I hadn't planned on continuing this, but since I had absolutely no free time to think of a fresh idea and I do try to answer requests, this is for ArianneG.
"Of all the inconsiderate, self-centred – men –"
I leaned back, smiling and watching Basil stand, pointing a furry finger (did mice have fingers?) in Holmes's face, giving him a right proper dressing-down.
I heard a soft thump and the mouse's friend landed beside me.
"G-good gracious!"
"Easy, Dawson," I chuckled, "he's not dead, see? Basil had the same reaction I did to seeing Holmes."
"W-what's that?"
"He fainted."
"Basil??"
"Mmhm."
Finally Basil had to stop and breathe, his tiny shoulders heaving.
"Are you quite finished?" Holmes growled.
"For now, yes," Basil snorted, grabbing the drapes and sliding to the floor.
"Wait – where are you going?"
I grinned – Holmes was actually talking to him, bending over awkwardly, following the mouse across our carpet.
"I've a client waiting, Mr. Holmes," Basil said icily, "some of us had to work for a living the last three years!"
Dawson tugged on my coat, and I set him in front of his friend as Holmes winced, spluttering.
"Now see here, Basil –"
The mouse broke into an unexpected snicker, rubbing his wet head with a tiny handkerchief Dawson handed him.
"Whatever happened to 'I don't talk to mice', Mr. Holmes?" he smirked, glancing up at me with a beady wink.
Holmes's face turned another shade of scarlet.
Basil hooted and then disappeared under a loose floor-board.