Title: Emergency Packing
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Rating: G
Length: 456
Summary: Sherlock has gone to Stanley Hopkins flat to pack for him.
Part of my River Police 'verse.

Sherlock Holmes unlocked the door to Stanley Hopkins’ flat and switched the light on.  He was greeted by a small ball of fur, which mewed pitifully at him.  He looked down rather crossly at the kitten, before his expression softened.

“I shouldn’t be annoyed with you, should I?  It’s not your fault Stanley’s not here,” he said.

Sherlock made his way into the kitchen, followed closely by the kitten.  Quickly he found a sachet of kitten food and, picking a bowl up from the drainer, poured the sachet contents into the bowl and put it on the floor.  The kitten sniffed cautiously at the food, before deciding it would be easiest if she put her two front paws in the bowl, after which she started eating.

Sherlock left her to it and headed into Stanley’s bedroom.  He opened the wardrobe door and reached in for a small suitcase which was on the wardrobe floor.  He lifted it onto the bed and then began methodically working his way through the chest of drawers and throwing items into the suitcase.  Not for the first time he was grateful for Stanley’s organised nature.

 As he packed, he thought back through the events of the day.  What should have been a routine investigation had left Stanley in hospital with a wound to his back which had required several stitches.  It was clear someone had alerted the criminals to expect the police.  It was equally clear there was more to this matter than had been initially apparent.

Sherlock was determined to get to the bottom of it.  So far he had a number of theories, but without further enquiry they could neither be assumed to be the truth nor dismissed.  He would have to do some digging, but the first concern was to arrange for Stanley to be discharged from hospital into his care and that meant packing the suitcase and taking it to Baker Street.

Sherlock went into the bathroom to fetch Stanley’s razor and returned to find the kitten sitting in the suitcase.

“You can’t stay in there,” he said.  “And I haven’t got time to play with you; I need to find whoever did this to Stanley.”

The kitten didn’t move.

“You’re right,” Sherlock added.  “I can’t leave you here.  You’ll have to come with me.  But you still can’t stay in the suitcase.”

Sherlock had a quick look around, picked up the kitten’s bed and some of her toys, and squashed them into the case, before shutting it.

The door bell rang.

“That will be the cab,” Sherlock said.

He took one last look round the flat, picked up the suitcase in one hand, pushed the kitten into his coat pocket with the other one, and left.