"I don't see anything wrong with it. You distract him, I sneak in, you wait for Dawson's signal, then we'll have the next letter, and with that, I'm certain will determine something," said Basil, still not listening to Amelia's points.

"You were certain about the last thing you put me through....." she grumbled.

"Think about this. Mr. Gibbs said that the boy said that he could never say who the letter was signed by. The letter you got was already half way burned at the bottom, so if it was signed, we wouldn't know. Getting the letter, right at the source, is the only solution."

"But why must I be a distraction."

"And risk me being caught breaking and entering?"

"It's hardly breaking."

"Entering all the same."

"Well, I won't do it."

"Amelia...." Basil said, his voice warning. They gave each other icey glares.

"Fine," she said, ashamedly.

"I'm not sure I can take the watch back," I responded glumly.

"That doesn't sound like you Amelia," said Rowe. "What's the matter?"

"Well, it's just something that Garrison said to me, is all."

"Is that big bully picking on you again? One good punch and--" said Huggins, ramming his left paw against his right.

"That's not going to do any good this time Huggins. I really made a mess of things," I interrupted. Then, a thought struck me. "Huggins, why were you on that street today. When I left you, you were a few blacks down."

"You didn't honestly think I wouldn't have my eye on you when you left with that den of lions, did you?"

I smirked. "I guess not."

"What will you do Amelia?" asked Livanov, his accent as smeared with Russian as ever.

"I guess I've got some thinking to do, don't I?"

"Except no one's pushing me this time. And I'm doing it of my own free will. Sort of, anyway."

She took a deep breath, one long step, and--

BAM!

She had collided with a young man.

"Oh! I'm so sorry miss. I really ought to watch where I'm going."

In all honesty, it was more his fault then her's. The gentlemen, a one Maurice Bernhardt by name, had been looking over his shoulder at a strange brown mouse, whom he could have sworn he knew, and was sneaking into the building he lived in.

"Good job Basil," thought Amelia, as the first part of her mission, the distraction, was complete. Her respect for him was mounting, but not enough to address him as Mr. Basil, or as Uncle. But for all the small success, neither of them were out of the woods yet.

"It's quite alright. I am clumsy by nature," she responded. "My name's Amelia," she said, extending her hand, as she had been taught. Age wise, Amelia could have been anywhere from fourteen to sixteen. She wasn't certain, because it had been years since her birthday had been celebrated, and with the need to know things more important when one lives on the street, her date of birth had been shoved into the back of her head, and lost forever.

"I'm Maurice," he said, his eyes sparkling as he kissed her hand. The two then continued to talk frivolously, with Amelia batting her eyes and constantly trying to find new topics whenever his attention seemed waning.

"Come on Basil, think of something," Amelia thought desperately. He'd been out of the house for five minutes, and she was stuck there, talking to Maurice. If she left, it would draw attention to herself, he would be curious, possibly even mad. And to top it all off, it would simply be rude.

She was a bit shocked when someone bumped into her. "Thank God," she thought. "Dawson!"

"Father!" she said, taking his arm. "I was getting worried! You saw mother then? Everything alright?"

Dawson did his best to play the role thrust on him, and in a small while, the two were done with their conversation.

"Really, Amelia. Must you glare at me like that?" Basil asked back at Baker Street.

"Yes," she responded coldly and bitterly.

"Begging your pardon sir, but there's a young girl at the door. She says you dropped your watch earlier, and she's here to return it."

Myerricroft grinned. Ah, yes. The young white and black mouse. He wondered when she'd be by. Myerricroft wanted to reach into his pocket to retrieve his watch to see what time she arrived, and then realized that he couldn't. He laughed at himself.

"Sir? Mr. Basil sir?"

"Hm? What?"

"Should I send her in sir?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, please do. Thank you Elise."

"Um, thank you," I timidly responded. I was shown in, and took a seat in a chair.

"Mr. Basil will be with you in a moment."

"Oh, um, that's not necessary. You could just take the watch and give it back to him. I don't mind," I said, stuttering through some words, nervously. I had wanted to return the watch. Not meet him and risk putting me in his disfavor. That's the last thing in the world I wanted.

"Oh, but he insisted he meet you," said the maid. Well, I was stuck for sure now. Nothing to do but weather the storm.

A few minutes later he walked in, taking a seat in the chair opposite me. I pulled the watch out, my paw outstretched for him to take it. He smiled.

"Thank you," he said, grinning. "I was wondering when you would bring it by."

"Uh, sir?" I questioned.

"When your brothers stole it."

"They're not my brothers," I muttered.

"But you do admit to your part of the theft." It was not a question.

My face was burning bright red. I couldn't remember a time more embarrassing to myself, though I'm sure there were times that were much worse.

"I--"

He laughed.

"Do not worry. I hold no grudge and accuse you of nothing. You brought it back. And that's enough. What is your name?" he asked, his bright eye's glittering.

"Amelia," I responded. "Amelia Fitzgerald."

"I am Myerricroft Basil. A pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you Mr. Basil," I murmured.

"You're welcome," he responded.

I sat silently as there was an awkward silence.

"You are waiting for me to ask how I knew it was stolen, and how I knew you'd bring it by. More importantly, you'd know where I live."

"That's very perceptive of you sir," I responded, my mouth slightly ajar in surprise. "But," I said. "The first one is easy enough for even myself to answer. Around lowly, and sometimes, the not so kind class, I share with them, you would of corse check for your valuables."

"That," he said, "And I watched them use that trick with you last Sunday, and took a different route, rather than take the risk."

I laughed.

"The second two are more of a challenge though?" he asked, leaning in closer to me, his eyes sparkling, as though he were about to share some sort of secret with me.

"Yes, quite."

"You're friend who you ran to after I left. He followed me home. I watched you from the corner of my eye, and you were talking with him. I took a guess that you wanted to return the watch."

I smiled. I liked being around him. I felt so much higher than my position dictated around him. I didn't want to leave, but I knew it would be impossible to stay for much longer.

"Yes sir. I did wish to return the watch. And my task being done, I must go," I said, not bothering to mask the disappointment in my voice. It might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw his ears droop slightly. Was he as unhappy as I about my departure?

"Impossible," I told myself. He is a refined gentlemen, and can find much better company than the likes of me.

"Of course," he said. Well, if his ears had drooped, he'd picked them right back up again. I wasn't sure if I should be happy about that or not. "Elise, can you show Miss Fitzgerald out?"

The maid obliged and I was out the door, and on my own again.

She gave a soft sigh.

"At least the book's gotten good again. I have the grace of that," she thought to herself while Basil continued ranting.

"....Of course the ventilation pipe's a possibility, but it's far to small for any of...us...to..." Basil ranted, his voice slowing down as if he'd just thought of something. "That's it!" he yelled exuberantly, as he grabbed Amelia by the wrist and began to tug her out the door.

"NO, NO, AND NO! I ABSOLUTELY REFUSE TO BE APART OF THIS ANYMORE!" Amelia shouted, digging her heels in to the floor.

I sighed, lonely. Nelson had gone out on his favorite horse, a black stallion named Barak, and had taken his dog's out on a duck hunt. Leaving me along, with the exception of his three mares, Aideen, Gamma, and Maddy, and his other stallion, Rio, and of corse, the duckling on the creek.

"Ah!" I cried out as I felt someone grab my arm and twist it behind me, and felt another paw wrap around my throat.

"So, you thought I was kidding?"

"Garrison?" I choked out as his paw began to smash my wind pipe.

"Well, as you can see, I wasn't," he hissed in my ear.

"Garrison!" I tried to cry, hardly able to breath, let alone talk. "You don't want to do this!" I wrapped my paws around the one that was slowly trying to kill me, managing to relieve some of the pressure.

"On the contrary. I'm tired of always having to drag you around. I'm tired of your idiotic morals always messing things up for us. I'm tired of watching you think you can do bigger and better things, because when your father was alive, you were bigger and better things. Now, Amelia, I have the great equalizer."

"Garrison, no!"

I felt and saw him smack me over the head with a stone, felt a rushing sensation as though I we're flying for a moment, and a splash of water as I landed in the icy stream before going unconscious.