I do not own The Great Mouse Detective! Anything you recognize is from the film; I only own my OC!
Basil of Baker Street
It was the eve of the queen's Diamond Jubilee. Dr. Dawson hopped off the handsome and pulled out a section of the paper where he had circled options for rooms to take. As he was examining the list, a large drop of water landed in the middle of the article. Glancing up at the sky, Dawson opened his umbrella and set off at a leisurely pace down the street. Just as he was passing an alley, he paused at the sound of someone crying. Peering into the dark alley, he spotted an abandoned boot from which the sound seemed to be emanating.
"Oh my!" he cried when he saw the source of the sound.
A little girl was perched on the edge of a box inside the boot crying quite profusely.
"Are you alright my dear?" Dawson asked. "Here now, dry your eyes," he said gently, offering his handkerchief.
The little girl blew her nose and wiped her eyes.
"Now that's better," Dawson said. "Now, what's troubling you my dear?"
"I-I'm lost," the little girl replied. "I'm trying to find Basil of Baker Street."
She held out an article, and Dawson took it. "'Famous Detective Solves Baffling Disappearance'," he read aloud. "But where are your mother and father?"
"That's why I must find Basil!" the little girl wailed.
Dawson began to panic as she began to cry again. "Now, now, now, I don't know any Basil…" he admitted. She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "But I do remember where Baker Street is," he added.
"Excuse me," a voice whispered.
Dawson and the little girl turned to look at the entrance to the boot. A young lady mouse stood there in a soaked dress clutching a bag to her chest. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't help but overhear. You know where Baker Street it?" she asked Dawson.
"Yes I do, Miss…" Dawson trailed off.
"Vivian," the young mouse supplied. "My name is Vivian."
"Well, Miss Vivian, I do know where Baker Street is," Dawson smiled.
"Could you please show me?" Vivian asked. "I need to find Basil of Baker Street as well."
"Well then, both of you come with me," Dawson said, standing up and opening his umbrella. "We'll find this Basil chap together.
The three fell into step beneath the umbrella and began the trek to Baker Street. "What's your name, little one?" Vivian asked the girl kindly.
"Olivia Flaversham," the girl replied.
"Don't worry, Olivia," Vivian consoled gently. "Basil is the best detective in London. Whatever your problem is, he'll help."
Olivia smiled, and the three fell into a comfortable silence until they found Baker Street. They walked along the neatly manicured street glancing up at the various numbers that labeled the doors. Finally, they reached 221, and Dawson knocked on the door.
A frazzled looking housekeeper opened the door while balancing a large stack of books and various other articles. "Good evening, Madame," Dawson said politely. "Is this the residence of Basil of Baker Street?"
"I'm afraid it is," the housekeeper sighed. "He's not here at the moment, but you're welcome to come in and wait," she added with a smile.
"I don't want to impose," Dawson added quickly. "I-it's just the girl..." he trailed off as Olivia had disappeared from his side.
The housekeeper, Dawson, and Vivian all glanced into the house to see Olivia perched on the couch examining a magnifying glass. "Oh my!" the housekeeper cried handing her stack of items to Dawson. "You poor dear!" she exclaimed as she pulled Olivia's hat and scarf off her. "You must be chilled to the bone! But I know just the thing; let me fetch you a pot of tea and some of my fresh cheese crumpets."
As the housekeeper disappeared into the kitchen, Vivian and Dawson stepped over the threshold into the house. Dawson gingerly hung up his hat and coat while Vivian shed her cloak staring around the room in wonder. Everywhere she looked there were strange objects and contraptions.
In one corner, she observed billows causing the burning of different types of cigarettes as well as a cigar and a pipe. Next to that was a machine that turned different types of shoes so their prints were left on sheets of paper that were stacked beneath. Continuing around the room, she observed a chemical table with multiple different liquids that she knew nothing about. Her gaze finally moved to the mantle where different random pieces were displayed almost like trophies in front of various newspapers. And there on the very top of the mantle was a painting. Vivian stared at the portrait in puzzlement. Why did that face look so familiar…
"Ah ha that villain slipped this time! I shall have him!" a voice cried just as the door to 221 banged open to reveal a very suspicious looking character. "Out of my way, out of my way!" he cried, running through the room and whipping off his hat.
"I say!" Dawson cried angrily. "Who-" he paused as the hat landed on his head. "Who are you?!" he demanded pulling the hat off.
"What? Who?" the man exclaimed turning back to Dawson. He reached up and yanked the mask off his face. "Basil of Baker Street my good fellow," he said with a bow.
Dawson looked floored as Basil removed the remainder of the disguise, but Vivian looked on in awe. She couldn't help but notice how handsome he was as he pulled on his dressing gown and flicked the dart back into the very center of the target without any visible effort.
"Mr. Basil I need your help, and-" Olivia began, but Basil cut her off.
"Will you excuse me?" he said curtly and brushed past her, clearly with his mind on other things.
"Now see here!" Dawson exclaimed as Basil continued to fly around the room. "This young lady is in need of assistance. I think that you ought to-"
"Hold this please, doctor," Basil said passing a gun to Dawson.
Dawson held it away from him as though it were diseased. "Now wait just a moment, how did you know I was a doctor?"
"A surgeon to be exact: just returned from military duty in Afghanistan, am I right?" Basil asked as he placed a bullet into the gun.
"Why yes," Dawson replied in obvious shock. "Dr. David Q. Dawson," he introduced. "But how could you possibly-"
"It's quite simple really," Basil said quickly. "You've sown your torn cuff together with a Lembert stitch, which of course only a surgeon uses." He crossed the room and collected a stack of pillows. "And the thread is a unique form of catgut easily distinguished by its peculiar pungency found only in Afghan provinces." He threw the pillows into Dawson's arms.
"Amazing!" Dawson said but it was muffled from behind the pillows.
Vivian's mind was racing as it tried to process everything that Basil had just said, and she hoped that he would not try the same trick on her.
"Actually it's elementary, my dear Dawson," Basil stated as he cocked the gun and pointed it at the stack of pillows.
Dawson threw the pillows down onto a nearby chair and pulled Olivia with him behind another chair. Vivian ducked under the chemical table just as Basil pulled the trigger on the gun.
The pillows exploded into a rain of feathers, and the sound of the shot brought the frazzled housekeeper back into the room. "What in Heaven's name?!" she cried. "Oh my good pillows!" she lamented before glaring at one of the armchairs. "Mr. Basil!" she hissed, and Basil stuck his head over the top of the chair with a fearful expression on his face. "How many times have I told you not to-" she began angrily, but Basil cut her off.
"Yes, Mrs. Judson it's quite alright," he soothed. "Mmm, I believe I smell some of those delightful cheese crumpets of yours. Why don't you fetch our guests some?" He pushed her into the kitchen and shut the door quickly behind her.
"Now," he said turning back to the room and falling to crawl around the floor. "I know that bullet's here somewhere."
Vivian saw it on the floor near to where she was hiding and crawled out from under the table. Picking up the bullet, she offered it to the detective.
Basil froze upon seeing the woman holding the bullet. Very rarely was he ever concerned with something as trivial as feminine beauty, but even he could not deny that this mouse was positively lovely. He stood up and looked down at her; she was at least a head shorter than him, but she still gave off an air of strength and power. "Thank you Miss…" he trailed off just as Dawson had done.
"Vivian," she supplied quickly. "My name is Vivian."
"And I'm Olivia Flaversham," the little girl piped up quickly, hoping to finally catch the attention of the detective.
"Whatever," Basil said with a wave of his hand and turned his attention back to the matter at hand.
"Yes but you don't understand!" Olivia cried, running over to him, but Basil shushed her and lowered his head to the microscope before him.
Vivian watched as he compared the two bullets under the lens and marked his progress based on his comments.
"Yes…yes…NOOOOO!" he let out a cry of despair and anger and pulled away from the microscope. "Drat!" he cursed and seized the bullet. "Another dead end," he sighed and threw the bullet over his shoulder. He slumped over to an armchair. "He was within my grasp!" he hissed through clenched teeth before collapsing into the chair so that all that could be seen was his arm.
Twitching, that arm reached for a violin within its reach and began to play a hauntingly beautiful melody that told Vivian exactly what state of mind the detective was in.
Dawson, however, ignored the obvious cue and urged Olivia forward. The little girl squared her shoulders and walked over to the chair. "Now will you please listen to me?" she began desperately. "My daddy's gone, and I'm all alone!"
"Young lady," Basil sighed, pausing briefly in his music. "This is a most inopportune time." He continued to play before turning back to the girl. "Surely your mother knows where he is," he suggested.
"I…I don't have a mother," Olivia admitted sadly.
Vivian gasped and Basil's bow screeched against the violin's strings. "Well…uh…then perhaps…" Basil stuttered before scowling down at her. "See here, I simply have no time for lost fathers!"
"I didn't lose him!" Olivia said indignantly. "He was taken by a bat!"
Basil's face slowly melted into one of interest. "Did you say 'bat'?" he demanded.
"Yes…" Olivia said, slightly scared by Basil's change in tone.
"Did he have a crippled wing?" Basil asked.
"I don't know, but he had a pegged leg!" Olivia supplied happily.
"HA!" Basil cried, leaping to the top of his chair in obvious victory.
"I say," Dawson interjected, moving to stand behind Olivia. "Do you know him?"
"Know him?" Basil repeated. "That bat, one Fidget by name, is in the employ of the very fiend who was the target of my experiment! The horror of my every waking moment, the nefarious Professor Ratigan!" he finished pointing to the portrait above the fire.
Vivian gasped in fear. The name was not unknown to her. Everyone in the city of London knew and feared the famed criminal. He had managed to steal the crown jewels from the human Queen earlier that year, and everyone in Mousedom lived in fear of him.
"Ratigan?" Dawson asked, obviously unfamiliar with the name.
"He's a genius Dawson," Basil said sharply. "A genius twisted to evil, the Napoleon of Crime!"
"As bad as all that is he?" Dawson asked in shock.
"Worse!" Basil growled. "For years I've tried to capture him, and I've come close…so very close! But each time he's narrowly evaded my grasp. Not a corner of London's safe while Ratigan's at large!" Basil continued. "There's no evil scheme he wouldn't concoct, no depravity he wouldn't commit. And who knows what dastardly scheme that villain may be plotting even as we speak!" he finished with a flourish.
Everyone in the room remained frozen for a time as they all processed the information they had just been given. "So," Basil continued in his normal voice, "young lady, I believe I may be able to help you with your case after all."
"But what about Vivian?" Dawson asked, turning to face her.
"Ah yes I had almost forgotten," Basil cried, also turning to face her. "Why are you here, my dear?"
Vivian cleared her throat and took a deep breath. "I come from the palace. I am the personal maid to the princess, and I have seen something that worries me."
"Which is?" Basil asked in a slightly bored voice.
"There is a man courting the princess that I believe is acting under a false identity. I'm worried about his real intentions. However, in light of running into this child, I believe my concerns can wait. After all, I have no real proof…it's just a feeling. This young lady currently has no parents, and that is far more important."
"You are aware, of course, that the princess was reported missing not two days ago?" Basil asked, carefully weighing her reaction.
"Yes I had heard something about that," Vivian admitted. "But I'm not worried about her Highness. She's a tougher woman than the Queen gives her credit for. Besides, she told me she would most likely be leaving the palace for a few days before the jubilee. Please take care of Olivia first."
Basil stared at her pleading face for a long moment before finally nodding and turning to Olivia. "Now, tell me the whole story my dear, and don't leave anything out!"
Everyone sat down before the fire as Olivia took a deep breath and began her story.
So, there's the next part. I know it's a bit boring right now, but I had to get through the character introductions before I could start doing anything fun with them. I promise it'll get better now. The next part should be out soon. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and let me know your thoughts in a review; I'll really appreciate it!