[Comprehensive British and American] Plague Meow

The little black cat stared at Sherlock's stumbling appearance, and suddenly felt that all his hard work in taking care of him had been fed to the Dog.

Feed the Twolegs full early in the morning, and turn around and starve himself to death.

Very angry, very angry.

The furious Naqi didn't intend to be polite anymore, he had an extra tube of potion in his mouth.

At the door of 221B Baker Street, when Sherlock took out the key and was about to open the door, Natch fell from the eaves and stepped firmly on top of Sherlock's head.

Before this human instinctively retracted his neck to defend, Naqi quickly got into Sherlock's collar.

Sherlock was stunned by the sudden change of situation, and then felt a sudden pain in his neck, as if he had been stabbed by some needle.

He was alerted immediately, and shook Nucky away with a vigorous shake.

"What the hell?!"

Sherlock couldn't react to the changes in his body.

What's the matter with this spirit of fullness? ? ?

Obviously he didn't eat all day, and he didn't add some "spiritual comfort", but he suddenly felt a feeling of fullness, as if his stomach was filled with gentle and soft things, and their energy was passing through his blood Spread to the whole body.

The sudden feeling of fullness made him feel fooled, especially when paired with the little black cat's contemptuous squinting eyes, it was a straightforward mockery.

However, the door had already been pushed open at this time, and Naqi didn't care what Sherlock's expression was, and went straight in.

In the living room Watson was on the phone to the aid station.

"Yes, a black cat, very small, and wearing a cloak. What? No, no, no, I didn't abuse it, it just likes cloaks." Watson explained that his heart was very tired.

Turning around, I saw Naqi walking in with his head poking his head. The moment he met his gaze, he stopped stretching his paws, just like a kid who sneaked out to play and was caught when he sneaked back.

Watson breathed a sigh of relief.

After thanking and explaining, he hung up the phone, walked over and hugged Naqi, who seemed to have entered a petrified state, and asked in a whisper: "Where did you go? I clearly remember that the doors and windows are locked." .”

"Meow……"

Naqi let out a soft cry obediently, and his attitude of admitting his mistake was very good.

The little black cat was soft, its cry was a little weak, and its belly was deflated when touched, as if it was starving. It took another look at Sherlock who followed aggressively.

This guy still wants to hit cats!

Watson suddenly became angry: "Sherlock, why do you always have trouble with cats?"

As he spoke, he hugged the cat and turned slightly sideways, showing an obvious protective gesture.

Sherlock slammed to a stop.

The gray eyes widened in disbelief, and he seemed to be stuck in a forward-ready pose about to attack.

It took a while for Sherlock to recover from Watson's stare.

"of course."

He raised his jaw slightly, glanced at Watson with a reserved and arrogant attitude, then adjusted his collar, and touched the stinging spot with his fingertips covertly, without any trace of needle marks.

Sherlock's expression didn't change, and he added:

"I understand that most people, even if they're not cat lovers, don't approve of attacking a kitten for no reason. Me too. But only if it's a cat."

Sherlock stared at Nucky as he spoke.

Naqiyi was confident in Watson's arms.

The golden pupils stared at Sherlock, with a very obvious arrogance and a trace of contempt inside, and it avoided Watson's perspective very well, ensuring that these provocations would only be seen by Sherlock.

Staring at the cat, Sherlock realized that he was facing a dangerous enemy, and if he was not careful, he might experience the friendship crisis he least wanted, so he slowly took a breath of air, allowing himself to deal with the situation more calmly The problem.

"Only if it's a cat." Sherlock emphasized.

"Of course it's not a simple cat." Watson couldn't understand why this guy was so angry, and he was still trying to reason with Sherlock. "We all know. The question is why did you attack it? It What have you done?"

Watson is definitely serious about trying to figure out the truth.

He believed that Sherlock was not the one who would attack a kitten for no reason, and he waited for Sherlock to explain the truth to him after the sarcasm, details that he could not penetrate.

But this time Sherlock didn't say anything.

Sherlock thought of his unmarked neck, his hundredfold energy, and his sense of fullness.

"I'm going to have a blood draw." Then he ran away.

Watson: ...

Waste of emotion.

Checking of course turned up nothing.

The inspector who was forced to work overtime yawned and floated away with the coffee, leaving Sherlock alone with a blank expression on the report.According to the report, there was nothing in his body that shouldn't be there, and he seemed to have just had a full meal, and every cell revealed the pleasure of being full.

Yes, he could actually feel it himself.

Sherlock touched his neck again, with a strange expression on his face.

So the cat fed him a good meal with a needle?

Alright, alright, look at this damn world, gods and demons are everywhere, what's so strange?Sherlock closed his eyes tightly.

"Meow." The cat meowed.

Sherlock looked up to see Nucky just outside the window.

"Meow." Go back to sleep.

He actually understood.Sherlock found that he understood the hell, it had nothing to do with his ears, but his brain!It was clear that there was a cat telling him to go to sleep!

Sherlock got up and strode over, opening the window forcefully: "What have you done to my brain?"

"Meow." Your expression looks like a girl who was cheated by a scumbag for the first time.

Not only was Naqi not scared away by the sound of "Pang Dang", but he complained calmly.

As Sherlock chokes, Watson enters.

"Sherlock?"

"It's okay." Sherlock smiled.

People can't compete with cats.

No matter how dull, Sherlock also understood this.

Especially when the strength of the two sides is very different.

After all, no matter how big he is, he is such a small ball, only a little bigger than a newly weaned kitten. When the two sides conflict, it is normal for Watson to prefer the seemingly weak Nucky.

Sherlock changed his strategy, reached out to pick up Nucky, and put his face on the cat's face under the cat's strange gaze.

"Look, we're improving our relationship."

"Meow???"

Natch was stunned by the Twoleg's shamelessness.It immediately blocked Sherlock's face with its paws, but it still didn't catch up to stop him from getting closer, and the cat's face was deformed by rubbing.

Watson seemed to be sighing, but also seemed to be relieved: "In short, let's go back."

"Ok."

"Meow."

One "pleasant" night, two people and one cat occupied their respective bedroom and living room in the house. After confirming that the Twolegs were asleep, Naqi turned on his mobile phone and reported Sherlock's itinerary to Batman.

And by the way, he complained: [His schedule is worse than yours. 】

Batman: "Am I the lowest standard?"

[In various senses, yes. 】

"..." Batman skipped the subject for half a second.

"The investigation of Moriarty has made some progress. It seems that he is more accepting of the new era than Holmes, and has already started contacting mutants and a certain group."

[Nine-clawed octopus. 】

Batman grunted faintly at the address, as if trying to hold back a laugh.

"...that's Hydra," he emphasized.

[Is that the mentally twisted and strange human himself confessed? 】

"He explained a lot of things, and I chose to listen to some of them. I have to say that his eloquence is very good. Even if he is just a chat partner, the time is very pleasant."

[We have talked about your spiritual value, you need a normal conversation partner, calculating each other is not a kind of 'talk'. 】

Naqi lay on his back, using the kitten mat as a chaise longue, with the tip of his tail swinging lazily, poking the projection keyboard slowly, letting the letters pop out one by one.

[Do you want me to fix his brain? 】

"Don't think about it, Natch."

【All right. 】

Maybe that Sherlock is still looking for this Moriarty, although the Twoleg can disguise as well as Batman when needed, but Natchy has learned from Batman to read the words that are not lies. camouflage.

For this two-legged beast, sometimes uncharacteristic indifference is just the proof of special care.

And, at the same time, it proves what Sherlock is trying to hide.

It is indeed not a detective, nor does it know how to deduce a person's occupation and past from the last details, but Naqi is very patient, and like all cats, it is good at squatting and culling suddenly.

Next morning, 07:30.

Sherlock felt something was wrong, a mysterious heaviness, moving on his stomach and lower abdomen, constantly stepping on it, oppressing the fragile nerves of the internal organs.

Sherlock woke up with a start.

"?!"

This night's sleep was too deep, and it was an indescribable experience for the brain that was always running at high speed.

After waking up, Sherlock looked at the little black cat standing on his lower abdomen with a confused face, his thoughts were running rapidly, leaving a blank afterimage. .

He even wants to ask "Who am I?" and "Where am I?".

No, be precise.

Sherlock thought about this problem and decided to name it "postmortem rigidity in the thinking system".

The little black cat looked at him sideways, and then squatted down on his lower abdomen through the quilt.

Sherlock snorted.

The brain began to miss the dark and sweet lethargy, which made him look a little weak and weak, and pulled the quilt to cover his face.

"

The morning sun is very healthy, but what does it have to do with me? "Sherlock, who didn't wake up, muttered to himself, maybe he didn't even know what he said.

Natch narrowed his eyes.

In the next half a second, the entire quilt was torn away by a force majeure, and as the little black cat's limbs and claws moved rapidly, all the quilts were kicked to the floor by it.

Sherlock wanted to pull, but he didn't hold back at all. Instead, his upper body stood upright after being pulled.

"...?" He was stupefied in capital letters.

The little black cat was also taken aback, then jumped away, cocked its tail and walked away without looking back.

Sherlock's sleeping habits are rather subtle. When he is nervous, he sleeps with his clothes on. When he is relaxed, he is completely in the opposite state. After taking Zanaki's potion yesterday, Sherlock slept very deeply, and unknowingly kicked off his clothes.

Naqi expressed clear dislike for this.

Its little black cat has its own fur and wears a cape. This Twolegs dares to be naked even though it is hairless.

Dislike it.

Eight o'clock sharp, breakfast.

Watson tapped his laptop to check today's blog status, while enjoying the morning oatmeal milk, white bread, duck breast and fried eggs. There was a fruit plate in the center of the dining table. The extra fruit this morning was sliced ​​sweet orange .

"Did something happen?" Watson felt strange.

Sherlock was a little strange this morning, the aura of "unexplainable guilt" hovered almost directly over Sherlock's head, even if he didn't have a pair of observant eyes, he could easily see it.

This is not quite right.

An early morning adventure?

Watson's fingertips were twitching, ready to hit the keyboard at any moment.

And Sherlock, who was stuffing duck breast and lettuce into white bread, ditched the tomatoes, made them into a simple sandwich as Natchy watched plaintively, and gnawed hard.

"Please!? For the sake of anything," he said inarticulately, "Why didn't I know that you also work as a part-time gossip reporter?"

"Maybe there are indeed things in this world that you cannot reason about."

Watson returned with a smile. He was in a good mood, and after a little deliberation, he began to type on the keyboard.

"What's the topic? 'Black Fascination'?" Sherlock probed.

Watson cast a strange look: "It's just a little black cat, you don't even know it's male or female." Then, Watson made a gesture of please, and continued typing.

He was hitting it: it was like a phantom in the night, sneaking beside Sherlock Holmes.

When Sherlock arrived, he almost choked to death with the food in his mouth. He quickly poured himself half a glass of juice and made a stomachache expression before looking at the little black cat.

Natch looked back.

Under the disapproving gaze of the little black cat, Sherlock was silent for about ten seconds, maybe longer, so long that Watson stopped typing and turned to look at him.

Watson: "Is there a question?"

"It's nothing," Sherlock was called back to his soul by Watson, "it doesn't matter what gender it is, as you said, it's just a kitten."

"Of course, but is there something wrong with you today? Is there any discomfort?"

"Me? I'm fine."

Sherlock turned his head sideways.

Watson still felt that something was wrong. Sherlock was in good spirits today, but he was a little out of shape. He wanted to ask a few more questions, but Mrs. Hudson's voice came from downstairs.

"New guest! This is a celebrity!"

"Don't say that, I'm just famous in America." The visitor put away his sunglasses, stroked his moustache, and gave Mrs. Hudson a big hug, "Please keep my visit a secret, ma'am .I just came to find a kitten that was lost at home."

"Oh, of course." Mrs. Hudson smiled happily.

Natch blinked and pricked up his ears.

"Is this voice familiar?" Watson also pricked up his ears.

"do not know."

"You don't even know the sun anymore."

Watson didn't count on Sherlock at all. He recalled it by himself and suddenly remembered something. He turned on the computer, and he searched proficiently and quickly. Sure enough, he found the news that a certain superhero had left New York.

"God, isn't it?" Watson touched his face tiredly.

The author has something to say: Thanks to the little angels who fed the reserve food between 7.29~7.31~

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