It's April of 1901, and London's Great Mouse Detective will be tested with his greatest challenge yet. After the birth of his daughter, an unexpected visitor sneaks into the flat of 221 ½, kidnapping the three month old infant. Both Scotland Yard and the private consulting detective are baffled. No evidence was left behind; all that is, except a small trace of blood found in the small child's crib. Along the way, Paula is left to battle her own greatest fear which would not only ruin her, but her family as well. Will she and her husband be able to take on the biggest game of their lives or will it all lead to disaster?

All characters rightfully belong to Eve Titus and to Walt Disney Corporation. Any OC's belong to be.

Prologue

December 16, 1938

To think how fast time flies when you least expect it. In just a blink of an eye, the familiarity you were once used to, in fact, perhaps even ignored soon changes. From where I was those many years ago to where I am now, I have witnessed more change than any other mouse I know or have ever known for as long as I have been walking on this very earth. It has made me realize that as much as I despised even the slightest of change in my earlier years that it occurred for a reason. Yes, I will say that some change is never for the better, but for the worst, it seems that I learned to see passed that and focus on the good that change had to offer. For if I never did that, well then I would probably still be where I was a cold, almost heartless thinking machine with nothing to look forward to but the next challenging case to engage my superior intellect. As those closest to me went about their lives, happy and joyful for the things life had to offer them, I was still be alone and bitter, and probably still dragging myself further down into the dark depths of the abyss as I poisoned myself with my insidious addiction that would have been the end of me sooner had it been as frequently as it once was.

It was those drastic changes I had made with the help of those I care about the most that I stand here now in front of the large window of the familiar flat I had maintained residency in for the last fifty-four years. Without them…without her…God only knows where my life would have been or how it would have ended up. Even in my older years, I still feel as young and as strong as I thought I could ever be. And even now, I must as admit, I still find it strange of what I had become: a husband, a father, and what will forever fill me with the greatest joy of all, a grandfather. It is because of all the happiness life has brought me that I have been given the chance to watch my children grow and prosper and seen them become parents of themselves. But then I wonder what would have happened those many years ago had fate decided to alter that terrible incident. Regardless of everything that did occur, if I had lost the two most important treasures I had, would I have been able to come out of it as strong as I am now in months or even years' time? As much as I would like to say that I probably would have, I know for a fact that wold be a lie.

Looking away from the heartfelt scene of my grandchildren playing in the fresh winter's snow, I glanced over at my writing desk by the burning fireplace. It was usually my dear friend whom had written all of my successful cases, but this was once case I had wished for no one to ever read about due to how personal it was to me. But maybe now that time has passed and my time fairly limited that perhaps I should set aside all those past worries and share this one tale that even my own children have never heard. I figured it would be fair for even them to hear at least one of the untold cases, though this was one of the only unpublished that was successful.

Taking a seat and a fresh clean piece of paper set carefully in the typewriter before me, made on last glance towards the gleaming sound of the children's laughter before I regained my focus on the blank page before me. Now I must inform you that my narratives have never been considered as readable as Dawson's were, for though he tried his best to stick to the facts of the cases he wrote about, he always seemed to turn them over romanticize them. Perhaps this was why I never wrote about my cases myself for no one would probably ever rush to the stands as hastily as they did when wrote them. Then again, regardless of if this ever does become published, what is important is that those I truly believe have the right to know about it do and if they wish to pass it on to their own children and so on than I see no problem in that.

As I placed my long fingers delicately on the keys, I cleared my mind of all distractions while I began to write these very words…

Our life seems to be the most delicate, most treasured thing that anyone could ever possess. Our life, whether we realize it, tells a story. Each new occurrence, every turning point, is yet another chapter. Of course, some chapters we wish to skim over or simply forget since they remind us of the lowest points in our lives. Our mistakes if you will. I am fully aware of my own mistakes ad regrets, for I have made so many. But why live on the past?

Within these last thirty-eight years, I can truly say that I have been deeply blessed. Probably more than I feel that I deserved. I always assumed that I would forever remain as I once was: a childless bachelor. However, come December of 1898, that all changed when I met Miss Paula Mendez. During the time that she came to be with us, my feelings for her began to flourish into what I later discovered was love. How I was able to possess such feelings and at such a rapid pace, I did not know. But we later found out that my feelings for her were brought upon me by a villainous fiend that even I was surprised to know. James Ratigan, son of my former arch enemy, managed to master the dark arts, something before that I always believed to be childish trickery. He was the schemer behind Paula coming to our world and for me succumbing to these feelings for her.

Even after James' death, Paula was still haunted from the traumatic experience. Both of us suffered external injuries that in time would heal, but psychologically, even I was not sure precisely how long she would soon be able to put aside all that had happened. Much like myself after Ratigan's death a year prior, she herself suffered from horrid nightmares; but as I was able to manage through my own ordeals, she could not. At first, while I was out of commission due to the extent of my own injuries, Dawson has come to stay at Baker Street so that he could remain close by. Once I was able to move about, I took over caring for her. On several occasions, I would wake with Paula at my own bedside. Her excuse was that she did not want to sleep, for if she did, then she would no doubt dream.

I had realized when she had come to sleep with me those few times that she would actually sleep throughout the night, even whilst I stayed with her after her ordeals. Though still, I wish I could say even with me by her side her sleep was peaceful. Nowhere close. Disapproved by the good doctor and my landlady, to ease her mind she began to retire to my bedroom instead of her own. My presence seemed to give her that comfort and reassurance that even I myself needed.

As months went on, we both become more at peace. What was of the past was finally put to rest and we were able to focus on what the future had to offer. A year had passed since that dreadful night and by this time, Paula and I had been together for almost eleven months since February. She had gotten used to her new surroundings and even had the courage to let her secret be known to the others, which all accepted and even questioned when given the chance.

Though I too had many thoughts about her old life, I did not want to make them known for I felt that I was responsible for her remaining in this world with little to no future for herself. She had dreams and goals that only in her century she could properly fulfil, but now she was trapped in a century where her sex really had no options. She knew how I felt and even admit that if she were given a chance to return home, she wouldn't take it. She cared and loved me too much to leave me behind with only the memory of what could have possibly been. Flattered and touched I was, I still felt that pang of guilt that she would still throw everything she had going for herself away because she wanted to be with me. Despite the feeling still remained, after a while, I chose to not let it bother me for I had other priorities at hand. One of which would change both of our lives hopefully for the better.

On New Year's Eve, after Mrs. Judson had departed for Sussex, this to me felt like the perfect chance to make my move. All that day I paced back and forth in my bedroom as I tried to come up with some way to express how I truly felt for Paula. Even after being in a relationship with her for so long, I still found it to be a great challenge. What I thought in my head and when slipped through my lips never seemed to be good enough. It all seemed too…bland. Sure I was deeply in love with her, but I needed to come up with a way to express that to her that really meant something, something that would stick with us for years to come. After many hours, I was finally satisfied with what I had come up with. Now the next step was how and where this little arrangement would take place. That easily came to me as I remembered the marquee we go to whenever we walk around Regent's Park. The scenery was such a splendid sight!

I managed to keep everything, including our destination secret right until I set everything up to make the mood a bit more romantic. Just as I had hoped, Paula was in awe at the sight around her. She and I knew that I was never the most romantic, though I certainly did try to be when the time called for it. Candles surrounded us. The dim light from the burning wicks seemed to make her beauty glow as it reflected off her just so. Never did I think this moment could be more perfect. Even after all the embarrassment I went through due to losing my words to even losing the blasted ring, to my absolute delight and relief, she accepted my hand in marriage.

When we finally wed, neither one of us were ready for all the drastic changes that were about to enter our lives. It was three months after we returned from Spain that Paula and I discovered that she had fallen pregnant. Since I lived within this era and the expansion of families was essential, I had the idea drilled in my mind that Paula having a child with the first year of our marriage would occur. But for her this was no longer a huge priority since the life expectancy had risen due to amazing breakthrough in medical technology that has yet to exist here. She told me that planning for a child (the first one especially) rarely occurred amongst newlyweds. This was either counted as an accident or as a mistake. So knowing this devastated her terribly. However, there is no denying that she wanted children, this I knew for a fact since we had discussed it countless time before we even were engaged. Though it killed me, I had given her permission between an abortion and adoption if she was not willing to keep the child, but without any hesitation, she turned down both. Her opinion of abortion was made clear that taking a life that had yet been given a chance to live was unacceptable and unfair; while adoption—though less unjustifiable—was still in her eyes as an easy, but painful way out. She had made the decision to giving herself to me and with that, she had to learn to face whatever consequences followed.

It wasn't long after that she began to accept her pregnancy, and as the months came and went, I watched in awe as my wife grew. Never had I seen such a gorgeous sight. Paula seemed to glow every so brightly, and never had I seen her smile the way she did. Getting closer towards her due date, secretly, I had decided to turn the bedroom across from ours into the nursery instead of it being in the room down the hall from us like we had originally planned. Everyone, except for Paula knew of this little project and assisted me in making it possible. When it was finished, I chose to wait until Christmas morning to show her the nursery. She was speechless!

Finally the night came when unexpectedly Paula went into labour. Alas, I was not close by when this occurred for I was forced by my wife to assist Inspector Vole in a homicide case involving a young woman by the name of Emily Hamilton. There was some suspicion that her jealous husband, Charles T. Hamilton, a business lawyer here in London and whom I was familiar with all too well had involved in her brutal murder. Sadly, this case brought me to Northern England. This made me feel a bit uneasy, but she could see how anxious I had become the closer the baby's arrival became. Call me a bit overprotective of her and our unborn child, but it drove her mad when I was constantly by her side. She told me this was normal, but I could tell it annoyed her at times. But as much as I detested the idea, I chose not to argue.

Since my departure, I had this gut feeling that something was not right, but I was assured that everything was fine. During the time that I was away, my lack of attention on the case due to my worrying annoyed Vole. Then again, it seems that everything I do does just that. I kept thinking the worst and it seemed that for once, these thoughts did not go unnoticed by anyone, including Dawson (who had accompanied me upon my own request). It took me hours to realize that I had made a huge mistake and Dawson and I rushed to make it to the next train back to London. Not once did I even care that I would soon receive verbal abuse from a certain inspector for leaving the case without any word of my departure.

Upon finally reaching home, it was already passed midnight. Both the doctor and I were tired and weary from the long travel. Downstairs was empty and no sound was heard. I called out, but neither Mrs. Judson nor Paula answered. Dawson had already rushed upstairs while I ran into the kitchen. I was baffled to see towels scattered on the counters. My thoughts were soon interrupted when I heard a painful cry from upstairs. Not giving myself a chance, I rushed to the top floor, skipping steps along the way. I stood in worry when I ran into my bedroom seeing Paula unconscious and blood at the end of the bed. Her face was covered with sweat and as pale as a ghost. Even with the sound of the child's cries drowning out the silence, I could not tear my eyes away from my wife who remained still in the bed before me. Touching her, she was cold and lifeless. For a brief moment, I feared that I had lost her, but thankfully this was not so. It seemed that with the lack of medical technology we had, the process was too much for her and wore her out.

I was soon put to ease when I ventured into the nursery where either my new son or daughter was placed. I was so worried about Paula that I had completely forgotten about the small child. When seeing her for the first time, I was at loss for words. How did I help create a child so beautiful, so perfect? The moment I held her in my arms, the world seemed to stop turning. There was only me and my daughter. All my worries and fears that were leading up to this moment had vanished. Getting a good look at her, she was a spitting image of me. What she inherited from her mother was her dark complexion, which allowed others to fully be aware of her Hispanic heritage, as well as her gorgeous eyes and nose. However, if anyone were to see her, they would know right away that she was mine. This precious gift belonged to me; her father, her reason for being here now.

The most surprising occurrence aside from her being born two weeks before her actual arrival was the date on which she was born; though not at the precise hour, she was born January 6th. My daughter was precisely forty years younger than me for I was reminded of my own birthday by my wife. So was this coincidence, or fate? Regardless, to me, this was the most precious gift Paula could have ever given me.

Keeping close to our daughter's Latin roots, we gave her the name Sara Carmen, properly after my wife's grandmother. It seemed to suite her perfectly. She was just so full of life. If anything were to happen to her, it would destroy me. This is where my tale of happiness ends, and my tale of hell begins…