Danger in the Shadows

Chapter 1: Reunion

Dark storm clouds gathered on the horizon, and the thunder rumbled in the distance, announcing the arrival of yet another storm. The residents of London, humans and mice alike, had been cooped up in their homes for the past three days due to the rain.

One of the many mice who suffered from cabin fever was Dr. David Q. Dawson, who resided at 221½ B Baker Street. He sat awaiting the arrival of his friend and colleague, Basil of Baker Street, the famous Great Mouse Detective. Basil was away working on a case, and Mrs. Judson, the landlady, was busy in the kitchen, so the doctor was alone in the sitting room. Reclining in the green armchair across from Basil's red one with his feet propped up on the footstool, he glanced at the clock and yawned for the hundredth time. Normally, he would have gone along with the detective; but since his old war wound had been giving him trouble these past few days, Basil insisted he take a well-deserved rest, so Dawson reluctantly obliged. Dawson had attempted to occupy his time by reading the newspaper, but it contained nothing of interest to him. He even tried to take a nap, but his thoughts kept wandering back to the case at hand. Basil had been working himself to death over it, and frankly, the doctor was concerned for his friend's health. However, whenever he brought it up, Basil would give his typical reply that he was perfectly fine.

Soon after the rain began again, Dawson looked up as he heard three taps on the front door. Who could that be? the doctor thought as he got up stiffly to open the door. Thinking that the visitor must be a client, he began, "Hello, Basil isn't here at the moment, but-" He paused as he saw middle-aged mouse and a young girl standing by his side, and his surprise soon turned to joy. "Mr. Flaversham!" he exclaimed, shaking the mouse's hand warmly, "So wonderful to see you! And Olivia also!"

"Hello, Dr. Dawson!" the girl said, hugging him tightly.

"Hello, my dear. Why, the little girl I remember is now a lovely young lady! Here, come in out of this dreary weather."

"Thank you, Doctor," said Flaversham as Dawson took their coats and hung them up to dry. "We've just arrived in London, and Olivia was so eager to see you, I thought we'd visit for a moment. I do hope we're not intruding?"

"No, not at all," Dawson replied happily. "Basil isn't here at the moment, but he should be arriving shortly. How have you been?"

"Very well, thank you. It was nice to return to Scotland, but after a while, Olivia and I grew homesick for London. And so, I've decided to reopen my toyshop."

"That's wonderful news!" Dawson exclaimed. "It's such a delight to have you back."

A moment later, they heard someone open the front door, and the three turned to see Basil of Baker Street standing on the threshold, dripping wet from the rain. Despite the scowl on his face, he was a rather comical site. The detective was soaked from head to tail, and his deerstalker cap drooped down almost over his eyes. "Confound this dratted weather," he mumbled as he shrugged out of his soaked Inverness cape. As he tossed his hat and coat onto a suit of armor rather than the coat rack to dry, the breath was almost knocked out of him as Olivia ran and threw her arms around his waist. "Basil!" she squealed with joy.

Of course, Basil was very surprised to see the little girl. "Miss Flemmingshawl…I mean, Flanger…um…" he stammered.

"Flaversham!" she corrected.

"Whatever," Basil said rolling his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Olivia giggled; she didn't think he would ever be able to pronounce her name correctly. "Daddy and I are back from Scotland and came to visit! I missed you."

Basil then noticed how much she had grown; the last time he had seen her, she was no taller than his waist; now, she nearly came up to his shoulders. Basil wasn't accustomed to such outward displays of affection, but the truth was, he was just as delighted to see her as she was to see him. "I-I'm glad to see you, as well," he said with a smile as he returned the hug.

A few minutes later, they were all sitting in the living room. Basil sat in his favorite red armchair, his long legs stretched out towards the fire. Dawson resumed his seat in the chair opposite him, and Flaversham and Olivia shared the sofa. Mrs. Judson brought in some tea and a plate of some of her delicious cheese crumpets, crying with joy as she was reunited with Olivia.

They were all soon warmed by the fire and enjoying each other's company. It had been nearly three years since Basil had rescued the toymaker and his daughter from the clutches of his arch nemesis, Professor Ratigan. After being away from each other for so long, they were happy to be amongst old friends again.

The conversation soon turned to Basil's work. As a private consulting detective, he remained busy helping others, whether it be someone who came to him over a private matter, or the police asking for his help when they came to a dead end, which occurred more frequently than they would have cared to admit.

"Were you working on a case today?" Olivia asked Basil eagerly.

"Yes," the detective replied. "I was helping the police round up a gang who attempted to rob Harper's Jewelry store."

"But you stopped him," Olivia said proudly.

"Yes," said Basil with a smile, "although it took a little longer than I imagined. The ringleader proved to be a rather cunning adversary. But if Inspector Grayson had taken my advice to begin with, we would have caught him sooner."

"It was Simmons?" Dawson asked.

"Of course it was Simmons! There was never a doubt in my mind from the beginning." Basil puffed away on his pipe, blowing rings of smoke into the air. As a doctor, Dawson didn't really approve of all the smoking, but he stubbornly continued the habit, stating that it helped him to think.

"You must be busy," said Flaversham. "Your fame has spread even to Scotland. Olivia and I both enjoyed reading Dr. Dawson's account of your cases."

"I'd be lost without my chronicler," replied Basil, smiling at Dawson. "But things have actually been rather quiet as of late. There are always petty thefts and such, but organized crime has declined since…Ratigan's death." He hesitated at the mention of his deceased enemy. Although it had been a while since the incident, it was still a sensitive topic, for all of them. Basil had foiled Ratigan's plans to take over the kingdom, and things came to a head on top of Big Ben, where Ratigan lost his footing as the clock tolled loudly and he fell to the streets below; but Ratigan's hatred for Basil drove him mad, transforming him into a raging monster. Basil had sustained several injuries from the rat's claws in the ensuing fight, and had barely escaped with his life.

Dawson cleared his throat and hurriedly attempted to change the subject. "Well, now that things have quieted down, at least you can rest. You shouldn't work yourself so hard," he cautioned.

"I'm not!" Basil snapped. Seeing Dawson's hurt expression, his tone softened. "Sorry, old fellow. I know you're only trying to help, and I appreciate your concern." He seemed to hesitate, as if debating whether to continue. "The truth is, I'm afraid to let my guard down. And I do have reason to be extra cautious. I believe that I've been watched these past few weeks."

"What do you mean?" Dawson asked.

"You know by now how I'm always aware of my surroundings." Dawson nodded, and Basil continued. "Do you recall the recent forgery case in France? During our investigation, I noticed a certain mouse following us on three different occasions. I didn't say anything because he never approached, and didn't appear to be a menace; but I noticed him standing on the corner of Baker Street on Monday, as if watching me."

"You mean he followed you here to London?" Flaversham asked concernedly.

Basil shrugged. "It appears that way. But I'm certain that it's the same mouse. I haven't seen him up close, but a large scar extends across the right side of his face, making it easy to identify him."

"Perhaps there's no need to be too concerned," Dawson said hopefully. "If he were dangerous, I think he would have approached by now."

"There are several explanations," Basil said as he relit his pipe, "but I have no data, and it is a capital mistake to theorize before one has all the facts."

"It biases your judgment," Olivia spoke up. "Right Basil?"

"Exactly-" Basil's pipe nearly fell from his mouth as he stared at the girl. "Wait, what?"

"If you don't have enough evidence, you begin to make up facts to fit your theories, instead of theories to fit the facts. You said it yourself," she said hastily, blushing as everyone stared at her. "During one of your cases, the one about the emerald ring. Remember?"

"Why, yes…Yes, I suppose I did." Basil shook his head incredibly. "And you remembered that?"

"Of course! I learn a lot from reading Dr. Dawson's accounts of your cases. You also say, 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' "

Basil chuckled and actually blushed slightly. "Miss Flamberham, I'm…I'm flattered…that you've taken such an interest in my methods."

Olivia's eyes sparkled with admiration for her role model. "I want to be a great detective just like you someday," she said genuinely.

"Well," Dawson said, "that won't be a difficult task for such a bright young lady as yourself. Just think, we may be in the presence of Scotland Yard's first female Inspector. Eh, Basil?"

"Perhaps," the great detective replied with a wink at Olivia, causing her to giggle.

Author's note: This will be a pretty long fanfic, and I hope this first chapter gets you interested, although i know this scene was pretty calm, but it will get more suspenseful and dangerous with lots of twists and turns! Reviews are welcome! =D