3 a.m. Moriarty had begun stalking the shadows. The brothers Holmes were napping. Only Mrs. Hudson noticed when the shadow-stalking changed dynamics.
As a human she both hated and loathed rodents. As a cat, she was intrigued. As a soft-hearted female, she was mercy incarnate.
Moriarty blinked in surprise at the violent cuffing having. Mrs. Hudson looked down at the mouse solicitously. "Are you all right, sir?" Normally one does not address a mouse as "sir" but then, normal mice do not wear Ivernesses or deerstalkers.
"Quite all right, thank you, ma'am," came the breathless but steady reply. "I trust you did not just save my life in order to end it yourself?"
"Heavens, no!" The tabby looked shocked by the very idea. By this time Sherlock and Mycroft were drawn to the spectacle while Moriarty took a vantage point on the mantle.
"I do beg your pardon for intruding," the mouse continued, "but I was unaware that Mr. Holmes had recently taken in any cats."
"That is because Mr. Holmes IS the cat," Moriarty sneered. "As is his housekeeper, his brother, and . . . myself."
"Ah, 'furries' fanfic!" The mouse nodded knowingly. "It should wear off by morning. If you will excuse me . . ." The mouse darted away under the floorboards.
"A moment!" Sherlock called. "Who are you?"
"Basil."