Mr. Inspector

The cat was picked up by Watson. It was a purebred fold-eared cat. It meowed in a low voice at the gate of 221B Baker Street early in the morning.Seeing that it was so pitiful, Watson carried it into the apartment to keep warm.

Seeing that today is Christmas, and the fireplace is still burning, Sherlock sank into the sofa in the living room, selectively ignoring the festive atmosphere.

"Where's the cat?" Seeing the little thing in Watson's arms, Sherlock asked with rare interest.

"Ah?" Watson came to his senses. He gently placed the kitten on the carpet, then took off the overcoat he wore outside, threw it on the sofa on the other side, and said, "Just pick it up at the door." Yes, it is probably lost with its owner."

The cat was not shy at all. After being placed on the carpet by Watson, it turned around in this strange apartment.Its green eyes stared at Sherlock all of a sudden.

After looking at each other calmly with the cat, Sherlock turned over on the sofa and lost interest all of a sudden.

There are several today's newspapers spread out beside him, but none of the news is interesting to him.

...Could it be that the criminals in London are also grateful that today is Christmas and have started to celebrate the festival.

Thinking of this, Sherlock turned over again and buried his entire face in the sofa.

Watson sat on another sofa, ignoring a certain detective who had been arguing for the past few days, and began to concentrate on teasing the cat.

Lestrade got the news from nowhere, rushed to the apartment at 221B Baker Street, and asked loudly, "Where's the cat?"

He suddenly saw the fold-eared cat squatting on the sofa, and he jumped up for joy.After running over to check it carefully, I realized that it wasn't the one I lost.

Mr. Inspector was disappointed all of a sudden, with frustration written all over his face.But he still held the cat in his arms and refused to let go.

"Where did you get it?" He looked up and asked Watson.

"I found it early in the morning, at the door of the apartment." Watson looked at the inspector and struggled, "I, what I didn't expect is that you also have a cat."

Sherlock showed half of his face from the sofa, and explained: "He used to have a cat, but that cat got lost two years ago."

"How do you know?" Lestrade asked in surprise.

"Through the blog." Sherlock was finally willing to sit up from the sofa, and he stretched out his hands to arrange his clothes. "You know, I have followed the blogs of every policeman in Scotland Yard, and found a lot of interesting things at the same time."

"Tell me." Watson was more interested.

"I'll tell you when I'm free tonight." Sherlock looked towards the stairs. "Now, here's another guest."

The figure of Mycroft holding a small black umbrella appeared in front of them.

"Merry Christmas, everyone," he said with a smile.

Only Watson stood up and greeted him friendly, while the other two remained indifferent.

Sherlock's inner activities——[I found someone here, I don't want to give him face]

... The inspector's eyes were still on the cat.

But he still couldn't be as willful as Sherlock, so he put down the cat and looked up at him, and said dryly, "You're here."

Mycroft approached him and sat down on the sofa, "The cat you picked up?"

Watson nodded and replied, "Well, it is estimated that the owner accidentally left it at the door."

Under the eyes of everyone, the cat quietly moved towards the leg of Tan Long's trousers.

The detective reached out and picked it up again.

"If we like it, we'll raise one too," Mycroft said.

"...Yes." The inspector said in a low voice.

"If you are busy, I can take care of you."

"not busy."

……

Hearing the conversation between them, Watson turned his complicated and puzzled eyes to Sherlock - the latter nodded, responding to the conjecture in his mind.

The kitten called softly, and unconsciously looked at the fish tank not far away.

- It's hungry.

Then, I don't really understand the things between human beings.

I still miss the owner a little bit.

On the other side, in a dark room.Moriarty whipping a man in chains.

"Bastard, I can't even look after a cat if I ask you to take care of it, what's the use of you—!"

One of his subordinates cautiously suggested: "Then why don't we buy another one?"

Moriarty yelled, "Get out of here!!!"