Today's prompt: A small creature sheltering in a mitten (from cjnwriter).

"Holmes, have you seen my mitten?" Dr. John Watson called out as he scoured the flat, searching high and low for his absent winter-wear, and there were many places they could have been hiding amidst the clutter. "One of them appears to be missing."

Sherlock Holmes did not even glance up from his chemicals. He was doubled over, peering intently at a vial of clear liquid as he held a dropper over it, adding a reagent drop by drop. With his free hand, he waved Watson off and otherwise paid his companion no heed.

Finally, Watson threw up his hands and exclaimed in exasperation, "I'll never find it in this infernal mess."

He glanced out the window. The snow swirled past, to settle on the street below. People hurried to and fro, their breath curling around them like smoke. It was too cold to go without and if he did not go soon, he would be late.

At last, he declared, "You're not thinking of going anywhere, are you? Could I take yours?"

He was met by yet another dismissive wave and took it as permission.

Watson returned to the flat some hours later to find Holmes's chemistry experiment complete, for the time being. Instead, the detective had curled up in his chair and set about filling the room with the strong smell of tobacco. He gazed into the fire as though lost to its mesmerizing dance.

But as Watson stepped into the room, Holmes glanced up and fixed him with his keen grey eyes. "There you are, doctor. I was beginning to fear you had gotten lost in the blizzard and were half frozen in some distant alleyway. Come, take off your coat and warm yourself by the fire."

Watson frowned at Holmes's somewhat macabre speculation, but sloughed off his coat, returned Holmes's mittens to the mantle where he had found them, and happily took his usual place by the fire across from Holmes, to bathe in its warming glow.

Holmes leaned back as though to admire the sight of his flatmate thawing from the chill of the winter afternoon. Only when Watson appeared comfortable did Holmes remark, "I have been considering the problem of your missing mitten."

"Have you?" Watson asked with some surprise. "I didn't realize it was worth investigating. I assume I merely misplaced it." He glanced around their sitting room, at all the places a lost mitten could be hiding.

"Keeping my Boswell's hands warm is a matter of utmost importance," Holmes insisted. He glanced down at Watson's hands, raised in front of the fire to soak up the warmth.

Watson flushed a little at the compliment - or perhaps it was just from the heat.

Holmes took a long drag on his pipe before he continued, "Let us begin from the hypothesis that your mitten was merely misplaced. When did you last wear them?"

Watson hesitated.

"What of my mittens," Holmes asked with a wry smile. "When did I last wear them?"

After a moment's pause, Watson said, "Yesterday, in the afternoon, I believe, we went for that walk in the park. I think that was the last time I left the flat before today, and I was inside all morning."

"Excellent, Watson. I concur. Now, do you recall where you placed them upon our return?"

"I thought I left them with my coat, and one was there when I was looking for them earlier, but the other had gone."

Holmes nodded. "In this case, I have the advantage of having seen you put them there, and I can attest for a fact that I did not touch them. I presume you took no midnight jaunt?"

Watson shook his head.

"And I have already taken the liberty of asking Mrs. Hudson when she brought up the tea. No one else has entered this flat in the time in question. Therefore," Holmes concluded, "we can conclude that no human is responsible for the absence of your mitten."

"Then what could have happened to it?" Watson exclaimed. "It can't have wandered off on its own."

"No, I find that highly unlikely," Holmes said with some humor. "We have eliminated the impossible, now what remains?"

Watson stared blindly at the fireplace, attempting to wade through Holmes's logic. "You said no human," he remarked at last. "What do you mean?"

"Capital, Watson!" Holmes exclaimed. "That is the question exactly! If not human, then what?" He leaned forward in eager pursuit.

"An animal, then?"

Holmes urged him on.

"In here? It can only be a mouse."

"I am inclined to think so," Holmes said. "And now that we know the thief, he can lead us to his ill-gotten gains. If you were a mouse, where would you hide a mitten?"

"Where? I don't know, in my hole, I suppose."

"Let us see." Holmes hoisted himself to his feet, only to drop to his hands and knees and scurry around the room, examining the base of the wall, where it met the floor.

At last he exclaimed "Aha!"

Watson leaped up to join him. He peered over Holmes's shoulder and sure enough there was his missing mitten, stuffed into a little hole in the wall.

"Careful," Holmes cautioned as Watson reached over to pick it up.

Watson gingerly lifted the top of the mitten and tugged it out of the hole. Inside was what looked like a little bundle of cloth. Suddenly it moved and Watson pulled back his hand as though burned.

The mitten shifted and a small nose poked out, followed by a pair of mice squeaking in a way that could only be described as indignant as they scurried back into their hole. Holmes and Watson could hardly believe their eyes; for a moment they both fancied the mice were dressed like proper gentlemen in miniature.

They exchanged a glance and Holmes let out a barking laugh. "There is your mitten, doctor. And if we were to tell anyone how it was recovered, I am afraid we would both be sent to the madhouse without a second thought."

Note: With this prompt, I just had to include Basil and Dr. Dawson (from Basil of Baker Street or The Great Mouse Detective), if only as a cameo.