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"Yes, John?"

"I could have sworn we'd talked about this, Sherlock."

"Talked about what? Exactly what is it are you referring to?"

"Don't pull that shit with me, Sherlock, you know exactly what I'm referring to."

"That is not remotely true, you could be referring to many things and I am just trying to clarify matters as you know how I hate to be imprecise about anything."

"Oh yeah, and what are the 'many things' you think I could be talking about here?"

"Well, there is the stain on the carpet, a tear in the sofa, fingers in the freezer, the—"

"Wait a minute, fingers in the freezer? Sherlock! We talked about you bringing body parts into the flat! You agreed. No. You are not going to distract me. Keep going with your list."

"Ah, yes, as I was saying, there is the stain on the carpet, a tear in the sofa, fingers in the freezer, barium in the butter dish and the minor, tiny, practically inconsequential detail that I might have been working on rebuilding Mycroft's transmogrification device and, when I happened to finish with said rebuilding a few hours ago, I felt it was important to test it to see if it would function to its previous parameters."

"I see. And out of that lovely little list, which item do you think I might be upset about?"

"It would be difficult, not to mention presumptuous of me, to even attempt to… Are you hissing at me?"

"Yes. Yes, Sherlock I am hissing at you. Because I am a cat. Again. Because you chose to muck about with transmogrification. Again. Despite your promises. Despite the dismantling of the device. Despite our previous talks on the matter. And, last but not least, despite what happened after the last time you transmogrified me without my permission. You do remember what happened last time, don't you?"

"Now, John, there is no need—"

"No need? I am a cat, Sherlock!"

"Yes, well. I do concede that perhaps I got a little carried away, but the technology is so fascinating! Even someone like you must see that."

"Even someone like me? You mean someone who was a rugby player? Someone who was a soldier and trained to fight with just their fists or to turn whatever they could get their hands on into weapons? Someone who now has five beautiful, sharp claws on each paw?"

"...That was not what I had intended to imply. What are you doing? John, why is your tail and rear swishing back and forth like that?"

"We're going to play a game, Sherlock."

"I don't particularly like games."

"Oh, you'll like this one. It's called 'pounce.' Ready?"


"Tough. On three. One. Two…."