Her eyes followed the cat as she walked in behind him. “Not my name.” She repeated before shaking her head. Why did she even bother. He knew it was getting to her. She settled into a chair as she unbuttoned her coat.She furrowed her brow, eying him cautiously. “If you say so.” She shrugged lightly, offering him a half smile. It hardly mattered where they got coffee, she just wasn’t used to Sherlock being so… Friendly.
When she looks back at him, he’s smiling as if he were a dashing prince.
“I do, you’ll just have to taste it.”
Sherlock unlocked his tiny flat to her, smiling at the tiny mewls he hears from the door. Priscilla the at eyes them, mostly the Detective Inspector. He picks her up and sets her on the couch, giving her a long stroke from the head to her tail before leaving her be.
“Sit wherever you like, Gilda.”