Chapter 2: Dinner With Mei

It was evening. Shenlock Holmes sat in his seat at the Noodle Shop, at the table Dr. Crane had reserved earlier that day. He scowled, sitting perfectly still; as much as he loved the restaurant itself, he hated coming alone.

And, at least for the moment, that was what he was.

He took in everything...a fact he sometimes hated. Such as now.

He closed his eyes, destroying the bright, garish paper lanterns and the twilight sights, but he still had to comprehend every single sound: the ticking of the clock on the wall near him; the argument from the table across from him; the squeaking of one waiter's sandles; the vile noises of people eating around him; the chef's commands from the kitchen somewhere behind him. The smell of boiling soup and butter and spices and incense filled his nostrils...

"Holmes?"

He opened his eyes. Every sound, smell, and sight was filtered and limited to the pair in front of him.

One was Crane, dressed in his best, lacking his usual straw hat, curiously enough. The other was someone new: a female mountain cat, with tan fur striped in dark brown, her ears the latter color, with slightly rounded tips, her muzzle, the fur around her eyes, and likely her unseen underbelly white. A mark resembling an overturned horseshoe was set on her forehead. She was dressed in a blue dress, with long black gloves covering her paws.

Crane raised an eyebrow as Holmes stared, dryly at the cat.

"You're early," he observed.

Holmes turned back to him, grinning.

"Fashionably."

Crane smirked, and nodded to the cat who stood beside him.

"Me, this is Shenlock Holmes. Holmes, this is Mei Morstan. My fiancé," Crane introduced, stressing the word "fiancé" and looking pointedly at Holmes as he said it.

Holmes ignored him, standing and bowing to the mountain cat.

"A pleasure," he intoned. "Forgive Crane and I; I have not the slightest idea why it has taken so long for us to be introduced."

Mei bowed back, smiling.

"The pleasure is all mine," she said, and the party sat down.

A waiter – a duck – came waddling up.

"What will you be having?"

"The special," all three said at once.

The duck nodded and waddled away.

"It's really a thrill to meet you, Mr. Holmes," Mei said, her long tail whisking behind her excitedly. "Crane's told me everything about you!"

"I sincerely hope not," Holmes mumbled.

The waiter returned with their orders: three bowls of noodle soup.

"Excellent service."

The duck smiled, and moved on to another table.

"Your cases fascinate me," Mei went on. "I have a pile of detective stories at home."

"It's true," Crane put in with a nod and a smile.

"Well, what do you think of them?" Holmes asked.

"I love them...but they do seem far-fetched at times..."

Holmes raised an eyebrow.

"How so?"

"Well...it's just, how can they make such grand choices and discoveries out of small, insignificant details that-?"

"Oh, that's not true."

Mei stopped.

"Sorry?"

"The 'insignificant' part. The small details are usually the most important," Holmes explained, and gestured towards Crane. "Take him..."

"I intend to," Mei said with a laugh.

Holmes looked at her for a moment, but did not even smile.

"As I was saying, take Crane, for example: let's see what the little detail will show us, shall we?"

So saying, Holmes suddenly reeled back and threw a punch towards Crane's face. It was immediately blocked.

"See? Lightning-fast reflexes. A symbol of discipline and skill. From this, I can infer he is a martial artist. Notice the way he sits: erect, neat. Perhaps our subject is military, or a high-grade master, or both. Now, I check his pockets..."

Holmes reached over and did so. Mei giggled as Crane blushed, hanging his head.

"Aha!" Holmes said, holding his prize aloft. "A stub from a sparring match! Now, I can guess he is a bit of a gambler."

Holmes smirked towards Mei, pocketing the stub himself.

"I'd watch your bank account closely, Ms. Morstan. Crane's cost us the rent more than once."

"Those days are behind me," Crane interrupted.

"Indeed. Right behind you," Shenlock countered with a nod.

"Well, that was fun, Mr. Holmes, but, with all due respect," Mei challengd, "You know Crane very well already. What about a stranger?"

She leaned forward, grinning.

"What can you tell about me?"

Holmes gaped.

"...You?"
Crane shook his head, eyes dark.

"I don't think that's..."

"No, not appropriate, I'd say..."

"Not at dinner, at least."

"Well, perhaps some other time..."

"I insist!"

"You insist?"

"I insist."

"Oh, doctor, she insists..."

"Holmes, I told you..."

"The lady insists!" Holmes said, ending the argument, and turned toward Mei, both sides staring at each other intently, while Crane watched, nervously. He'd been afraid of this...

"...You are a teacher. A martial arts master."

Mei grinned a little wider.

"Well done."

"You have a student...I'm going to guess it's a male?"

"Yes."

"Is the boy of age?"

"Chow-Peng is only seven, actually."

"Hm. Well, I deduce then he's a bird, perhaps a stork; flicked a bit of ink at you while you weren't looking, straight at your face."

Mei turned towards Crane, smiling mischievously.

"You didn't tell me I had ink on my face."

"There's NOTHING on your face."

"True," Holmes said. "He must have missed; there are two small spots, one on your ear, and one on your neck. Obviously, an impetuous lad. But, you know better than to react rashly to little things like that: hence you were awarded your mastership at the Lee Da Kung Fu Academy."

Mei tilted her head.

"How did you guess the school?"

"Your scent; it smells vaguely like a particular form of incense that only the Lee Da school uses. Also, you are roughly the same age as Crane, and, though he failed to tell me you both learned your crafts at the same academy, I know he's known you for a long time, so I can infer you went to school together, since he also went to Lee Da."

Mei chuckled, and turned to Crane, smiling.

"You really didn't tell him?" she whispered.

"Nope," Crane said, shaking his head.

THEN...

"However...it's something you DON'T have on you that interests me most of all..."

"Holmes!" hissed Crane.

Mei snapped back around, surprised.

"What?"

"You were engaged: the ring is gone, but the band of lighter colored fur and skin on your left paw's ring digit suggests you broke off the engagement, and the distance from the mountains where you were doubtlessly born to Lee Da suggests you may have spent time travelling, perhaps to forget him, and/or find a new prospect."

Mei was no longer smiling.

Holmes turned back to Crane...

"Doctor, by the way-"

SMACK!

The peacock didn't move a muscle, though he was painfully aware of the stinging sensation across his cheek.

Mei stood, trying to keep herself composed.

"Right about everything, Mr. Holmes," she snarled. "Except for two things: I confront what offends me, regardless of whether it's 'rash." Also...neither of us left. He died."

She nodded towards Crane, who nodded back, both in a near-apologetic way, and then left.

Crane and Holmes sat silent for a while.

"...Well done, Shenlock," Crane said flatly, and also left.

Now, Holmes was alone at the table.

Alone with all the noise.

He ate quickly, shrugging off the slap to the cheek; he needed to get out of here. He hoped to pay a visit to a place where the sound could be his friend...