Title: A Most Puzzling Situation

Based Upon: Disney's The Adventures of the Great Mouse Detective

Pairings: Basil/Adult!Olivia

Full Summary: Basil believed he could solve just about anything. However... sometimes it takes more than one clever mind, a little elbow grease, tears, stories, and humble new beginnings, to truly master the art of puzzle solving. However, once one does complete that final picture, it is quite possibly...the greatest image in all of the world to behold.

Disclaimer: Basil of Baker Street, Olivia "Flangerhanger" Flaversham, Dr. Dawson, and other such characters are copyright to Eve Titus and/or Disney. I make no money from them, and it will likely continue that way.

As a detective and man...er...mouse... Basil found the life of a childless bachelor the ideal one. There was no one to please, to leave alone in times of crisis during one of his cases, no one to nag or be nagged by. (Save by Mrs. Judson and Dawson but they were, obviously, exceptions to the rule.) Best of all, no one got in the way, and though before things had been somewhat lonesome, that feeling had decreased over time somewhat with the company of his newly acquired assistant.

And yet despite all these excuses, Basil was still only a living creature. A male one as it was; and all living things, great and small, have certain inward instincts...as one might put it...in the most primal of fashions. Basil had been very good at suppressing them such things for the first twenty years of his life. Having been so engrossed with the capture of his greatest rival simply left him no room for a social life, let alone a love one.

A year or so after Ratigan's eventual demise, Basil became only busier than ever. His name became the subject of many a happy newspaper; eager to get any tidbit on the latest hero in all of Mousedom. This resulted in a huge accumulation of cases, one after the other, ranging from simple missing gems, to black market conspiracies. It seemed as everyone with any sorts of trouble were now going to Baker Street to have it solved.

Yes, life was but a blissfully busy roller coaster for London's greatest mouse detective. And it never seemed to end, only slow very slightly as the years went on.

Crimes began to grow in shortage, perhaps due to Basil's aid to the side of justice, or because of an increase in the police force.

Whatever the reason, it still took ten years after the Flaversham case before Basil could finally find himself with some well deserved free time. Much needed, as he called it. For he was no longer a sprightly twenty-something mouse, but now at the ripened age of thirty. And his reading list, as it was, was growing desperately long.

It was while he was sitting back in his chair, content by the sounds of a crackling fire and the occasional snore from the napping Dawson, that Basil was spending such free time at long last. It was late evening, and Dawson had only just settled down to 'rest his eyes' a bit, which Basil knew would lead to this. No matter, he had long grown used to the doctor's irregular nap times as it was. As he turned the page of his novel, smiling fondly at a snide remark made by the main character, a knock interrupted the rhythmic quiet.

Dawson snorted and shifted tiredly, but otherwise made no other effort to answer the call. Basil gave a wry smile, and, shaking his head slowly, rose from his chair to open the door.

Immediately seeing the young lady behind it, Basil felt as if his entire being had swelled up with some foreign sensation. When she smiled, blue eyes looking to his own, he had to sigh rather loudly to keep from exploding there.

"Olivia Flabberdam?"

The woman's smile turned cynical in an instant.

"Flaversham." She corrected sharply.

"Whatever." Basil retorted, before airly ushering her inside. As she walked in, and he closed the door behind her, he found his eyes unable to pry from her.

The young girl he had come to favor over other children was no more. In her place, a slightly toned and shapely woman had emerged. Her face, however, retained that child-like innocence that truly made her beautiful. And that stupid red bow was still in place, though now behind her head, and kept her a slight ponytail of her hair up.

The green day dress she wore hid nothing. Her eyes were only intensified, and features almost glowed. Behind her, the fire crackling warmly almost appeared a halo about her frame.

To simply put it, Basil found himself breathless.

Olivia smiled back to the hero of her childhood, and gave a slight sigh herself. Save for Dawson's snoring, a pregnant silence enveloped them.

Basil finally broke it when he casually coughed into his hand. "It's been awhile Ms. Flatterhan...what are you now...eig-"

"Flaversham." Olivia interrupted, face smiling yet again as her delicate fingers laced together. "And I turned twenty last month."

"Already that time eh?" Basil breathed, before noticing the glances he was receiving. "Oh! Excuse me...where are my manners? Please Olivia," He commanded. "Sit!"

She giggled lightly, taking her place in another chair somewhat off of Basil's. She turned to him, legs crossing and hands clasped and set within her lap. "So," She began, meeting their gaze again. "Too busy to write in return?"

Basil's face fell. "My apologies," He muttered, glancing off to the stack of books and papers he had left off to the side for later examination. "I had always meant to reply as soon as I was able..."

Her hand waved lightly, her giggle following. When had that laugh turn just so...enchanting? "Don't worry over it so much," She spoke. "I only grew worried that perhaps..." Her voice trailed off, before her eyes followed, nervously glancing off.

Basil chewed at his lower lip. "Perhaps what? Ms. Flakerwacker?"

Olivia's head snapped back in attention. "Flaversham!" She scolded, before sighing again, this time laying back into the seat. Basil found himself having to force his gaze once again from her slim ankles that peered from behind a green veil to her face.

"I wondered if this time... you had really forgotten me." She had muttered the last part, but it could not have reached his ears more clearly.

"My dear." He began immediately, shaking his head in slight annoyance. "You should not doubt either of us again."

How could the detective forget such a vow, made at such a young age? Still vividly to this day, his mind could replay the last fond glance the mousling gave him.

"I'll never forget you, Basil."

Not a threat like all the others that said this to him before. With no malice behind the words, he found the promise actually rather endearing. And as he had said back then, he had not forgotten of the girl either. Their visits with one another had grown ever more infrequent as time went on: Olivia busy with school, and Basil engrossed in his work. Eventually, visits became exchanged letters, which Basil always looked forward to receiving.

Through paper, he had seen Olivia's life begin, change, and grow. It was a fascinating development actually. And though the letters also grew more scarce with time, Basil sometimes found himself reading her old ones over again before bed.

Then Olivia had left to attend some sort of private school for a year or so. Something nearly unheard of for a woman of their time, but with Basil's influence it wasn't too hard. However, this also took away their time together, letters or otherwise.

Olivia changed the subject then, looking quite embarrassed, which he found adorable. Her nose gave a slight curl, which only gave her features a more darling appearance. She smiled fondly at Dawson, who had yet to awaken.

"Oh, where is Mrs. Judson anyways?" Blue eyes scanned the room, which was only filled with more eccentric treasures than the last time she had beheld it. "I was so hoping to see her as well..."

"She's with her son, whom is expecting his first child soon." Basil picked up his pipe as he answered, and began to light the tobacco within. With gentle puffs, the aroma of sultry-sweet grindings perfumated about his nostrils.

"How wonderful!" Olivia exclaimed. "My father speaks often of grandchildren...I do believe he's hinting a bit too strongly." Basil joined her laughter with his own, strained, chuckle.

The laughter turned into sniffles soon, and Basil gave the girl a most bewildered look. So suddenly she had begun crying, and he could feel his own chest tighten painfully at the sight.

"I'm...I'm so sorry." She whimpered, lightly dabbing at her eyes and looking to him. "But I actually came to tell you something..."

Basil felt his held breath gulp down, bloating within his belly like a makeshift hot air balloon. His teeth chewed at the end of his pipe. "And that something..." He began, biting down harder into the plastic. "...would be?"

She sighed sadly, straightening herself. "Father and I are moving back to Scotland..." She watched as his face instantly dropped. "Back to his home village, where the nearest mailbox is a day's ride away..."

"So. There will be...no way of contact?" Basil muttered, rather bitterly. She shook her head solemnly, dabbing again at her eyelids. "I'm so sorry..." she whispered.

"Whatever do you have to be sorry for Olivia?" Basil attempted to assure. "One day, I will visit you. We can still exchange some letters every now and again. It's not as if you're going to Antarctica or something."

The girl smiled sadly. "Please..." She practically begged, that sweet voice of hers becoming strained yet again. "Don't be so good to me, Basil. You're going to make this harder on me yet."

She looked to see Dawson still slumbering on, before she rose from her seat and came closer to his own.

Basil blinked. "Ms. Flaterwater?" He started, before feeling those light lips press to his own. His eyes widened instantly, and all that pressure, of which had been intensifying by the minute, instantly surfaced. The kiss turned almost feverish. Olivia had to almost yank herself away, before sobbing aloud.

"I-I love you! Basil of Baker Street." Tears slid capriciously down those tawny cheeks. "I've loved you since I was a young girl...and, I'm so...so sorry! I just couldn't live with myself if I had left without telling you my true feelings."

For the second time that day, an event almost completely impossible before, Basil found his breath completely stolen away. And they remained in that silence yet again, eyes never once leaving each other.

Finally, he stood this time, and embraced the crying girl to himself. Olivia's eyes were the ones to widen as she pressed her face into a slight shoulder beside the crook of his neck.

"The first room on the right..." Basil spoke. She stood upright.

"What?" He glanced down to meet her confusion with his own. So much could come of this...but now was no time to over think it.

"Upstairs." He explained. "The first room on the right is my own. I will join you soon."

Olivia stared as they parted, and he moved to turn out the fire, but not before laying blankets atop the still resting Doctor in their presence.

"We can discuss things more privately there." Basil continued, his back to the younger mouse as he made his way to the fireplace.

The hurried footsteps, accompanied by the creaking of the stairs told Basil all he needed to know of her reply to such a request. Solemnly, he stared into the dieing fire before him.

Rising, falling, flickering with an odd liveliness akin to the sensation that had long since consumed him.

Perhaps it was only poetic to compare her to fire. For she both warmed and delighted, brought life to an otherwise dark, near-solitary existence..

And yet she could also consume and transform him, into something he had utterly rejected thus far into life.

Basil heaved an almost defeated breath, before stealing the fire's final one, and made his way up the stairs to join Olivia.

It had been eight years now.

Eight, tiresome, and flighty years.

Basil found himself no longer reading Olivia's letters before bed and instead, he hid them away, along with all other memories of her.

Before, he never considered himself sentimental, but now he could not bring himself to neither read nor throw them out. It was much harder to refuse his pack-rat tendencies it seemed.

And he was now a mere two years shy of forty, a respectable age, that.

Time had aged Basil quite well. Save for the sparse hair of gray, Basil had not changed. Still retaining his ever-youthful moodiness seemed something of a miracle. But nonetheless, had been accomplished.

Perhaps it was a larger miracle that Dawson had stayed all these years still. Despite his partner's off-handish moods, the good Doctor stuck around, and kept himself busy with aiding Basil in any way he could.

At that precise moment, these eight years after, one sunny day in London, Dawson was doing his part by escorting their latest satisfied client to the train station. The young lady gazed lovingly at her bracelet that had been successfully recovered from a small band of thieves. Though some of the perpetrators had gotten away, all of the loot was returned to its' rightful owners. This made for some very happy folks, and reporters. Basil simply chose to avoid the limelight, and stayed behind for this trip.

Which was all well and good, because, as Dawson was experiencing first hand now, the girl would not stop chattering on how simply fascinating Mr. Basil was. Even as they hurriedly had to weave about large, stomping human feet to the mouse version of the station, this airy and simply heartfelt glow surrounded her.

Dawson already could not wait to let her go. Particularly after she was nearly stepped on by the heel of a conductor's boot, before being pulled quickly out of the way by an already exhausted doctor.

"Simply enchanting." She breathed, again, eyelashes all aflutter.

That kept mustache of Dawson's flinched again in annoyance. He gave the girl a curt nod of the head. "Well Madam," He spoke, almost too relieved, once they came to the platform and pulled a kerchief from his pocket, dabbing at his sweating forehead. "This is whe-"

"Oh please!" The woman exclaimed, taking Dawson's paw in her own. "Do tell me if Mr. Basil is seeing anyone at the moment!"

The doctor spluttered. Never before had any of their customers come so forward!

"My apologies Madam," Dawson muttered lowly. "But I'm afraid my colleague has doomed himself to an eternal bachelorhood."

A light, broken sigh followed after, as the young lady touched her white cheeks in exasperation. Around them, the crowds of mice unloading from a cargo train that had just railed in bumped the two about. The very slight noise had grown into a thin and restless hum of voices now, which separated them far more than the bodies themselves. The girl's called out thanks nearly didn't reach his ears, and that, was the last he had seen of her.

"Quite a...young lady." Dawson mused, before moving through the crowds back to the exit.

It was there Dawson noticed something most peculiar. Three things, to be precise.

Three young lads stood, all huddled around a large map of London before them. Now, this would not have alerted Dawson so, but the baggage indicated the boys had just gotten off that train that had just now left the station. They were unsupervised, and from the kilt the darker one was wearing, not from here at all.

Indeed, they looked rather distressed as they made attempts to ask for directions from a passerby.

"Excuse me." The kilt-wearing one addressed the older mouse. "Could you tell me how to get to-"

"Out of my way!" The rushing male panted, before shoving his armloads of baggage forward. The smallest and lightest of them grabbed at his comrade's hand with a look of worry.

Now it should be most obvious that Dawson was most certainly not the type to leave obviously children all alone like this. He waited a moment, before finally finding an opening and weaving his way through the crowds and to the boys.

"Are you lads in need of some assistance?" He asked, already greeted with a set of three nearly identical smiles.

"As a matter of fact," the largest boy spoke, pulling at the handkerchief about his neck in habit. "We are. Could you tell us where we could find Basil of Baker Street?"

Dawson gave a short, surprised look. "Well," He began. "I most certainly can take you there myself but...might I ask...just where are your mother and father?"

The same boy did not hesitate as he answered curtly.

"Mother's coming with Grandfather in a few days. We were sent ahead on our own to stay at our Father's home until then."
"So you want Basil to find your father?"

"No, no." The boy shook his head. "You see...Mr. Basil IS our father."

A/N: To all the people who know me in real life and talk to me on a regular basis...and also read my fanfiction...

I regret NOTHING.

To everyone else.

I hope you enjoyed. D:

PSPSPSPS: Don't ever talk to strangers who approach you like that, okay kids? 8C *shot*