you get out of the house?”, “Will you ever leave?”, and other sorts of questioning reprimands. Each time, the cat would tilt its head, flick its kinked tail, and ignore them. As are the way of such things, he housekeeper began calling the cat Will since, according to her, everythings gotta have a name.

Soon they slipped into their new routine. Two places were prepared at each meal, and one tea cup and two saucers for tea. Each day, the housekeeper discarded the dead mice Will brought and reprimanded the cat as she cleaned the cottage. Each evening, Holmes sat with Will curled up on the bench next to him. Only then would Will let Holmes stroke his soft head and some of the pain in Holmes’ hand eased.

Holmes began remembering.

Holmes remembered another companion who shared adventures with him. He told Will what he could of his earlier life, stumbling over the parts that were not clear. Will sat and contently twitching his tail.