Buckingham Palace

I hardly intended to oversleep, but I had been working later than usual the previous evening, and as a result, I was utterly exhausted. As I slumbered, I experienced a most peculiar dream in which Ratigan and I were children again.

"Stop me!" he pleaded in my dream. "I know a cruel death awaits me in the future if I succeed in becoming a criminal mastermind! You must stop me!"

Upon awakening, my heart sank within me. I never have been able to comprehend such a feeling. Although I have never wished harm to anyone, Ratigan's demise had brought great jubilation throughout the empire. I too should have rejoiced at the loss of my nemesis, but I simply could not bring myself to do so. To this day, there are still times when I remember the professor as the childhood friend I once knew rather than the sewer rat responsible for the scars on my back.

"Why did you do it?" I asked rhetorically. "If you had only avoided the temptation to succumb to malevolence, we could have…"

I shook my head. There is absolutely no point in dwelling on what might have been.

"Good morning, Mr. Basil," Mrs. Judson greeted as I took my seat at the table. "You nearly missed breakfast."

I made no reply as I sipped my tea. My eyes wandered to the calendar on the wall, coming to rest on the current date: June 22, 1900. It had been exactly three years since Ratigan and I had confronted each other for the final time.

There was a knock at the door. I remained at the table as Mrs. Judson answered. She returned shortly.

"Mr. Basil, it's one of the royal guards. He's here with his wife," she stated. "I told them to wait in the living room."

"Thank you, Mrs. Judson." I finished my breakfast and went to receive my guests.

"A good morning to you," I greeted.

"Aunt Fish!"

I noticed a child on the woman's knees.

"Aunt Fish!" the toddler repeated.

The mother blushed. "Sorry about that, Detective."

"Don't trouble yourself about it," I replied. "I do believe Mrs. Hudson has errands to do this morning, and Holmes and Watson are busy with a case. Shall I summon the cat?"

"If you would, please," the lady replied.

We managed to sneak into Toby's residence. I scanned the vast rooms to make sure no humans were in sight. Seeing no one, I rang the bell I have kept on my mantel ever since the night of Queen Moustoria's Diamond Jubilee. Hearing the familiar sound, Mrs. Hudson's cat came running.

The child giggled and hurried to embrace Felicia. "Aunt Fish! Me wuv Aunt Fish!"

The cat purred. Ever since the young mouse was only a few days old, Felicia had doted on the child.

"I still can't believe it," the guard muttered. "When I worked for Ratigan, I never imagined Felicia would become a friend of the family and be harmless enough to…" He chuckled. "Quite a story about how she reformed her ways and came to live here!"

"Not a story of interest to anyone else in the world," I remarked, lighting my pipe.

"That's what we wanted to discuss with you," he began. "Her Majesty, Queen Moustoria, wishes your name to be remembered in even the twenty-first century."

"No one in the twenty-first century will care that I ever existed," I responded nonchalantly.

"She has summoned you to Buckingham Palace, where she has assembled historians and biographers and…"

"What do they wish to know?" I queried.

"They want to know about you," he answered. "You are to tell them your life story. Children in the future will learn about the detective who saved our queen's life and prevented the empire from becoming a dictatorship ruled by a heartless tyrant."

"Utterly absurd! I was merely doing my job!" I protested.

"And I am merely doing mine," he replied. "Right now, my job is to remain at Baker Street until you agree to return with me to the palace."

I sighed. "Very well."

"You must all come: you, your assistant, your housekeeper, your dog, and your cat."

"Felicia isn't my cat!" I argued.

"She seems to think she is," the guard commented. "She's thought so for the past three years."

Having received affection from "Aunt Fish," the child was now searching for "Uncle Toe." I had no trouble believing that someone so young would have a bit of difficulty pronouncing "Felicia," but I failed to comprehend how anybody could mispronounce "Toby."

"Uncle Ba'il!" The toddler embraced me.

I am not overly fond of children, and I wanted nothing more than to free myself from the arms that were wrapped around my knees. Bending down to loosen the arms proved to be a mistake. Two chubby hands found their way around my neck.

Felicia and Toby were smirking. It was painfully obvious that they were delighting in my predicament.

Upon our arrival at Buckingham Palace, we were greeted by a bat.

"Her Majesty has been anticipating your visit," he stated, gallantly tipping his hat.

"Do you work here?" I inquired.

"Not at all, sir," he replied. "I am highly honored to have been invited here as a guest this morning." After a brief pause, he added drolly, "I might work here if you hadn't arrived at precisely the right moment three years ago!"

I frowned. "Fidget?"

The bat smiled. "It's been a while since anyone's called me that. I go by my given name now."

"I should have recognized you by your peg leg!"

"I get that reaction a lot."

"You're not…" I was unsure how to phrase my comment.

"I'm no longer a gibbering imbecile," he finished. "I am no longer under Ratigan's control, nor am I considered to be a criminal. Furthermore, I regained the ability to fly in December of 1897, thanks to an exceptionally great surgeon. As a result, I have no need to be the nervous creature I once was."

"What brings you here?" Mrs. Judson inquired.

"Her Majesty has requested everyone involved in the Flaversham Failure to attend. She is making every attempt to ensure the information presented this day is completely accurate, for history has been made that shall remembered for centuries."

Dawson laughed. "Is it really known as 'the Flaversham Failure'?"

"Among other names," Fidget answered. "Ratigan's former employees will be joining us shortly, accompanied by the police, of course. They have been offered less time in prison in exchange for sharing all they know about the events leading up to the professor's attempted treason."

He turned to the guard's wife. "I only wish your brother could have graced us with his presence. He would have excelled if he had been given the chance to make a better life for himself."

"Bartholomew is with us in spirit," she stated. "All of them are."

Fidget changed the subject. "I understand Mr. Flaversham and his daughter will be arriving later this morning. I look forward to seeing them again, for I have not yet had an opportunity to beg their forgiveness."

"I hate to ask about matters that are none of my business," Mrs. Judson began, "but why are you speaking so eloquently? Reforming your life wouldn't alter your manner of speech that drastically!"

He grinned. "Just to see if Basil will notice. Think he has?"

I refused to dignify his comment with a response.

"I believe we have this backwards," Dawson whispered to me. "Our meeting today would be considered a perfect example of a happy ending, but the queen wishes to hear how everything began."