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You were wandering the alleys of London again. Given this was your territory, you had to make sure to protect it from outsiders. Especially since there was the strange tall man who would leave a saucer of milk out for you come evening.

When the tall, light sea eyed man started giving you milk, he had put something weird in it. Not foolish enough to test it head on, you either watched what happened to a creature drinking the milk (they usually died), or observed the man observing you. He was a colder fellow, not usually the one to express emotion. Thankfully he's smart enough to realize you weren't fooled by his initial tainted offerings. From then on, he began to vary the amount of milk, sometimes teetering back and forth with putting in strange things. You wouldn't put up with the bad milk, and decided to try training this human. Every time the milk was good, you would bring him a mouse you just caught as a present. Every time he messed with the milk, you left a less pleasant gift in retaliation.

As your new-found relationship continued, the man just went and put out un-tainted milk more often. He would still observe what you did, and there had been some times where you could smell his unusual scent of strange, unpleasant scents mixed with a pine smell. Why he figured you were worth observing outside of the evening ritual, you could care less.

Out of boredom, you would observe the strange human. When he was bored, he would either yowl loudly, make loud noises, or both. When he was busy, the flat was usually quiet. Recently the odd man has acquired a blonde subordinate. Truly fitting, since even your slave (as you now called him) needs someone to lord over. No matter what, he still remembered to leave a saucer of milk for you each evening.

One time, you decided your human was looking lonely. As such, given how well he's taken care of you, you decided to lavish on him your attention. You sauntered up to his pant leg and rubbed against it, purring to show your affection. Your human is surprised by your action, and mulls over why you are initiating contact with him for the first time. You bat at his leg, claws sheathed, until he understands you want him to pet you. Given his unusually long fingers, they happened to be very gentle in petting you. For understanding what you wanted, you purred even more as a reward. There were other nights where you would interact with him, which also became part of the ritual.

It was surprising the blonde subordinate never thought to question what your human did with all the milk. It seemed he would go out and buy it, but has yet to make an offering himself. Perhaps the evening saucer was just a ritual between you and your human? Given his secretive nature, you decide that must be the case. However, as long as you received your daily amount of milk and attention, you could care less if the subordinate never met you.

Days later, you're lying in an alley filled with your blood. There had been a tomcat who decided to try and take your territory, which you were barely able to protect. Dusk had long since fallen, and you doubted you would live to see morning. The cold numbed the pain, at least a little bit. You were sad as well, since your human will probably never know what happened to you. It was different, having regret over a slave. Too bad you never gave him the gift the defeated tom took away.

Your nose picks up the scent of your human. Within moments, you feel yourself being picked up and carried somewhere. You were in no position to attempt breaking away, and could only dimly cry out and purr. At one point the air felt warm, and the light increased. Your slave happened to have a deep rumble for a voice, which you thought wasn't terrible. He was communicating with someone, but you were too tired to care. Last thing you remembered was being wrapped up in a blanket, while your slave's hand petted you, accompanied by his soothing muttering.

You woke up, sore and hungry. Opening your eyes, you realize your not out in the streets anymore. You were in an enclosed space, much like the boxes you so preferred. You didn't freak out about the new space, since the prevailing scent was your slave's. Speaking of which, he was spread out on the long white ledge, long fingered hands close to his face. Feeling more hungry than tired, you announced your wakefulness to him. Broken from his revery, he accounted your wellbeing before pouring you a saucer of milk. He had warmed it a bit, making the meal very delicious. As a reward, you purred and nuzzled his hand. After consuming the meal, you fell back asleep.

The days passed back and forth between you being awake and asleep. You finally observed what some of the loud noises were. He would sit in his spot with a bang stick (you're slowly learning more of the human language, so that you would find out later is a gun) and shoot the wall. You've tried teaching your slave (Sherlock, as you'd learn) not to do that, but ended up giving up on that pursuit. The other type of noise was when he would pick up the brown box (violin) and play. You also determined the brown box is what gave your slave Sherlock his pine scent.

The subordinate John was interesting to observe. He would sit at the tall shelf (table) and work on his black blinking box (laptop). Other times, he would go and change the cloth bandages over my wounds. He must have had some type of training which allowed him to know how to take care of you, but you could care less for his offensive scents.

By now you were feeling much better, so much so that you would explore the flat. You quickly ensured there was a place for you to take care of your business, and wandered high and low. The kitchen was the most amusing place to wander. You discovered you could punish Sherlock and John by pushing the experiments off the counters. But you decided only to mess with them only when you're greatly displeased. It was more fun walking around the experiments and showing off you could. One of you favorite spots was to hang out right next to the skull on the mantle. From there you commanded a view of the entire flat, and you could rub against the skull when you had an itchy spot.

Another human who visits the flat is the Mrs. Hudson woman. She was shocked to see you, but with careful persuasion you convinced her to let you stay. Sherlock might have said "until the cat fully recovers", but you weren't considering going back out onto the streets again. You were with your favorite slave, and you liked being able to command your new territory without the hassle of defending it from others. Mrs. Hudson frequently complains about your hair being everywhere, but what can you do about natural processes? When she approached you with a brush, you discovered what a wonderful feeling being groomed by someone else is like. With that, you allowed Mrs. Hudson to brush you, rewarding her with a purr.

It was common for other people to come into the flat. When they did, Sherlock would sit in his chair, John his, and you would perch on the mantle next to the skull. You quickly discovered a common pattern with most the visits. Either there was a missing person, or a mate cheating on another mate. As Sherlock would point out within the first meetings, you were quickly learning how to read the outsiders as well. If there was a mate cheating with another, you could usually smell three scents from the client. If something small was missing, it was easy to tell the main client accidentally dropped the small object under a piece of furniture, or down the sink. Most of such cases were thrown out. Sometimes Sherlock and John would head out to a case after receiving a call. You still stayed in the flat, not quite ready to go back to the streets.

One of the times Sherlock and John were out, Sherlock's brother came to visit you. It wasn't difficult to tell he was a sibling of Sherlock. He had the same basic scent, with a touch of musty paper, ink, and smoke added as well. You sat on the mantlepiece, while the brother sat in the client chair. The two of you observed each other, making your own opinions. You could tell he was older than Sherlock, lazier, liked sweets a little too well, and more emotionally distant than Sherlock. He didn't appear threatening to your stay here, so you came down and rubbed against his leg while purring. You figured he was at least good enough for receiving attention. He was surprised by your action, but obeyed nonetheless. You rewarded him with louder purring.

Another time you Sherlock's brother came back, you learned his name was Mycroft. It was apparent Sherlock didn't like his older brother walking into his territory. If he had hackles, they would be raised with a warning howl and hiss. The interactions usually lead to Sherlock making annoying sounds on his violin, making you voice your opinions of his horrid playing. In the end, Mycroft would come when Sherlock's out just to give you attention during the boring days.

You were also able to observe Sherlock when he's quieter. Most time's he's laying on the couch, with his hands pressed together in thought. When he wasn't paying attention, you would jump up on him and curl up on his chest. No better place for a nap then there, right? There had been times where he's thrown you off suddenly, forgetting you were there, but he soon learned not to move so quickly, since his shirt and chest wound up with scratches.

John was an ever more interesting person to torment when you were bored. If he was typing on his laptop, you would go and sit right on the keyboard, demanding his attention. Besides, the keyboard was wonderfully warm. Anyways, John would try to move your person off, or try to work around you, but most attempts were aborted and John grabbed one of your many toys. Your favorite ones were the spot of light you could never catch (and never would give up trying to catch) and the rod with the stringed feathers. Any visitor not allergic to cats would pick up the rod in attempts to play with you. And, depending on how Sherlock was treating the client, you would help him by acting cute and playing with them. Other times, Mycroft or Mrs. Hudson would play with you. Only in a rare moment would Sherlock play with you.

The day finally came when you were deemed well enough to leave. You were on the mantle, and could tell right away the discussion between Sherlock and John wasn't going well. With that said, you retreated to the highest perch you could go, well away from where the humans could find you. You had decided a long time ago you were staying in this flat with your favorite slaves, and nothing would put you back out into the streets. They tried multiple times to convince you to come out, but you continued to stay well out of their reach. There had been saucer filled with milk, and a sedative to make you fall asleep. You would rather starve than be kicked out. Alas, they were able to capture you and let you loose on the streets again. Having none of that, you spent each day carefully monitoring the door leading to the flat. One time Mycroft came around, and he let you back in. Eventually Sherlock and John kicked you back out, but you were determined. Whenever a client came in, you ran between their legs and shot straight for the flat. After multiple repeats of you trying to get in and they kicking you out, the thought finally got through their skulls you wanted to stay with them as their companion. Heck, to prove your point, you had followed them out on a case, and found a vital clue hiding under the bed!

Afterwards, you were finally back into the flat, while Sherlock and John were discussing what to do with you. They determined you needed a name. John had suggested Toby, which you snorted at. Sherlock tried (name), which you figured was well enough for you. Remembering to respond to it when they called was a hassle at first, but you learned.

You were well acquainted with your new territory. You had no urges to explore the outside anymore, since everything you could want was within the flat. Your slaves would feed you dry kibble and meat from a can. John would occasionally give you a tasty biscuit as a bribe to get off his computer, and Sherlock continued to give you your saucer of milk in the evenings. You could demand all the attention in the world, and you could sleep next to your first slave when he actually slept.

Epilogue (outsider point of view)

"Sherlock?" John asked.

"What?" Sherlock was just about to go into his mind palace with (name) curled up on his chest.

"Was (name) the reason why we never had milk around?"

"As I told you, it was for an experiment."

"But the rate of milk we use hasn't decreased."

"I'm still conducting the experiment." Sherlock finally zoomed off to his mind palace.

John looked at you and Sherlock and chuckled. "Sure you are, Sherlock. Sure you are."