In the original Great Mouse Detective film, the plot begins with Hiram Flaversham abducted by Fidget, Ratigan's right-hand bat, and thus ruining what was supposed to have been Olivia's "very best birthday." After she is abducted by the pirate bat himself, there is a very brief, but obvious conflict between the two characters just before Fidget shoves her inside that giant green bottle. In this story that you're about to read, you'll soon realize that conflict in the movie is nothing compared to the conflict that arises when it involves Fidget's beloved daughter. Fidget, Olivia, Basil, and Dawson are properties of Great Mouse Detective; all other characters belong to me.

Chapter 2: The War of History (Me and my ENEMY)!

"So where did you learn to play the violin, Jenny?"

Jeanette and I shielded ourselves from the mighty rain within a large hole in the trunk. She insisted that I call her Jenny since that's what her friends call her.

"Mr. Basil taught me," she replied.

"Mr. Basil?" my jaw dropped. "As in Basil of Baker Street?"

Jenny nodded. "You know him too?"

"He saved my life once." I briefly told Jenny the story of how my father was kidnapped on my birthday, how I sought Basil of Baker Street for help, and how we discovered that it was Professor Ratigan, plotting to steal Queen Mousetoria's place on the throne by using my father to build a mechanical queen. In telling her my story, I deliberately left out details about the peg-legged bat. I thought it was best to not mention bats in front of this little girl, for fear she might get offended. To my personal relief, she never asked me about it and she was such a curious little child. I also preceded to tell her about the rest of my history since that kidnapping, up to the point where my father passed away. She must've felt deeply about my loss because I noticed her wiping her eyes with the back of her wrists and sniffling.

"'Ow dreadful," she uttered in a shaky voice. "I'd be very devastated if I lost me father. 'Im and I are very close."

"You must have a good father to be close," I replied.

Jenny lifted her chin and placed her hands on her hips, the sign of a proud lady. "Me father is funny. 'E doesn't talk much, but when 'e does, 'e knows 'ow to tell a good story."

She told me how her father would tell stories of his adventures with his family, and play pretend games with her (like pirates going treasure-hunting). Her father was a tailor in a small shop, feared by some mice for the same reasons they would fear Jenny (for being a bat), but loved by the small circle of friends and children around him. He had a very poor upbringing, with very limited education, making him an object for mockery and scorn. But he was a very smart man with many skills. That was how Jenny described him. It reminded me so much of my own father. He was also a very shy man who grew up in a very restricted household. He was very sensitive to loud sounds because his own father was always drunk and had a very fowl temper. My father would tell me stories of how he got a scolding and a beating if he was caught sitting in front of a window sill daydreaming or siding with his mother (he was protecting her from his beatings). My father never quite grew up, and that was the secret as to why he became a toymaker. It turned out Jenny and I had more in common than I could ever imagine. Besides being very close with our fathers, we both preferred hanging out with boys over other girls, we had a deep love for nature and toys, and we both loved adventure. Jenny had a very active imagination, which both her parents strongly encouraged. Her mother happened to work for Basil of Baker Street and persuaded him to give her violin lessons. Jenny was a very devoted pupil to anything she put her mind to. As I pointed out, she had a fondness for nature and was often seen digging holes in the dirt in hopes she would find some ancient fossil or Spanish treasure. Jenny also had a little brother, whom she was often forced into baby-sitting by her mother. She loved her little brother, but like any first born child she was burdened by the harshness of the adult world. She would complain how boring her little brother can be because he was always afraid, even of the dark (which is highly unusual for a bat). Since I never had a baby brother or sister of my own, I pointed out that she never had to worry about being lonely. She would be his guiding light in a world of darkness. She heaved a sigh of exasperation, a sign that my words of wisdom bored her because her own parents told her the same thing.

"Your family sounds very interesting," I said.

Jenny smiled a proud smile. "Would you like to meet my family?"

That was the most thrilling news I ever heard! I was definitely interested in knowing Jenny's family, especially her father. Jenny's description of him reminded me so much of my own that I just had to meet him! "Where do you live?" I asked.

"485 Addington Street," she replied. "It's just across the bridge by the Thames. I'll be waitin' for you there, tomorrow evenin'."

"I will be there."

Before we went our separate ways, I was concerned about Jenny going home by herself. I insisted that I walk with her up until the bridge, to which she agreed. When we arrived at the bridge by the Thames, we were greeted by her mother. For a bat, she was a belle! Strangely though, she didn't bare much resemblance to her daughter, except for her nose and bridge. The woman's name was Deniece, known by the public as Deniece la Chauve-souris, an actress and singer by profession.

"So this is the same lady who scared you?" said Deniece.

Jenny chuckled nervously. "Yes, well ... that was an accident."

"Pardonner ma fille, mademoiselle," Deniece said to me. "Sometimes she lets her imagination get the best of her."

"We already made up," I informed her. "You've got a very bright daughter, Madam Deniece."

"Merci."

Jenny told her mother about inviting me for dinner to their house, begging for her approval. To Jenny's delight, her request was approved. Deniece would be cooking the dinner while Jenny would wait for me by the bridge.

Once again, I laid on my bed at the inn for the night. I closed my eyes as I pictured in my head how dinner at little Jenny's house would be. I was suddenly disturbed by a child-like giggle. When I woke up, I found myself in the same grassy horizon as the night before. This time, I stood right among the bed of blue flowers. Jeanette Holloway was nowhere in sight, yet I could hear her giggle. I wanted to rush to the source of the sound, but its echo blanketed the black sky. There was no moonlight, nor stars this time. There were only black clouds and thunder. Then I heard something else. The sound of a violin. Jenny's violin! It had to be! I ran across the grassy fields in search for it. It began to rain heavily. I must've been going mad; Jenny's laughter, thunder, a violin, and a strong gust of wind mixed together ... it begged me to run faster! The violin sound grew louder ... and then I stopped. What stood before me was an image of sheer horror. A giant, broken dirigible sat at the foot of a mountain. The same dirigible that crashed into Big Ben the night of the Diamond Jubilee. And both the sounds of the violin and Jeanette's giggle were coming from there! I approached the dirigible with caution. Why would Jenny be hiding in there, I wondered! Two wooden planks were split open on the side, but all I saw within was pure black. Suddenly, the sounds of Jenny's laughter and violin ceased. Everything was silent.

"J-Jenny?" I whispered; there was no reply. I knelt to the level of the open planks. "Jen-AAAHHH!"

Darkness covered my face! With my two hands I grabbed what felt like a webbed hand clasping my face. I began to pull it free. I opened my eyes to see what had grabbed me ... and realized that I was holding my pillow.

I was in my bed back at the inn, and I was panting for a breath. "Only ... a bad ... dream," I uttered between breaths.

The time was 5:25pm. It was the evening I would finally get to visit Jenny's house for dinner. In all my excitement, I dressed up in my best clothing. As to my previous dream, I dismissed it as an ordinary bad dream from too much excitement. Today was going to be different. I will be meeting Jenny's father shortly. A father who would be just like mine.

I rushed out the inn, my whole body shivering from excitement. The bridge by the Thames wasn't too far. I spotted Jeanette, patiently waiting for me to join her.

"You certainly don't waste time," Jenny teased.

Little Jenny was dressed in a forest green shirt, midnight blue skirt, and black dress shoes. A spring-green scarf was wrapped around her slim neck. Jenny was truly a nature girl and it showed in the colors she always wore.

"Come on Livvy!" Jenny urged. "Our dinner will get cold if we stay out 'ere too long!"

We arrived at 485 Addington Street. The door was just on the side of a tall, green-colored house, with a yellow canopy. Two windows sat opposite the door, their sills covered with rectangle flowerpots filled with buttercups. To my surprise, a strong hesitation overwhelmed me as I approached the door. I had no idea why I felt so nervous. Has it really been that long since I've been invited to a family visit? I forced myself through the feeling as I humbly knocked on the door. It was Deniece who answered. She wore a glittering turquoise dress and silver hoop earrings. Her butter-toned hair was neatly groomed and pinned up in a bun. Her long side-strands rested on her breasts.

"Welcome to the Holloway Household," she greeted. "My husband is a little late at his work and won't be home for another ten minutes."

"Is that the girl, mummy?"

Clinging close to Deniece's right leg was a little boy bat who looked up at me with timid eyes. Unlike Jenny, this creature looked exactly like his mother, except that his eyes were round while his mother's were almond-shaped. He had a small bridge, like Jenny's and had only a few strands of hair on his head.

"This little man is Finnius Jr.," Deniece pointed out. "He's a little shy."

I knelt to Finnius Jr.'s level to greet him. "How do you do?"

Finnius Jr. did not respond, but buried his face in his mother's hem.

"Oh stop it, Finny!" Jenny blurted in exasperation. "She's not going to bite you."

"Don't tease your brother, Jeanette," Deniece ordered.

"I'm not," Jenny replied in an annoyed tone.

Deniece shook her head, ignoring her daughter's remark. "Well, don't be shy! Come in!"

Jenny and I walked inside to the scent of fried kippers. Deniece had cooked a fair amount of fish and vegetables. Being a mouse, I was never fond of fish. Fortunately, Deniece had baked cheese crumpets and placed them in a basket on the table, a sign that she took my eating preferences into consideration. She also had another basket, full of fruits. Jenny helped Deniece set up the table while I was in the children's bedroom, trying to get acquainted with Finnius Jr. As Deniece pointed out, little Finnius was shy and didn't like to talk much. I learned that he was also a fussy eater. He only ate fish if it was boiled, never fried. He would spend too much time playing with his food that his father had to force him to eat. It wasn't until his mother used more subtle methods to convince little Finnius to eat his food. One thing he had in common with his big sister was he had a vivid imagination and liked to play pretend games, though he didn't share the sense of pride and adventure that Jenny had. Finnius Jr. liked to hide in boxes and sometimes used them as mini tables to read his books. His favorite subject was science and he often dreamed of being a chemist someday.

I asked Finnius Jr. to tell me a bit about his father. His description was nothing at all like Jenny's. Little Finnius described his father as always sad. His father would sometimes sit on a stool by himself, withdrawn from family activities and thinking of the past. Finnius Jr. would be the one to provide his father comfort. Since little Finnius was a very timid child, his father would help him to overcome his fears, though sometimes he got a little carried away, making his son even more fearful. Although he loved his father, he was more closer to his mother. His father would say that it was because she spoiled him. I learned that his father and he shared the same first name, Finnius. His father was also crippled, as Finnius Jr. said.

Suddenly, a knock on the door interrupted our conversation.

"Daddy's 'ere! Daddy's 'ere!" I heard Jenny cry happily.

The moment of truth awaited. The children's father was here! Now was my chance to meet him!

Finnius Jr. left the parlor to greet his father. As much as I shared the same excitement as the children, I stood perfectly still as I listened to the voices.

"You look tired, dear," I heard Deniece say. "How did work go?"

"Da usual, Niecy."

My ears twitched at the sound of the second voice. I could hardly credit what I had just heard. Da usual? Based on Jenny's description, I imagined her father to have a soft, gentle voice, similar to my father's. But the voice I heard sounded ... raspy, like a cigar smoker. I impulsively stepped out of the children's room and rushed downstairs to get a good look at the father. Who was he? What did he look like? Jenny stood by the foot of the stairs to greet me. "I told me father you were 'ere," she said. "'E would like to meet you."

No sooner were her words spoken than I saw the shadow of a bat. All of a sudden, my heart sank as I recognized every detail of this creature's character traits. The wings were outstretched as its shadow took each step, which came to a halt every second step. I glimpsed at the shadow's feet ... one foot was missing! A peg was in its place; I knew that kind of trait could only come from a pirate. But my worst fear was realized when the bat finally emerged in the room ... and then, I knew! Those red rings around his yellow eyes, the notch in his right ear, the unusually large mouth, and that pig-like nose! My body went rigid with livid emotions as I stared into the eyes of my old enemy, and he into mine. Those horrid words that Madame Ratburn told me in Scotland were racing through my head: "You will run into an enemy from the past. Old wounds will surface, and there will be discord ..." It was him! It was Fidget ... Ratigan's peg-legged lackey!

"You!" I finally found my voice again. "What are you doing here!"

"I was gonna ask you da same question!" Fidget reacted in a defensive tone.

"Finnius?" I heard Deniece's voice call out. "Do you know this girl?"

Fidget nodded with a scowl. "Yeah, I know her. We go back a long way."

"Livvy!" Jenny uttered in surprise. "I never knew you were friends with Daddy."

My attention shifted back to Jeanette. "Is this your father, Jenny?"

The girl bat crossed her arms. "Of course 'e's me father," she sighed in exasperation. "Can't you see the resemblance?"

I looked up at Fidget, then back at Jenny. What she said was true. She did bear a resemblance: the gray fur, the ears, the English cap, the way she dressed, the occasional standoffish manner ... All were shared traits of Fidget. It was no wonder she looked familiar to me when I first met her. Why didn't I see that before!

"Take Jenny to the diningroom, Niecy," Fidget told Deniece. "I want to ... visit with my old friend."

"Can't we leave the visiting for dinner?" Deniece suggested. "The food is prepared and the children are getting hungry."

"I want a few minutes alone," Fidget insisted.

"I think that's a good idea, Madam Deniece," I added. "Your husband and I have some ... catching up to do."

Deniece refrained from further protest and beckoned the children to come in the diningroom with her. Fidget closed the door gently, but did not take his eyes off me.

"How could a man like you be a father?" I asked in a nonchalant tone.

"Dat's none of your business," Fidget replied.

"It is if a certain criminal is not in jail where he belongs!"

"So what's it to you, kid?"

"It's not Jenny's fault that she has you for a father. She deserves better."

I knew my last remark insulted him, because Fidget was seething through his teeth. "Don't you tell me how to raise my kids. Dhey're mine!"

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms at his comment. "Yours, you say? Are you sure they're not other parents' children you stole?"

"You're an idiot! Of course dhey're mine! Jenny said so herself, 'can't you see da resemblance'!"

Our little battlefield must've lasted longer than we both anticipated; Deniece opened the door shortly after Fidget's outburst.

"Are we going to eat dinner or not?" she asked in an impatient tone. "The children are waiting."

Fidget took a deep breath to regain his composure. "Yes Niecy, I'm comin'."

No sooner did Deniece turned around to walk back in the diningroom than Fidget began to follow. I did the same, but only at distance and after Fidget went to the other side of the door. As I walked in, thoughts of Madame Ratburn's prediction raced inside my head. It seemed like the discord she predicted had already started when Fidget and I had our first quarrel. She also said that it would be up to me in how I choose to deal with this discord. But how can I deal with it? I see Fidget's face and the only thing I can ever think of is how my eighth birthday was ruined! When I looked at him, my first thought was to strangle him! However, I chose not to act on that impulse for one very important reason: Jeanette. In the short amount of time I knew her, we developed a strong relationship. The last thing I wanted to do was to sever that relationship. Why should she pay the price for something her father did? And she was a very smart and mature child ... nothing like her father at all! I found it hard to believe that she was Fidget's daughter, despite the obvious resemblance they both shared.

The family feast was alright, no different from any other. The only differences were Deniece and the children engaged more in conversation while Fidget and I sat in livid silence, staring at each other. It wasn't until Jenny spoke that our attention was shifted from each other. "Auntie Annabella sent you a telegram, Daddy," she told Fidget. "Great grandma Maria auditioned for a role in an opera called The Sea of Changes. It's supposed to be about the war."

"Your grandmother is a very active woman, Fidget," Deniece said with a smile. "A gentle voice like hers is just what London needs in this time of need."

"Why do people go to war?" Finnius Jr. asked his mother. "Why can't everyone live in peace, like we do?"

Oh, the pure innocence of childhood! How I longed to be his age again! Life was simple and possibilities of a better future were endless! Unfortunately, the world of adulthood was more difficult than a child could ever imagine. War was a necessary evil, an adult's vision of a better future. And even the most peaceful families got involved in war, mostly by force. But how could you explain that to a child?

"Well, dear," Deniece began to explain with motherly affection. "It's like this: there is a book, like the ones you read. All books have two sides, a front and a back. And then there is the middle, called the spine. As long as all three pieces are together, the book is in perfect harmony, and easier for you to read."

Her explanation sounded very odd, yet I was interested in hearing more. I listened with undivided attention, as did little Finnius.

"But books also have a weakness. Over time, they get very old. One side goes in one direction and the other side goes the opposite. Rather than staying together, they become brittle and eventually break apart at the spine. Now you are left with a mess of pages on the floor with nothing to hold them together. That is what war is like. All creatures live in harmony, and then they become restless. One race wants to go left, the other wants to go right. One tries to convince the other to walk with them, the other refuses. Both sides become restless until one day they divide and those who want to maintain harmony are left with no direction at all."

Finnius Jr.'s eyes widened in surprise. "Wow ... I never thought of it that way, mummy."

"Dat's why great grandma's going to sing in dat opera," I heard Fidget tell his son. "Because music fixes da spine and brings everyone back together."

My interest to Deniece's story faded and I began to cringe. A creature like Fidget say 'brings everyone back together,' after he was the one who divided me from my father! What a hypocrite!

Finnius Jr. turned his head to face Fidget. "Did you ever go to war, Daddy?"

I saw Fidget wince at his son's question. Now this should be very amusing, I thought to myself. If Fidget hadn't done so already, he would have to tell him what Finnius Jr.'s father was really like.

"Well uh ... yes, somethin' like dat."

Little Finnius's ears perked up, as did Jenny's. "What kind of war was it, Daddy?"

I could no longer control myself. "Yes, Daddy," I mocked. "What kind of war was it?"

My sarcasm caught everyone around me off guard, Fidget included. Fidget in particular fixed his gaze on me, because he knew what I was referring to. He took a deep breath before he spoke. "When I was Finny's age, I lived a free life with no spine, like your mother was talkin' about."

I chuckled. No spine was correct. I've always known Fidget to be a coward. His large ears perked up and I knew he heard me, but continued his story nonetheless.

"I didn't have a mother or father, you see. Both my parents were killed by ... one of dhose bat hatin' races. I didn't have anybody to take care of me ... until some other race found me, and brought me to dheir leader."

Again, I chuckled. Parents killed by bat haters? He was probably making up this story so that his children would feel sympathy for him.

"Was this leader mean, Daddy?" asked Jenny.

Fidget nodded. "Everyone was afraid of her. She captured a lot of mice. Some she killed, others she tortured."

Blaming an innocent woman for YOUR crimes? I thought to myself. No doubt in my mind that he most likely killed and tortured.

"Did you get involved, Daddy?" said Finnius Jr.

A frown appeared on Fidget's face. "I tried not to, but ... sometimes, son, war just happens. We're never prepared for it, and dhen we're swept into it."

"Like you were swept into ruining a little girl's birthday!" I blurted, exhausted with this blasphemy.

"I didn't say dat," Fidget replied defensively.

"Well you speak as if you were a helpless victim."

Fidget's storytelling came to an abrupt halt. Now he and I were glaring at each other. "Why don't you just tell them the truth, Daddy? Tell them how you broke into our house, and that you kidnapped my father and I!"

The peg-legged pirate snarled. "Why don't you explain to my kids why you came back to London!"

"What is the meaning of this!" Deniece interrupted. Our argument most likely was getting out of hand because Deniece and the children stared at us in awkward disbelief. I was the first one to speak.

"Let me explain, Madam Deniece," I began. "There's a reason your husband and I know each other. My father and I were taken captive for Professor Ratigan's plot to overthrow Queen Mousetoria ... by him!"

"What are you saying, Livvy!" asked a confused Jeanette.

My heart broke when I was confronted with telling Jenny the truth. "I'm very sorry, Jenny," I began, fighting back tears. "I didn't want to tell you this, but ... your father is not the man you think he is."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember our conversation in St. James Park? I told you that I was kidnapped by a bat once. Your father was that bat."

Jenny turned her gaze to her father, her eyes wide with shock. "It's not true, is it Daddy? Please tell me it's not true!"

Fidget lowered his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Jenny ... but it is true."

Our family feast became silent as a graveyard the remainder of the visit.