Chapter 2

October 1906

For the glorious Empire, fall was in the air. The fresh cool breeze swept through the London streets as leaves of red, orange, and brown followed in pursuit. Couples young and old walked along the sidewalks, never minding the others around them. All that mattered was the love they felt for one another; the happiness that they both gained.

In a way, the same could be said for Basil of Baker Street as he stared out the window which looked onto the busy cobblestone street. For once in the last several months, he seemed calm and collected. Taking a deep breath, he allowed the crackles and snaps of the burning fire relax him. Reaching into the pocket of his smoking jacket, his heart sank when instead of his pipe, a small velvet box was what occupied the small space. Taking another rugged breath, he pulled the small box from its temporary home and glared at it with such dismay.

Four months prior, after some assistance from Dawson, Basil had went out and purchased an engagement ring for his beloved Paula. He knew that she was a simple kind of mouse, so simple was what he found. Opening the lid, inside, tucked in a gentle bed of red velvet, was a ring that seemed to be made only for his lover. With a thin band, on top was a light purple—almost amethyst—jewel surrounded by small diamonds. As nervous as he was, he was anxious for the moment that he would ask for her hand in marriage.

Sadly, at the worst opportune moment, Paula was struck with what at first was a mild case of influenza. So any plans of Basil proposing to her were set on hold until her illness passed. To the detective's dismay, what was at first days became weeks, and soon months. Whatever hopes Basil had for her slowly vanished as her health diminished.

"Jonathan," a weak voice called out, snapping Basil from his painful trance. Closing the box, he placed it back into his pocket before turning around to see Paula standing before him. She was in the same cream coloured nightdress she was in the night before, which irritated Basil greatly. And all she had to keep herself warm was her favourite light purple shawl. Her face pale and her hair slightly ruffled, she still looked beautiful to the detective.

"Paula," he said, "what on earth are you doing out of bed?" She knew right away that he would worry and scold her for being up in her condition, but instead of letting it get to her, she ignored it. "Is something the matter?" he asked. "Is there something you wanted?"

"No," she answered softly. "I just tired of being in that bed any longer."

"But it is in that bed you should be, you know that." Approaching her, he wrapped his arm around Paula as he began to lead her back upstairs to her bedroom to rest but instead of going willingly, she did her best to fight.

"Jonathan, please?" she begged, her tone helpless to his ears. "For months that bed is the only place I have been in. I just want a change of scenery."

Wanting to protest, Basil chose not to as he backed down and led her to his chair. "Fine, at least let me put you by the fire so you can keep warm, it is a bit chilly this afternoon."

Once seated, Basil took a seat in the green chair across from her. They just looked at one another before Paula sighed deeply and gazed over at the warm hearth. The scene broke Basil's heart as she seemed almost hypnotized by the dancing flames. What was she thinking, he would wonder. Whatever thoughts were going through her mind, he was about to find out.

"Jonathan…," she began, almost choking on his name as she spoke, "there is something I must discuss with you."

"What about, exactly?" Basil inquired, fear rising drastically.

"About…about us," she replied painfully, looking away from the fireplace and faced Basil once more. "About where we stand."

"Darling, if I can only explain-"

"No, no, Jonathan, you are mistaken," Paula jumped in hastily. "It is of nothing you've done wrong."

"Oh," he said, feeling relieved that it wasn't anything he did. "Then, pray, what is it about us you wish to discuss?"

Taking a ragged breath, Paula did all she could to gather what strength she had left at the moment. She knew from the start that such a delicate topic as this would break him, but she had to know that no matter what, he would be able to prepare himself for the worst.

"I know that this isn't something we have talked much about—in fact at all," Paula said matter-of-factly before continuing. "And I know it is because you do not wish to hear it, but it is something I feel should be." With a delicate pause, she saw the sense of hurt in the detective's jade eyes. This was what Paula was expecting.

"I just want to be sure that, if anything does happen, that-"

"Paula, why are you talking like this?" Basil questioned painfully, rising from his seat and to the younger mouse in front of him. Dropping to his knees, he took Paula's fragile hands into his own. "You will get better!" he exclaimed almost in a desperate manner. "You will."

"And if I don't, what then, Jonathan?" she demanded. "What then?"

"But you must believe you will. You've made it this far-"

"That is one thing I don't want, especially from you."

"What exactly?"

"False hope, Jonathan," she answered simply. "The more you keep believing I will get better, the moment my health fades just a bit more, the whole world crashes around you. You've done it before."

"You have recovered since then, my love," Basil desperately pointed out. "You are so much stronger than you were a couple months ago."

"That still doesn't mean that I will get better. That only means that I am being given more time." As much as it pained Paula to see her beloved Basil in the state he was in, she at least knew that he would not stop her from discussing it further. "It is also your strength that is keeping me here with you."

"Why do I get the feeling it is the other way around?" Basil asked, trying to lighten the situation for not just Paula, but for him as well.

"If it is, then it seems to be working out for the both of us," Paula stated, giving a light chuckle. "I just wish for you not to be so depressed."

"Who said I was?"

"Since I have fallen ill, not once have you taken a single case. All you have done is taken care of me."

"That is because you are my priority," Basil said gently. "You are the most important thing in my life and I will do all I can to make sure you are well again."

"Jonathan, I have Mrs. Judson and Dr. Dawson as well. You have a duty to serve and that is to protect us and the other mice of this city from the cruel underworld. So many mice have turned to you for help and you cast them aside. That is not like you at all. Yes, I want you here with me, but I also want you to be out there helping those that desperately need it."

"My dear, I can assure you that all that has come my way, anyone from Scotland Yard could easily solve it with their eyes closed."

"But what about all those missing mice cases Vole has been coming to you with for the last several weeks?" Paula asked. Basil was surprised that she even knew about that. Had Dawson or his landlady spoken to her about it when he wasn't around? It seemed so for only they knew. Paula could see that Basil was annoyed that either of them would tell her. Placing a hand on his cheek, she smiled lovingly.

"Don't be so cross," she told him gently, "I asked Dawson to tell me when he came to check on me earlier. Plus, Mrs. Judson has been giving me a copy of the daily paper and that was all the front pages were plastered with, so I figured Vole must have come to you about them. You must assist him, Jonathan. He seems to be desperate."

Though he wished to debate about that, Basil chose to back down since now wasn't the time to do such a thing. Instead, he gave Paula a soft smile and placed his head on her lap. He soon relaxed as Paula brushed her fingers lightly through his dirty blonde hair. She always did this when the detective was stressed over a case and for Paula it was a better alternative than him harming himself with the needle and cocaine. Basil never knew that she was aware of his addiction, but since they began courting, that insidious habit of his ceased, at least she hoped it did. Since she became ill, however, she feared that it would lead Basil down that dark path once more. As far as she knew, that had not occurred.

For what seemed like hours, the two mice remained until the tranquil moment stopped abruptly by Paula's coughing fit. Almost like an instant reaction, Basil got to his feet and began to rub Paula's back, while at the same time, did his best to fight back the fresh sting of tears. He knew each cough had to sting like a thousand blades scraping across her throat and chest, but like the strong woman she was, not once did she shed a tear. When her fit was over, Basil poured a small glass of water from the pitcher nearby and handed to her to drink.

Placing the empty glass on the table by the chair, Basil wasted no time as he took Paula into his arms and carried her up to his bedroom. She did not protest for she was too weak to utter a word when he laid her down on the mattress and covered her fragile body with the thick blankets. Taking a seat on the bed beside her, Basil brushed away the few loose stands of hair from her face. He placed his hand on the side of her cheek and without caring about what would happen to him, he leaned downward, but was soon stopped.

"Don't," Paula objected.

"Just one kiss, darling, please," the detective begged softly.

"I don't want you to get sick as well."

"If fate wishes that to be so, then I welcome it."

Not saying another word, Paula did not fight back as Basil caught her lips with his own in a loving kiss. This was a feeling he missed all too well as his heart raced faster. When he felt Paula relax, he took the opportunity as their kiss deepened and every ounce of love they felt for one another was released into that single moment. When they finally parted, they gazed at each other, smiling as they basked in the loving glow.

"Well, I must leave you to rest," Basil finally said, but as he got up to leave, he was stopped.

"Please," he heard Paula plea, "don't go. Not just yet."

Giving her another smile, he answered, "If you wish."

With what strength she had left, Paula scooted over so that there was plenty of space for Basil on the bed. Confused at first, he carefully laid down beside her, wrapping an arm around her as he rested his head on her shoulder. Just like earlier, Paula lightly brushed her fingers through his hair. He kept still as he listened to the beat of her heart. It when he wondered, how much longer would it keep on beating? He feared that Paula would be right and it would not be too long before she would take her final breath and slip from his arms indefinitely. Could he really handle that big of a loss? He just didn't know. He has already lost his mother and father, losing Paula would no doubt kill him. During all these painful thoughts, he was made unaware that the young mouse beside him had drifted off to sleep, as carefully as he could so not to disturb her, Basil climbed off the bed, kissing her forehead. She looked so peaceful, so innocent. He couldn't lose her, not now. Not ever.

"I love you," he whispered as a tear streamed down his cheek. Kissing her hand, he sighed deeply before taking his leave.

Perhaps assisting Vole wouldn't be such a horrid idea after all, Basil thought inwardly. It would keep my mind on other things.

Rushing back to the ground floor, he was met with Mrs. Judson who has just returned from the market with a basket of meat and produce.

"I'm going out," Basil announced before slipping into his Inverness coat. "Paula is resting in my room, be sure to check on her in an hour."

"Yes, Mr. Basil. Would you like me to inform Dr. Dawson of your departure?"

"That won't be necessary. I should be back before he returns."

"How is she?" the landlady asked. This caused the detective to freeze, almost as if he had just been stabbed in the back with a sharp dagger. Should he lie or be honest?

"It's one of her better day," was all he said before grabbing his deerstalker and left without another word.