Watson watched the cab until it was out of sight, wondering what on earth he had just gotten himself into.

The plaintive meowing of the gray kitten brought him back to the present, and he looked down to see that the little thing to would be poking holes in his sleeve with its claws if he didn't do something with it soon. He didn't feel up to provoking a battle by bringing the creature into the sitting room....

He went in and went straight up to his bedroom, depositing the little furball on his bed before running back downstairs and knocking on Mrs. Hudson's door. The good woman appeared in the doorway in a moment, looking at him suspiciously.

"Do you think you could give me a saucer of milk?"

Mrs. Hudson raised her eyebrows. "I thought you knew better to take in stray cats, Doctor."

"No," Watson said awkwardly, pulling out all the charm he could muster. "It's a perfectly angelic kitten, given to me by the neighbor I was talking to a few minutes ago. I would have asked you first, but she really was in a hurry."

Mrs. Hudson seemed to soften a little. "Well, I'm not sure, Doctor...."

"Oh, please, Mrs. Hudson" he begged. "It’s the offspring of my old cat back at Kensington, and I..."

She melted completely. "Well, alright," she said with a smile. "If she really is an angelic creature like you said, then I'm sure I'd be delighted to have her around the house. You have checked the idea with Mr. Holmes, haven't you?"

Watson felt the color rising to his cheeks. "Well, no, actually," he said. "I thought it would be best if I kept her in my room for the present."

Unexpectedly, Mrs. Hudson nodded. "Mr. Holmes would be more likely to murder the poor darling at this stage. Very well, I'll get you your saucer of milk, and I have an old blanket that you could give her. Oh, and you might also need this..."

She disappeared into her rooms and returned with the milk and the blanket, along with several other items that she deemed "absolutely necessary" for a young kitten. Watson loaded himself with the paraphernalia, and began walking back up the stairs, Mrs. Hudson following behind him.

Watson repressed a gasp when he entered the room and saw that the kitten was no longer on his bed where he had left it. He hastily dumped the stuff on the floor, but behind him Mrs. Watson let out an exclamation of "oh, the darling!" and rushed over to the foot of the bed.

Watson peered over her shoulder to find that the kitten had decided to curl up in his roomy slipper, and was dozing pleasantly. I meowed when Mrs. Hudson picked it up, but immediately began purring as she stroked its downy fur.

"You were right, Doctor," Mrs. Hudson gushed. "She is a perfect little angel! I won't mind at all having her about the house! What are you going to name her?"

The thought of a name had not crossed his mind. He had been rather unaware that the cats in Kensington even had names of their own until Mary had informed him of the fact. Now he saw that he would have to think of something, or else risk Mrs. Hudson giving it a pet name that he wouldn't be able to say without feeling like he’d lost his manly dignity. Glancing around, his eyes lighted on the kitten's chosen resting place. "Uh... how about Slippers?"

"Slippers...." Mrs. Hudson tried the name out. "Well, I suppose it will do. I had a Mittens when I was growing up, and Slippers is not that far off..... although she looks almost too sweet for such a name. Are you sure we couldn't call her something more darling?"

"Slippers," Watson repeated firmly.

"Oh, all right," Mrs. Hudson sighed. She handed the newly-christened feline to Watson and proceeded to bustle about the room, putting the various cat supplies in various corners of the room, until it looked like there had always been a cat there.

"Now, Doctor," she commanded. "I suggest you stay up here until she gets settled."

"And how long will that be?" Watson asked with some apprehension. "If I don't return to the sitting room soon, Holmes will begin to suspect something is up."

Mrs. Hudson glanced disapprovingly at him. "In that case, twenty minutes at the least. It's not my fault if that little dear dies from neglect."

"She won't," Watson assured her. Mrs. Hudson turned to go, but Watson stopped her.

"Promise not to breathe a word of this to Holmes?"

She smiled over her shoulder at him. "Of course I promise," she said. "It will be our little secret. I daresay I'm falling in love with the little angel myself." She disappeared down the stairs with a good-natured chuckle.