Grace

Basil of Baker street woke as he always did, his mind whirling with dozens of thoughts at a time, jumping from tangent to tangent in a quick, flurrying rhythm that was nostalgic and easy as breathing. He woke slowly, trying to accustom his brain from the slow, waltz of sleep into the quick tango that was the awaken state. He sat up in his familiar comforter, eyes still closed as the analyzed everything in his mind quickly, sorting both text and imagery in quick succession to get something resembling order.

He crossed his legs where he sat, and breathed deep. Only when his chaotic mind was in some semblance of order, did his emerald eyes finally opened, slowly, waiting for the assault of sunlight. His pupils dilated at the morning, and he flinched at the sensation of the weak and beginning of the dawn light filtering through his dusty curtains. He smiled with slight amusement, knowing that Mrs. Judson would have his head if she ever saw such a sight. But, like the parlor, his bedroom was his own domain, and not many alive had seen it, other than himself that was.

But, at the same sight, as he stretched his arms above his neck, rolling it, he found that the dust added some semblance of a filter on the dawn light, anyway, and he preferred dirt to the over bright light in the morning. As he eased out of bed, glancing around the room with some semblance of a pity for the woman who had been with him since childhood, but still adamant that what he liked to call his organized chaos worked well enough for him, and would stay as long as his mind worked better with it.

He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes as he always did, stretching his back muscles carefully. He gathered some clothing, his bathing necessities, and headed to the bathroom nearest to his room. The flat was still quiet he thought, bare feet padding on both hardwood and carpet on his daily journey.

It always was at this time which Basil could think the best about personal matters, Mrs. Judson herself would not wake until more dawn rays hit the somewhat dark sky he saw outside the few windows. And, as he suspected, his guest would not wake for more hours yet. It was a somewhat of his only alone time, and he relished it well enough, stepping down the familiar hall, opening the door to his bathroom.

He waited for the water, and slipped in with relish the second it was warm enough not to scald. His relaxed, not in a hurry to get himself clean, but instead intent on thinking. Tilting his head back, he looked to the ceiling knowing already the count of the tiles, as he had long since counted them, but feeling nostalgic enough to do it again.

Johnny had always teased him for such things, he thought fondly.

He had teased him for a great amount of things, really, as it was part of their strange friendship. It was so easy to remember him now, and he was such a giant clown, he had been the class clown back in college, and it had been ever to Basil ire that he was the punch-line of many of his pranks. He had had a good heart though, as large and somewhat thick-skulled as he had been, Johnny had been ever kind. Thinking of Johnny, made him of other things, and his mind went to his parents. He flinched slightly at the thought. His parents had been his world, and his best friends at the time of their deaths.

His calm, serious father who was always a rock in the household where his wife, and his son were eccentric geniuses who would drive most, including themselves, mad. With his dark eyes and slightly crooked smile he had been his role model, a detective himself. His mother... Well his mother had been on par with him, always on the same page and always there to understand with those emerald eyes, so much like his own staring out of her handsome face.

She had been his muse, mother, friend, and partner in crime all in one. She had been the smartest mouse he had ever known, and sometimes when he couldn't think or set the things right he would think of her and her thought process. Mostly, she would help put things into perspective, and he loved her all the more for it ... He snorted slightly, and hoped greatly that he had not turned into a sap from staying to much within the warm water.

"Mister Basil, good morning."called out his oldest friend.

He blinked away the sleepy effect the water had caused.

"Good morning Mrs. Judson."he responded, sitting up from his lounging position.

He finished quickly then, knowing that that good morning had been a waring for breakfast, and lamenting that he had spent to much time in the water. He felt a tad dizzy, though, he thought as he fixed his tie firmly, it could be just himself in general that was feeling off. He got dressed quickly, and looked in the mirror, it had been meant to be a fleeting glance while he fixed his hair, but something in his face caught his usually wondering attention.

It was strange, only eight years and the stress of those years had taken a toll, he thought. The lines beneath his eyes seemed to have become deeper, and become of that the darkness of the bruises seemed all the more prominent. He was, he knew, a vain man, and as he stared at his reflection, could not help but feel a twinge of remorse for all those nights he stayed awake, and all those nights that blended into mornings, and then to days, and then to nights once again. He snorted softly, pushing back his unkempt hair, vaguely reminding himself that he had to get it cut.

It seemed that always slipped his mind.

He shook his head, inspecting his eyes with care. Tired, was one of the adjective that he always use. Bright is another. It seemed as if that was always constant in his life, being tired, and being bright. He snorted slightly, adjusted his jacket and walked out the bathroom door. He felt off even with the cooler air outside the steamy bathroom. It was with this sense that Basil crashed headlong into someone much shorter than him, nearly knocking them to the floor and catching them around the waist before it could happen.

When blue met his emerald, he took a breathe, and quickly steadied the young girl and took a scrambling step backwards, feeling as though the limb that had caught her had been burned. He noted as the slightly flustered Olivia adjusted her lilac dress, that even after knowing that she was in his home that it was a surprise to the young lady there at all.

"Basil, Good morning."she said with a sweet smile, tucking a stray strand of her darker hair behind her ear.

"Morning Olivia." he said with a smile of his own appearing without his consent.

She smiled again, her lips twitching upwards in a quick movement.

"Mrs. Judson call on you as well?"she asked.

He nodded, another smile appearing on his lips.

"She makes for an excellent time piece."he said jokingly.

"She always knows when tea time is."she agreed in a serious tone, ruined by the upwards twitch of her lips. It was as if she was trying very hard not to smile for the sake of the joke, and it made him want to laugh all the more.

They walked in companionable silence to the dinning room, and greeted Mrs. Judson in turn. The meal that they had was relatively the same as yesterdays, simple and light. When it came to the spice sausages, they still fought though this time Basil managed to win it over Olivia's fork. The owner of said fork seemed mildly put out, but cheered up when Mrs. Judson gave her the last of the eggs. Basil himself sighed at his own antics with the younger mouse, fighting off a grin at the way he was acting. He hadn't acted like this with another person since John had decided to pester him the very first time in the library. He soon sobered up pretty quickly when he thought of John.

It seemed like a life time ago, he had first seen the tall, broad shoulder mouse, grinning at him with a crocked sort of grin, eyes bright and full of humor. He had seen those same eyes blank and gray, flat, and dead. He frowned, and pushed away the remainder of his breakfast away.

"Mr. Basil."came out the reprimanding tone of Mrs. Judson. It was her usual flustered tone, but at the same time it sounded so gentle that it soothed him immensely as it irritated him.

He knew that tone, that inflection. It was the same as the one she had first given him when his parents had died... Eleven years ago, oh, how the time had passed. He grimaced. It had been too little time since he had heard that tone. He had last heard it eight years ago when Ratigan had died. His fist clenched.

"Mrs. Judson, despite the wonderfully prepared food, I find myself absolutely without appetite."he said, firmly, in a tone that left room for no argument. When his oldest companion started to protest, he simply gave her a look.

It was a flat one, and it was one he ever rarely dare give to her. It was not a pleasant one. It was also one he loathed to give to the sweet woman. Her lips were pressed firmly in a straight line, and she sighed tiredly.

"Very well Mr. Basil."She said it grudgingly and she quickly set to clean the mess he had made with his dinnerware. Olivia's dark eyes, followed his every movement, missing nothing.

He quickly, and as politely as he could, excused himself from the table. Running from those dark eyes, or the disappointment in Mrs. Judson face, he was not sure... Perhaps from both. His first task was to play his violin, heart aching and a frown on his face. He did it with little joy. It wasn't about the pleasure that it brought him, even if there was plenty of that on any other day than today. It was a release, however, a way to express the emotions turning like a tempest within him.

"Do you always play when your upset?"

Basil jumped nearly a mile high... Or, well, he almost touched his ceiling at the very least. He turned to the sound of the slightly amused voice, and was somewhat surprised to see Olivia there. Mrs. Judson was never one to bother him when he was in his 'moods', and he half expected Olivia to follow on that principal... But at the same time, he felt as if he had forgotten her all together. He knew, logically, that she had been there all along, but since the girl had only really come a day before yesterday, he figured he had a little excuse to forget that she was going to be with him for a while.

"When the mood strikes me."he replied.

"Mostly it's a foul one I see."she said back, raising a brow.

"Not always."

She looked doubtful, and he found himself irritated at her disbelief.

"Then play something that's not tormented."

Her honest, and somewhat encouraging tone gave him slight pause, and he scowled.

"Why? What is there to be glad about?"

She frowned at his tone, and looked away. She couldn't deny he didn't have much to celebrate, and he sort of tired to will her to leave in his mind. She just stood there, instead, chewing on her lower lip will twisting her hands slightly as they came together. Then, as if a bolt of lightening hit her she jumped, eyes widening and something akin to victory coming into her expression. When she turned back with a triumphant grin, he questioned her sanity.

"The fact that you know your going to catch the monster that did this?"

Basil blinked, the bluntness of her words held little tack, and quiet frankly was brutally frank. But it made him smile, and he picked up the violin again. He played fierce and fast. It wasn't exactly elegant nor glad... But it was sound of victory and justice. When her voice joined the fray, wordless and loose, he almost stumbled in his playing. He was glad didn't. It was as if she was joining in with the sound of triumphant. Like a fellow solider or warrior celebrating the victory of a battle along his side.

Though without actual grand voice, Olivia sang with purpose and with a quiet sort of beauty that wasn't really one to go beyond the home. She wasn't a diva, far from it, but her voice held infliction and rawness that suited his wild violin. He played until his arms nearly fell off, and she sang until her voice began to grow hoarse. When it was all said and done she smiled at him, and tilted her head to the side in her curious habit.

"So how do you feel?"she asked, or really croaked at him.

Basil paused to examine himself. For a second, he wondered really what did he feel, and he was surprised at the answer.

"Better. Energized."he said, and smiled at the girl.

Her answering smile could light up the world.

He found himself wondering why he hadn't ever seen her for so long. It wasn't a sudden thought, it was one that like many things, took a step thought in his mind while more important things took a more central stage. But now it barreled its way in front of the other thoughts raging in his head.

Eight years had passed in a flash and he had never made any serious attempt to keep in contact with her. He had a pretty regular correspondence with Hiram, her father, but not her. Hiram only ever mentioned her in passing, and the only letter he had ever received from her was tucked away in a box that held all of his truly important things.

But the letter he himself had sent back had never been answered. The lack of communication was on both their parts, as he had never considered sending a letter simply to send a letter... He wasn't exactly the most regular person to write too... Most of his friends knew that if they did not send him a letter, he himself would forget and not make the first contact... But, well, they were both at fault he supposed, since she had never inclined to write again...What was he suppose to do now? What were they suppose to do with each other?

She was important to him, he could see that, but as what? He couldn't quite place where she would fit, even if she did fit into his small circle of what he felt was family. He didn't know where... He couldn't really give what she was, a comfortable title in which to settle her into. Basil wasn't the most organized of mice, he knew he was one of the least in fact, but mentally he had a name and place for everything. Even if said category really made sense to him, it was there nonetheless.

Her presence was just... Forward, no pretense nor mask in her unless she was working... Such a peculiar girl he thought, watching her as she watched him, a sort of stilling grace to the way she stood, hands relaxed at her sides. She always seemed to be noticeable, with the subtly of bull in a china shop, but silent and able to blend in well enough and walk quite enough that she could get the drop on him. He stepped forward, his violin placed offhandedly on the green armchair.

She must have stepped forward as well, because she was suddenly there, just in front of him. She was fairly small enough that she had to tilt her head back to look at him, and her face was thoughtful as his must have been. Again, the fact that the young lady in front of him was a relative stranger was just so glaring at that moment. He saw glimpses of the little child of before, and it was obvious how much she had grown from that girl that had been so small in his arms a mere eight years before. But there was something so startlingly new about her, something that he couldn't quite place or put a name to.

She smiled, and he found himself smiling back. It wasn't as smile ether of them could identify, it could have been understanding or bliss, or a rueful smile of time lost, one of new beginnings or something else entirely. Or it could have been all of those together. But whatever smile it was, Basil tore his gaze away at the sound of the knock. She stepped back, or he did, he wasn't sure, and he went to the door, and opened it.

Hiram Noir stood on his doorstep, grimacing in the morning light. Basil blinked, any lingering haziness for what had just happened with Olivia gone in an instant.

"Mr. Basil."said the man in curt greeting, his head inclined the smallest amount. It was a wonder he had added the 'Mr' and it was obvious to Basil that it had been forced out.

He wondered why he had forced himself to do so.

"Officer Noir."he responded, just as curt. The man eyes narrowed and Basil found himself mirroring the action.

"Is Miss Flaversham here? I was told by the Doctor and Mrs. Dawson that she would be."asked the man, rather rudely in Basil's highly esteemed opinion. He had no right to sound so upset really.

This man did not like Basil, for a reason that Basil could not, nor cared to fathom. He did not like the man back for his rather lacking behavior and unprofessional. He was a hothead, and though a decent officer(as grudgingly he could admit that), nothing but idiotic and stubborn. They had caused many scenes of screaming matches on crime scenes and at Scotland Yard. But Basil was sheepish to admit the reason he allowed such a hatred to escalate so much was because he also found the young Officer's reactions the most hilarious thing on the planet.

"Good Morning, Officer Noir, how may I help you?."said Olivia, appearing at his elbow, a polite smile on her face.

"Yes, well, Good Morning."he said softly, a small smile twitching at his lips.

Basil frowned, and hoped that the young man wasn't about to ask anything discourteous. If he was here to flirt he would have to be drastic, and the door would be slammed in his face in about five seconds flat. The smile on the Officer's face was quick to die, and he took off his hat in a gesture of respect to Olivia. Basil found that his paws, gripping the door, tightened to the point where he felt that either the strong oak would break, or his hands would, and he tried to relax the automatic, and strange reaction.

"I came to inform you both, as I have informed your partner, Mr. Basil, that the unfortunate case of Mr. Taylor's murder will be handled solely by the police force. Your contribution to any of the investigation will be discipline, legally if need be."

Basil felt stunned.

His shock lasted all of two seconds before he felt fury enter him. It was hot and potent, ready to be released. Now, Basil was not a violent mouse. But he had never wanted nothing more than to reach over and punch the mouse directly in the face. To his surprise, before he could even make a move, it was Olivia who reacted first.

"What? Why?"she demanded, and he saw her paws clench into fists. Her arm jerked, and Basil could admit at that moment if she punched the man across the snout he would never would be happier.

The Officer drew himself up at her tone, and for a fraction of a second his eyes narrowed.

"Now Miss Flaversham, I understand that you might be upset, but due to the close personal connection of Mr. Basil, the chief has asked him to step down. He isn't partial." Though the majority of that had been directed at Olivia, the last part had been sneered out, and Officer Noir had directed it straight at him.

Basil stood straighter, his own eyes narrowing at the man in front of him. It wasn't hard to do what he did next, and though he was flattered by Olivia's spluttering rage beside him and her furious step forward, he took even more pleasure in guiding her back into the house by her waist, an action that made Officer Noir twitch, and promptly Basil smiled.

"Very well Officer, now kindly get the bloody hell off my property. Good day."he said pleasantly, and with that lovely message, slammed the door in his face as he had so desperately wished to do the second he had seen him so much as look at Olivia.

He glanced back to see a fuming young woman, and grinned as she scowled at the door.

"I do believe more music time is in order... That or we can lynch the young Officer to a pulp."he said conversely, placing his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the door.

Olivia let out a strangled laugh.

"Can we please go for option two?"

"As entertaining as that would be, no... After all blood stains are such a tiresome thing to take out, I find we have a better option."

"And what, pray tell, is that?"she asked, frustration in her voice.

He smiled, and he knew it to be fierce and defiant, and maybe even a little mad.

"We do the investigation anyway."

When she grinned up at him, a smile as lunatic and fierce as his must have been, Basil felt that she was just what he needed right now.

AN: I do not, in anyway, shape, or form, own the Great Mouse Detective. It belongs to Disney and its various artists.

I'M ALIVE! Or well, my time/interest for this story is. Now, its been nearly a year...(HOLY COW), and tada, this story is not forgotten! Just... Put to the side until now. I really have no excuse for not writing for this other than other things getting in the way, and my lack of want to write for this. I can't garuente when the next update is, but I do wish to say that it will be a shorter time than this chapter.

Any complaints, flames, or questions welcomed feel free to PM, I'll answer best I can.

Thank you so much for being invested in this story and for sticking to it for this long.

~Peace,

Moon Witch