Sherlock smiled as his best friend left the flat. "You can come out now, Basil." A brown mouse with a tuff of fur on his head scampered out.

There were something off about this mouse. He wore a small blue t-shirt, a small coat, and a small pair of blue jeans. When he was in the center of the room, his body began to stretch out. "Ow, God, why does shifting have to hurt so bad?" he asked, rubbing his back. At 22, he was two years younger than his brother. Like Sherlock, he had the same aristocrat features, but they were softer, friendlier.

Sherlock chuckled, getting up from the couch to clap his hands onto his brother's shoulders. Then, he pulled him into a hug. Anyone who knew Sherlock would see such open warmth as rare. "You are the only sifter I know, Bas, so I don't think I'm the one to ask. Now what is bothering you, Lil bro?"

"It's David. We got into a little fight, three weeks ago. He stormed out, and I have not seen him. He is never angry for this long, and-"

Sherlock held up his hand, stopping his brother's stream of words. Sherninfford Basil Holmes was the youngest of the three brothers, and was gifted with the special power to shift into any form of his choosing. "Now, brother, what did you two bicker about? It's not like David to get mad at you." David Q. Dawson was his little brother's best friend. Basil had often told Sherlock that David was like a twin to him. Their fight had to be something serious like, oh no. "He found out, didn't he?"

"We just finished one of our cases. And on the way home David, a cat started chasing him. I led the cat away, but David followed. When the cat looked like it was going to attack me, he thew a rock and hit it. I had to shift. I couldn't let that thing kill him. He did not speak to me on the way home. When we got there, he yelled at me for not telling him. I tried to explain, but he, I struck him, and that's when he stormed off."

"Well, he, good God, John!" Basil turned to see a man wearing a jumper, blue jeans and tennis shoes with bright blue eyes and blond hair standing in the doorway his hands cupped protectively around something.

"Talk later. Get a box, towels, any thing." he did not even notice the man standing in the center of the room as Basil shook his head, and went to find some towels.

John placed his bundle into the box Sherlock had bought. Basil had to silence his gasp of terror. The mouse in the box was David, and he was badly hurt.