Matters of the Heart
By ALS123
Throughout the course of my illustrious career as Mousedom's first and only consulting detective, I have often called upon the use of disguises to aid me during a case. A penniless beggar, an injured clergy mouse, a humble household servant, a salty sea captain, a grotesquely obese Chinese mouse…these aliases, among many others, have proven quite valuable in my investigations. Yet the art of disguise is more than a simple change in costume; a truly convincing disguise also requires a change in mannerisms, in speech patterns. One must make a complete transformation, taking on the role of an entirely different person. My disguises are very convincing, so much so that I have fooled those who are closest to me, even family members. I've often been told that the theater lost a valuable actor when I made the decision to embark on a career of fighting crime.
However, I must admit there is one role that I had never expected to play…
That of Best Mouse at my colleague's wedding.
How Dawson ever managed to talk me into this I'll never understand. Yet here I was standing by his side, the ring tucked safely in the pocket of my best suit, which I had to dig out of mothballs in the back of my wardrobe, awaiting to play my small part in the ceremony which was about to take place.
Unable to help myself, I felt a yawn trying to escape; but as Dawson turned and shot a warning glance my way I quickly suppressed it. Yet his mustache twitched as he fought back a smile.
"Rough night, old boy?" he asked, smiling pleasantly at the guests continuing to enter, filling the small church.
"Bit of an understatement," I retorted, plastering a smile on my face as well.
"Your eye looks much better this morning."
"Doesn't feel any better," I said, reaching up and touching my right eye gingerly, wincing as the bruised spot throbbed with pain.
After accepting Dawson's request to be in his wedding, my brother Byron informed me, much to my chagrin, that one of the duties of the Best Mouse was to organize a stag party for the groom. And so, the night before, I had treated Dawson to what was supposedly a celebration of his final day as a bachelor before 'tying the knot' so to speak. Our party consisted of myself, Byron, and my brother-in-law Victor Harrison, as well as some of Dawson's other friends. The doctor is infinitely more sociable than I am, as anyone can imagine.
The night had started out well, though I felt a bit out of place as everyone partook in the night's entertainment. I meandered through the crowd to the bar and took a seat where I had a clear view of everything and everyone in the room. Dawson was engaged in a game of cards with a group of his old military companions; Byron chatted with a small group over politics; and the rest gathered around the stage as the trio of showgirls clad in gaudy glittering costumes performed their musical number. Of course, there were many others present at the tavern who were not members of our party so that it was nearly filled to capacity.
Others have referred to my powers of deduction as a gift; yet at times such as this, it might seem more of a curse. The myriad of voices clashed together, each laugh, guffaw, cough, sneeze, and shout blending together to create one loud roar. Yet with my highly acute senses, it was possible for me to concentrate on one group and pick out snippets of conversation. Most might view the practice as extremely rude; but that is my trade…to observe. My ears twitched as I did so, concentrating on one section of the room at a time. Dawson's laughter stood out as his friends jokingly accused him of cheating. Other noises included the whistling and cheering at the showgirls, the clash of glass breaking as a bottle was knocked off a table to the floor, the sound of coins clinking together as mice placed their bets on the table, the distinct twang as a sting from the bass player's instrument broke.
My attention eventually fell on the mice beside me; a rather unsavory group gathered around a tall, well-built mouse as he spoke. From his short bent nose, which indicated it been broken several times in the past, swollen knuckles, and overall muscular appearance, I quickly deduced that he was a boxer. And, judging from his boastful comments and superior attitude about him, a champion boxer at that. I rolled my eyes as he bragged to his companions about his success, claiming that he could defeat anyone who dared challenge him.
The noise began to wear on me, so I decided to step outside for a bit of peace, as well as a brief smoke. As I turned towards the door, I saw too late that the boxer had turned at the same time, and I immediately tried to sidestep him; unfortunately, we both stepped in the same direction, and I bumped against his shoulder, causing him to spill the drink in his hand down the front of his shirt.
"Ah, terribly sorry," I apologized, taking a step back.
"Yer gonna be sorry," the mouse replied, glaring at me hatefully.
Instantly on my guard, I frowned at his tone. "See here, it was merely an accident. I'll buy you another drink…" However, as I searched my pockets, I discovered much to my chagrin that I had no money on hand. "I, uh…" I muttered with a grimace. "I seem to have left my money elsewhere…But let me check with my friend over here-"
"So you can make your getaway?" the mouse said with a knowing smile as his friends came to his side, blocking my way. "How stupid do you think I am?"
Restraining the urge to answer his inquiry, I held up my hands in defense. "I can assure you that I will return. I don't intend to cross a champion fighter such as yourself."
"Then you've heard of me," he remarked with a sly grin.
"Never," I replied with a shake of the head. "All I know is that you are an experienced boxer, though your current occupation is that of a worker down by the docks, that you've recently returned from abroad on the Continent, and that you're a heavy drinker."
As expected, his jaw gaped open in surprise, but a moment later his face grew dark. "Wait a minute, I know you…" he said as the realization dawned on him. "You're that nosy detective what threw my brother in jail!"
And once again, my reputation precedes me, I thought with a grimace. "Basil of Baker Street, at your service. Now, step aside, and let me borrow some money from my companion-"
"I said, yer not goin' anywhere," the mouse growled, placing a restraining hand upon my shoulder.
I gritted my teeth in annoyance, grimacing at the stench of alcohol on his breath. This mouse was clearly looking for a fight…and I was only too glad to give it to him. However, I didn't want to be the cause of ruin for Dawson's party, so I attempted one last time to end the dispute peacefully. "I strongly suggest you remove your hands from me-"
I was cut off as the mouse suddenly threw a hard punch at my face, throwing my head back from the force. He and his friends laughed harshly in amusement. With my blood boiling, I immediately retaliated by throwing a swift right hook, and was rewarded with a howl of pain from my attacker. His companions rushed to his aid, but I easily avoided their attacks. As I kicked one of them in the stomach, he staggered backward and fell onto a table, upsetting the card game that was taking place there, which started an all-out brawl as everyone else in the tavern joined in.
I looked about hastily for Dawson, when suddenly the boxer grabbed me from behind and locked his arms around my throat, choking me. There was a loud smash, and he released me, crashing to the floor in a heap. I looked up, and there stood Dawson, a broken bottle in his hand.
"Always making friends, aren't you?" Dawson remarked as he helped me off the floor.
"Thanks," I muttered. "But I have a feeling you only made him angrier…" We both turned to face the mouse, who charged at us with two others.
Needless to say, minutes later the champion boxer was lying out cold on the floor with a broken nose, two cracked ribs, and a dislocated jaw, and his friends various other injuries, while I only suffered a black eye and a wounded ego as we were thrown out of the tavern.
"I did warn the fellow," I muttered to Dawson, straightening my tie as the music picked up and the wedding ceremony began.
"Yes, and then you knocked his front teeth out."
"It was merely self defense."
"If you hadn't provoked him, there wouldn't have been a need for self defense."
"If he hadn't been so difficult, I wouldn't have provoked him." Dawson chuckled, shaking his head incredulously. "Never a dull moment with you, Basil. That's something I'll miss…" he trailed off awkwardly, and I averted my gaze, looking down at the floor.
This whole marriage business had been…a rather sensitive topic. Attempting to lighten the mood, I leaned closer to Dawson's ear so no one else could hear. "You know," I hinted with a slight smile, "there's still time for you to change your mind…When she comes down the aisle and all eyes are on her that will be our opportunity to sneak out the side door here-"
"You are absolutely insane," Dawson replied with a chuckle, rolling his eyes. But he then froze and his eyes grew wide as he beheld his bride, who awaited her turn as the flower girls strewed small white rose petals on the path down the aisle.
The small orchestra began the wedding march, and all eyes turned to the lovely bride as her father escorted her down the aisle. Violet was a stunning woman; light creamy fur, long light brown hair pulled back on her head with a few stray curls framing her face. Her wedding dress was a simple white gown with few embellishments. She smiled at Dawson through the thin veil covering her face, causing the him to blush slightly as he returned the smile. She turned to embrace her father, then took Dawson's hand as she stood by his side.
I rarely allowed emotions to overcome me, relying solely on logic and reason, as emotions are normally a hindrance when investigating a case. Yet as the ceremony progressed- the reverend reciting the usual nuptials, the loving couple exchanging their vows- I was surprised at the way I felt. It wasn't…jealousy, necessarily. Though I had felt a bit neglected since Dawson had begun courting her. Of course, he still assisted me on some cases; but I began to see less and less of him. It seemed that whenever he wasn't administering to patients at his medical practice, he was busy trying to win her affections.
Though I can't say I disliked Miss Violet. On the contrary, I was actually rather fond of her. Like Dawson, she was a kind and caring individual. They were the perfect match for each other, and would turn out to be a lovely family.
The thought of Dawson being a father brought a smile to my lips. I recalled his reaction to Olivia during the Flaversham case: how protective he had become of her, how wretched he felt when she had been kidnapped on his watch in the toyshop, the kindness he'd shown to her when her father had been abducted before her very eyes, how he had stopped to help her when she most needed it. Yes, there was no doubt that that the good doctor would make a wonderful husband and father.
Of course, I did feel a bit saddened that he was leaving Baker Street. However, this was his choice, and if it made him happy…I supported him one hundred percent, and felt privileged to be witness to the love they shared.
But that was just it; I had never experienced that kind of love for someone. Love for my family, yes: but never the kind of love that Dawson and Violet seemed to have for one another. I suppose that was why I seemed so averse to the thought of marriage…because it was such a foreign idea to me.
My thoughts were interrupted as Dawson turned to me for the ring. I fumbled in my pocket awkwardly, suddenly aware that all eyes were now focused on me. But all went smoothly, and I handed the ring to Dawson with a smile.
Thankfully, the rest of the ceremony went just as smoothly, and soon they were pronounced man and wife. I turned away embarrassedly as Dawson kissed his bride. Arm in arm, they proceeded down the aisle and out of the church.
The wedding reception followed. I smiled as one of the first people to greet the new couple was Olivia Flaversham, who hugged Dawson and Violet tightly. Her smile grew wider as she spotted me, and soon I felt her arms tight around my midsection in a hug. She had grown even taller since we'd last seen her. I chuckled lightly. It was hard to believe that this was the same little girl we had met five years ago. Though it was still plain to see how much she admired me, and she had even showed an interest in detective work herself. She and her father had grown very special to us, becoming like family.
I then stood alone off to the side as the couple were greeted by the rest of their guests; the women gushing over the blushing bride, now "Mrs. Dawson," the men shaking hands with the lucky groom. From my spot under the rose bushes, I observed the newlyweds with great interest. They were always together; no longer two individuals, but now united as one. And when their eyes met…it reminded me of the gaze I'd seen shared between my mother and father.
I had never given much thought to the idea of matrimony myself. If anything, I considered myself to be 'married to my work,' as it were. And as danger is a part of my trade, marriage was simply out of the question. I wouldn't dream of asking someone to share such a burden. But if…and I highly doubt it should ever come to pass…if I were to ever wed…I knew I would want a marriage such as my parents had. Thinking of them conjured up a swarm of memories from my past- some joyful, others painful- and I swallowed the lump that was threatening to form in my throat.
This is ridiculous, I thought a bit irately, trying to distract myself. That I, Basil of Baker Street, should be entertaining thoughts of marriage, of all things. Besides, the only other woman in my life had been…
Charlotte…
NO! I shook my head vigorously, attempting to disperse the invading thought from my mind. Why on earth would I think of that woman at a time such as this? I must never allow myself to think of her as anything other than an adversary. A rather cunning adversary at that. She was a significant reason why my view towards women was a very cautious one. It was because of her that I often mistrusted the female sex. After all, she was one of the very few that had ever defeated me… twice, in fact. I grimaced at the memory of our last encounter…
Get a hold of yourself, Basil! I shouted inwardly, grinding my teeth together in irritation. Thankfully, a distraction was provided in the form of Dawson and Violet approaching me as they were finally able to gain a respite from the crowd.
Miss Violet regarded me with the most beautiful of smiles. It was clear to see that any male would be taken aback by her beauty. "Thank you so much for coming, Mr. Basil," she said. "And for all you've done to help with the wedding. It means the world to David and I, and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts."
"You're very welcome, my dear," I replied, bowing slightly as I felt myself blushing. "I'm uh, sorry I kept him out so late last night."
"No trouble at all," she replied, chuckling lightly. "From what David told me, it seems that the party turned out to be rather exciting after all."
I raised my eyebrow at Dawson, who shifted anxiously. "What, you thought it would be boring?"
Dawson cleared his throat nervously. "Well, um…I-I just didn't know what you had planned…"
"Oh, I see," I replied with a sly smile. "The thought of Basil of Baker Street, Mousedom's most eligible sociopath, hosting a bachelor party is quite daunting."
The three of us laughed good-naturedly. It was actually nice, I thought, to share such a moment amongst friends, seeing as I had very few.
"Well, you did an excellent job," Dawson said.
"I thought you would be angry with me…you know, for the fight."
"Haha, not at all," Dawson replied, clapping me on the back. "Actually, I rather enjoyed it. It's been, what, a few weeks since we last got into a bar fight with unsavory criminal types?"
"Indeed," I chuckled, remembering all the disputes we had been in while undercover during a case. "And I'm sure it wasn't our last. We shall have to do it again some time. Provided your wife doesn't object," I added with a wink.
Miss Violet chuckled. "So long as it doesn't become a regular occurrence."
Taking his pocket watch from his pocket, Dawson gasped at time. "Oh, we're going to be late for our train. Come along, dear, we'd better hurry!"
The two hastily made their way towards Toby, who would carry them to the train station. Despite the tension between them when they first met, the basset hound had come to adore Dawson…especially since he'd gotten rid of that coat stitched with thread made from catgut.
The wedding guests bid the couple farewell before they departed on their honeymoon. I tried to stay as close to them as I could, fearing I wouldn't get a chance to say goodbye. But as we reached the Toby, I felt Miss Violet throw her arms around my neck, thanking me again. I embarrassedly returned the embrace, bidding her farewell.
I then turned to Dawson. Suddenly, my mind went blank, and I wasn't sure what to say. How on earth would I convey into words how grateful I was to him for the companionship he'd given me?
"Well-" we both began at the same time.
"No, no, you first," he added hastily.
"A-Alright. Um…" I cleared my throat, searching for the right words to say. Sentimentality wasn't one of my strong suits. As I regarded my friend, that pang of sadness returned as the memories came flooding back. Those long conversations by the fire, the days he had spent tending to me when I was sick or injured, the times he'd dragged me out of my blackest pits of depression. The many vicious criminals we had defeated together since we first met, the near-death experiences we had encountered during cases; in fact, I owed my very life to this mouse, for if it weren't for him, I would have surely died on numerous occasions…most notably that night so many years ago at the hands of Professor Ratigan. Actually, if it weren't for Dawson helping Olivia, I might not have ever gotten the opportunity to defeat him, and Ratigan himself could be ruling over Mousedom as we speak.
"Thank you, Dawson" I began haltingly. "For um…for everything. I-I know we haven't known each other but for a few years, but…you are the greatest friend anyone could ever ask for, and um…I-I appreciate you putting up with me for so long, though I know I've tried your patience often…and um… I-I wish you and Violet the best of luck and happiness for years to come."
We stood there awkwardly for a moment, until Dawson pulled me into a light embrace. "Thank you, Basil," he said, the emotion in his voice showing that he was truly moved. "That…that means a great deal to me. You are also the best friend I've ever had, and I'm…I'm very grateful for our friendship."
I was also moved by his words, and returned the embrace. "You're very welcome, chap," I replied quietly.
We quickly separated, a bit embarrassed. Dawson cleared his throat, and shook me by the hand. "Now if you ever need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call upon me. I'll not be far from Baker Street, after all. As you know, you're welcome to visit us anytime."
"Duly noted," I replied. "And the same for you. And should you ever require my assistance, I'll be available. And I'm sure I'll call upon you soon. I know you can't resist the thrill of the hunt for long."
"Very true," Dawson replied with a chuckle. "I look forward to it."
At last, the time had come for the couple to depart, and Dawson hastily helped his wife up onto Toby's back before he mounted behind her. Toby took off at a trot, and the new Mr. and Mrs. Dawson waved as they moved further and further into the distance.
The same feeling of gloom descended upon me again, and I sighed sadly.
But this wasn't the end, was it? I hadn't lost him; he was simply moving into a new chapter of his life. He would still be there. I knew that I would still be able to count on him. Taking comfort in that thought, I waved as the couple shrank into the distance.
"Farewell, old friend," I remarked with a smile. "Until next time."
Author's Note: Hahaha, "Best Mouse"...Well, they are rodents, after all! XD
This is basically for Valentine's Day, since it has a theme of love. I admit, it was inspired by Sherlock Holmes 2: A Game of Shadows. Especially the "stag party" XD Anyway, ever since I saw that movie, I've been wanting to write how Basil would feel should Dawson ever choose to marry.
I named Dawson's wife Violet because it seemed that there were an awful lot of Violet's in the original Holmes' stories, so I thought that might be a little homage to that. Also, I've said before that I was going to have Clifford be Basil's brother's name, since he was actually in a comic, but I changed it to Byron because I wanted to come up with my own original name, plus I wanted to keep all the siblings names starting with B: Basil, Brynna, and Byron. And Charlotte is my version of Irene Adler. I'll make a story for her later *wink*
I hope I did alright writing from Basil's POV. It's much more difficult to get inside his head and think like him. I know I didn't go into a lot of detail with the actual wedding, but I wanted to focus mainly on the emotions here. Plus since it's Basil's POV, I don't think he'd be too occupied with the aesthetic beauty of the place. But I hope I got the point across without being too corny or sappy. Of course he's sad that his best friend's leaving, but he's happy that Dawson's happy, and completely supports him. And I did NOT intend for this to be slashy at all, so if it comes off that way to some, just know it wasn't intentional ;)
Thanks to everyone who offered me advice on this a couple weeks ago in my DA journal entry. I greatly appreciate it -hugs- 3