The Waltz

Basil stood in the corner of the overheated, stuffy ballroom and fought to keep from scowling. He wanted this case to be over in a way he had never wanted one to be over before. If he had any sense, he would have found some other way to recover the Countess’ emerald ring without having to sacrifice his dignity. The countess’ ring had been handed down by her fiancée’s family for generations, being the engagement ring for countless women. Not having the ring meant the engagement would be revoked by the fiancée’s family. Now it had been stolen, and she had come to Baker Street for help. All of the investigations Basil and Dawson had managed so far lead them to believe that the thief would be at the Countess’ masquerade ball that evening. Since delicacy was the most important part of the investigation, both were at the ball in disguise. Even the Countess was not entirely sure who they were, a fact which Basil was grateful for. He was grateful for it since, for some unknown reason, he had allowed himself to be talked into attending the ball as a female.
So far, the masquerade had been singularly unsuccessful. Even though Basil was questioning his ability to pass as female, he had passed muster from everyone else in the room. Even Dawson had not recognized him. Now he stewed in the corner and thought. An approaching gentleman caught his attention, and he mentally winced without allowing the expression to show. The other bowed and held out a hand, wordlessly asking Basil to dance. About to refuse, a closer look made Basil suspicious and instead he accepted.
The pair swirled into the waltz that had just begun, each eying the other. Tall as he was, sharp piercing eyes behind the mask…Ratigan! He stiffened momentarily in shock, but attempted to cover it up. Ratigan chuckled, and Basil knew his enemy had seen through his disguise.
“That’s a very lovely dress,” Ratigan commented, quietly enough that the music covered his words. “Wherever did you manage to find it?” he finished teasingly. Basil blushed slightly, embarrassed at being seen in female garb by his enemy.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed back, his own reason momentarily forgotten in his embarrassment.
“I believe you and I are here for the same thing,” responded the other, continuing to gracefully swing them both around the room. “A certain…item.”
Despite wanting to pull away, Basil forced himself to stay in character and continue to whirl about the room. “You stole the ring? I hadn’t suspected you. Too clumsy of a job.”
Ratigan smirked ever so slightly. “It was rather clumsy, wasn’t it. Fear not, I haven’t lost my touch. I purchased it, that’s all.”
Basil’s reply was cut off by being forced to swallow a squeak of outrage and shock as, during a turn while his back was to the wall, Ratigan’s hand slipped down from its place on his back to grope his backside. Ratigan’s smirk grew.
As the waltz ended, he leaned down to whisper into Basil’s ear, “I do believe I have gotten my money’s worth.” As he spoke, Basil felt something small and hard slip down the front of the despised dress. Then, with a flourish and a bow, he was gone into the mass of mice surrounding them. Basil slipped into a nearby alcove to dig inside the bodice of his dress, to find the emerald ring. Confused, he stared after his enemy, wondering if he would ever understand the other mouse.