A/N: Oh, wow! I was not expecting such a positive response, thank you so much everyone! Without further ado, I bring you chapter three, sorry it took a bit!

PSA: As I'm sure my reader have noticed, most of my stories have a T rating. This is mostly due to my own paranoia, but also because I try to dig deeper than surface level. So, if I write romance, it will get a little suggestive, violence can get descriptive, I'm not afraid to write about blood, fight scenes, or death. And occasionally, I slip in some strong language, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not.

I also have a penchant for giving my OCs rough backgrounds, so sensitive topics can be discussed. These include abuse, PTSD, depression, self-hate, etc. I will ALWAYS post a warning at the beginning of the chapter/story if this is the case.

The queston has popped up a couple times, so I thought I'd let everyone know. Please enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Great Mouse Detective. My OCs are mine.

The Toymaker's Apprentice

Chapter Three

True to his word, Dr. Dawson did remember where Baker Street was, and Emily felt her heart rise as they arrived at the article's listed address. Olivia too was in high spirits, beaming up at both adults as Dr. Dawson stowed away his umbrella, and Emily wrapped lightly against the door. There was an anxious moment of waiting wherein Emily did her best not to fidget, her aunt had always said she was awful about it, much like her own mother. It could hardly be helped though, not with all the toiling emotions rioting in her gut as she waited for the door to open.

Finally, after a seemingly long minute, the door crept open and a middle aged lady mouse poked her head out. She didn't seem nearly as put off as Emily herself might've been to find a porch full of people.

"Good evening, madam." Dr. Dawson greeted when Emily's voice got caught in her throat. "Is this the residence of Basil of Baker Street?"

"I'm afraid it is," the lady said with a weary sigh. "He's not here at the moment, but you're welcome to come in and wait." She shifted her armload so that she could nudge the door open wider for them.

"We don't want to be a bother," Emily said. "It's just that-" she cut herself off when she realized Olivia was no longer standing among them. "Olivia?" Panic spiked through her, sharp and cold. Only to have it immediately soothed when Dr. Dawson gestured into the house, where Olivia was perched in a red chair with one of the detective's magnifying glasses.

Emily released the breath she was holding and stepped into the home with Dr. Dawson following behind.

"Oh, you poor dear!" the lady fretted as Emily stepped into the light. "You must be chilled to the bone!" The shawl was removed from her shoulders by quick, but careful fingers. "Go rest yourself by the fire," she was ordered. "I'll fetch a pot of tea and some fresh crumpets."

"Um. Thank you?" Emily said, realizing her lack of manners, but the housekeeper was already out of the room. Shrugging, Emily did as was asked of her and meandered over to the fireplace, sighing discreetly in content as the warmth washed over her.

"Emily?" Olivia called, something in her tone causing the older girl to turn with worried eyes. "Could you put this on me?" She fished down into the pocket of her own coat, hung close to the fire to dry, and pulled out the locket Emily had given her. "I just want to keep her close right now."

Emily felt tears sting her eyes, but was quick to blink them away. "Of course, dear. Come here." She knelt down as Olivia approached and took the piece of jewelry with careful fingers, gently turning the child around so she could fasten the clasp at the back of her neck. "There you go."

Olivia turned back to face the older girl, running gentle fingertip's over the heart's smooth surface. "We're going to get my daddy back, aren't we?"

"We are," Emily said firmly. She refused to believe any different, she wouldn't. They would get Hiram back and they would fix what needed fixing, and then they'd move on. "I promise."

"Good," the child said as she rested her head on the other's shoulder. "I really miss him."

"I know you do," Emily said as she wrapped the other girl in her arms. "I miss him too."

The tender moment was abruptly cut off by the front door banging open and a portly mouse busting in with a revolver raised high. "-I shall have him!"

Adrenaline seared through her veins and she squeezed Olivia closer still. The mooseling didn't mind the crushing, pushing as tight in to her new guardian as she could.

"Out of my way! Out of my way!" the stranger cried as he rushed past an equally frightened Dawson.

"I say!" Dawson began, a protective instinct flaring when he caught sight of the cowering girls in the corner. "Who are you?"

"What?" the stranger turned, obviously not expecting the question. "Oh."

The stranger then pulled at his ears until his head popped off, revealing it to be a mask. A brown mouse of his twenties beamed back at the doctor.

"Basil of Baker Street, my good fellow."

Emily and the doctor watched on in shock as he continued to remove his disguise, seemingly frozen to their spots. Olivia, on the other hand, was quite excited. She squirmed and wriggled until she was able to work her way out of Emily's hold trotting eagerly over to the detective.

"Mr. Basil," she started excitedly. "I need your help and-"

"All in good time," the brown moue dismissed her as he shrugged on his housecoat.

"But-but, you don't understand," she stammered. "I'm in terrible trouble."

"If you'll excuse me," he brushed by her without care.

Emily's blood boiled and she rose to her feet, ready to give the detective a piece of her mind. Only to have Dawson beat her to it.

"Now see here!" He started only to have to chase after the detective as he whipped by. "This young lady is in need of your assistance."

Emily rested her hands on Olivia's shoulders, who was looking a bit distraught at being ignored. Basil, though didn't seem to have heard, or at least, was acting as if he hadn't.

"Hold this please, doctor." He handed the revolver off to the portly mouse, who panicked when he realized the barrel was aimed at his face. Basil, however, repossessed the weapon mid-fumble.

"How'd you know he was a doctor?" Emily found herself asking without realizing.

"A surgeon to be exact," the detective explained as he loaded his weapon. "Just returned from military duty in Afghanistan, am I right?" Though, the way he was smirking, she was pretty sure he knew he was.

"Well yes," Dr. Dawson confirmed. "Major David Q. Dawson, but how could you possibly…?"

"Quite simple really," Basil went on. "You've sewn your torn cuff together with a lambert stitch, which of course, only a surgeon uses." He rushed by the group to collect the pillows from the wingbacked chairs. "And the thread is a unique form, easily distinguished by its unusual pungency found only in the Afghan provinces."

"Amazing!" The doctor exclaimed, though it was muffled as Basil through the pillows for him to catch.

Actually, its elementary, my dear Dawson." He readied the gun and aimed it at the pillows, and inadvertently Dr. Dawson.

Catching on quickly, the doctor chucked the pillows onto the chair, and dove for cover, while Emily did likewise, dragging Olivia with her. Basil paid no heed, simply readjusting his aim, before firing off his weapon.

The room exploded with fluffy white feathers.