Catty: This short story is a soliloquy for Basil from The Great Mouse Detective using the nursery rhyme - Baa baa black sheep.

Never did such a great mouse ever before exist. Never in the future will a mouse like him exist, ever again. Basil was better than good - He was the best.

But sometimes, it isn't enough. It isn't enough to help everyone - It isn't enough to sacrifice everything.

Mademoiselle Irene Relda was her name. She was beautiful and charming and, though deterred by the wild lifestyle she lived, beyond brilliant - Though never as great as Basil, himself, of course.

Dawson, ever the Englishman, did not care for her or for her profession. Did not take kindly to her, at all, in fact. He respected Basil, though... Enough to let him make his own decisions as a full grown mouse.

Mademoiselle Relda was not like other mice, though. She knew of Basil's brilliance and she used her talents to confuse him... To use him. His brother, Magnus, had essentially tried to warn him, but... When was the great Basil of Baker Street ever known to listen to his elder brother?

Now, he sat - Alone. Dawnson had left him not three months ago on his own adventure - Love. Basil scoffed at the idea. It was a fantasy too often crushed by the harsh reality of war. The Doctor and his newly wed wife, Ester, seemed to think differently. It was not Basil's place to question that.

And slowly, the world turned dark. The world began to wonder - What exactly became of the great detective? Perhaps he was not so great, after all. A poor, unfortunate mouse that stood out among the other sheep of his kind. The lemurs and followers - All jumping into a pointless continued existance. What did it all even matter, anyways?

Basil of Baker Street - Did he even care for anyone at all... Was there a heart beyond the cold and calculating mouse?

Well, of course there was. But he didn't care for everyone - Not really. He dealt with mice, it was his job, but he could hardly consider even glancing at half of them, twice.

The first was Dawson, of course. A Doctor and a friend. He was who Basil knew he could count on - Knew he could trust - No matter what the danger... No matter what the sacrifice. Dawson had moved on from him, however. Basil wished him the best as he left Baker Street for the very last time.

One for the master.

The second, for some time, had been Mademoiselle Relda. A goddess to a nonbeliever. Basil remember exactly why he didn't have woman in his life - They closed his mind and made him think with his heart instead of his head. Such a waste of a mind like his.

One for the dame.

And the last was a little girl - Well, possibly not as little anymore. With a blue jacket and a toy-making father. A little girl who gave him the first and saved him from the latter. Though crushed, he would forever still be too prideful to face Magnus for help. Olivia Flaversham was going to be gone, as well, however. A charming young mouse came along and swept her off her feet. She's far too busy now to see her childhood friend, Basil.

And one for the little boy who lives down the lane.

So, is it any wonder he is not the mouse he once was? Is it any wonder that they ask him if there is anyone left for him to love?

Baa baa black sheep

Have you any wool?

Did he? Really? Could Basil - The cold. The heartless. The forgotten. The fake.

Could he really ever have loved anyone at all?

Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir.

Three bags full.

Catty: Did I really just write a fanfic for The Great Mouse Detective? Yes. Yes, I did.