The Great Mouse Detective: A Biased Judgment

Chapter 2: Because of Sand

No clients visited that day, but it was all just as well. The three of them spent many pleasant hours engaged in animated conversation on various subjects; Basil's old cases, Dawson's time in Afghanistan, foreign art and music... but eventually the visit had to draw to a close, and the detective offered to go with Miss Bloom to find a cab.

Anthia bid Dawson farewell, and she and Basil stepped out into the cool night air to begin their leisurely walk in the direction of the Bloom Estate, keeping a sharp eye out for mouse-hansoms along the way. They talked as they went.

"And then I said; 'Ah yes, well... You will excuse my rudeness, Ratigan. As were I not dangling from a cliff at this moment, I would most certainly give that remark the courtesy of a face-palm.'''

"You didn't!" Anthia giggled.

"Oh, but I did," replied Basil, grinning. "And it infuriated him so!"

"Oh." Anthia looked a bit concerned. "Mightn't it have been better not to provoke him when in such a compromising position?"

"Well.. yes," Basil admitted. "But those were my earlier days. I eventually learned to be a little more sparing with my cutting remarks.. after the Big Ben incident."

"The Big Ben incident?" Anthia tilted her head a bit. "I don't think you ever told me about that one."

Basil averted his eyes slightly. "Oh... well... You remember me telling you about the Flaversham case don't you? The one where I met Dawson? It occurred sometime during that case."

"Well, yes but... I don't recall you telling me about anything particularly dangero—"

"Ahh! Look!" said Basil, pointing across the street at a mouse-hansom (while also conveniently avoiding the subject). "You there!" he called, attempting to gain the cab-mouse's attention. He removed his arm from Miss Bloom's and left her side to get closer. "Ahoy Cabbie!"

Suddenly, a large (human-sized) horse-drawn carriage turned the corner onto the street. The team had obviously been quite spooked by something, and were tearing frantically down the road.. the same road that Basil was currently in the process of crossing.

The detective's focus elsewhere, he didn't notice the incoming danger... But Anthia did, and her eyes widened in realization. Not even having time to think, she darted for him. She didn't have enough strength in her arms alone to pull Basil out of the way, so she threw her whole body into it, causing herself to be thrust forward and into the runaway carriage's path, while simultaneously propelling him away from it.

Basil barely had time for his mind to register what had just happened before he turned to see Miss Bloom disappear into a frenzied stampede of hooves, and when the carriage had passed he caught sight of her wisp of a form - laying limp on the damp cobblestone street.

A look of horror passed over his features. "Miss Bloom!" Snapping himself out of his shock, he scrambled to his feet and ran over to her, skittering to a stop in the middle of the road and falling to his knees next to her.

"M-Miss Bloom?" He extended his trembling hands to her and began checking her for any major injuries... But he didn't see any blood. In fact, she didn't seem to be hurt at all. Her eyelids fluttered open. "B-Basil?" she uttered weakly.

Thank heavens! Oh, thank heavens!

He helped her stand, and hurriedly pulled her safely off to the side and out of the middle of the road.

"Miss Bloom, are you alright?" he asked her, his voice shaking.

"Yes... Yes, I think I'm alright," she replied quietly.

"Are you certain?!" he asked, still inspecting her for signs of bodily harm.

"Yes Basil." She swallowed. "The horses missed me. I'm.. I'm alright."

There was a pause.

"Then what were you thinking!?" he shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders."Did you think I'd be glad!? Did you think I'd be HAPPY if you died instead of me?! How dare you! How DARE you go and put yourself into harm's way like that! If you EVER do something like that again I'll—"

She looked to him, her eyes filled and giving the unmistakable impression that the deepest kind of emotional hurt had just been inflicted. Basil instantly regretted his words. All traces of his anger vanished, and he softened his voice in a feeble attempt to undo the damage.

"Miss Bloom I—"

Her lower lip quivered.

"I didn't mean to—"

She turned aside and hid her face from him, sniffling.

Basil felt an indescribable heaviness settle in his chest. What had he been thinking? She had just risked her life to save his and he chose to repay her by berating and scolding her!? He fumbled for his handkerchief, unsure how his clumsy movements even managed to deliver it into her dainty hands. She brought it up to her eyes and turned away from him a little more, crying into it. Basil swallowed dryly, his 'brilliant mind' unable to think of even a single comforting thing to say, and his tongue tied so thoroughly that not even a word of it could've found it's way out of his mouth anyway.

Many long, horrible moments passed...

And then he heard it...

"W-why?" she whimpered painfully, and he lifted his eyes to look at her. "W-why do I...always c-cry in f-f-front of you?"

He'd been stabbed by blades that didn't cut as deeply as those words did.

"I-I'm n-not w-weak I..." She sobbed. "But w-whenever y-y-you.. s-see m-me I'm... w-why?" Her cries overtook her, and the attempts she made to stifle her wailings were rendered futile.

Because I'm a fool! he wanted to shout. Because I'm the idiot that always MAKES you cry!

But no words came out of Basil's mouth. And for the first time in his life, he felt as though he was being torn apart from the inside. Everything within him wanted to relieve the pain she was feeling. Everything within him wanted him to reach out his trembling hand and pull her close into a warm embrace, accompanied by soft, comfort-filled whispers.

Everything within him wanted him to tell her he loved her.

And only everything that had ever made sense prevented him.

What of his powers? What of his unbiased judgment? What of his work!? Everything that told him he needed him to be clinical, removed, SAFE was shaking. All those years he'd spent, building on what he was sure had been rock, was now threatening to vanish into the wind because of sand!

Her cries were unbearable. Oh, they were unbearable!

He had wanted to run away. Basil of Baker Street; the mouse who'd fought against countless formidable foes in battles of intellect and bested them in even the most treacherous tests of physical strength wanted to run away... from a shivering young woman... standing on this cold, vacant London street... unable to prevent even the smallest of cries from escaping her trembling form.

But whether it was due to the equal pull on both sides of his soul, or simply that his nobility demanded he not abandon her here all alone; he stayed. He stayed, unmoving, with what he knew had to be the most stupid expression that had ever graced a face, strown across his features. Wishing so badly to provide her with some comfort, but finding that he was unable to trust himself to the task in this turbulent moment.

Basil felt something wet on his cheek, and he reached up with a hand to feel... tears? He wiped them away hurriedly, grateful that Anthia couldn't have possibly noticed them through her own.

He briskly walked a little further down the road, and somehow managed to drown his emotions into silence for one cold, forceful shout; "Cabbie!"

Anthia lifted her eyes, the whole world a flurry of greyish blurs, and she flinched as she felt Basil's hands suddenly make contact with her shoulders, carefully, but quickly guiding her into what must have been an awaiting carriage, her shock at this action of his preventing her from even thinking to resist. The door slammed behind her.

"To Rattenhouse Square, The Bloom Estate!" she heard him instruct the cabbie. She felt a sudden jerk that alerted her to the fact that the carriage was now moving, and she blinked away the final remnants of her tears to find herself... alone.

Basil watched the carriage disappear into the distance. He'd apologize for his inexcusable behavior later... He'd thank her for what she'd done later... He'd make amends later... But he could never tell her he loved her... Not ever.