Disclaimer: I do not own Cats or any of the characters from it.
-BeginStory-
"You have to understand, Plato. It's not you. It's me."
A blank stare met her announcement.
"Well, actually, it's not really me either. It's more…him."
Blink. Blink.
"It's just…I mean…I can't help it! He's the Conjuring Cat, for Rumpus's sake!"
Now, that got an actual expression from him. It wasn't one Victoria particularly liked, though, so she stumbled on, only too well aware that she was just digging a deeper hole with every word.
"I mean, he's got these magical powers! And he can dance! Er, not that you can't, of course, you were wonderful during our Mating Dance, but he…"
The expression grew worse on his face. Victoria was starting to get nervous. What was that human phrase they used to describe moments like this? Oh, right. If looks could kill…
Well, actually, if looks could kill, she wouldn't even be in this mess, because Misto would have been dead two weeks ago from the time he had innocently put an arm around her waist with Plato in the vicinity…
But the expression on his face wasn't getting any better, so Victoria thought she had better snap back to reality.
"Look, Plato, I'm really sorry," she said as sincerely as she could. "But, er…I hope we can still be friends?" That last part hadn't been meant to come out as a question, but she couldn't help that.
A new expression crossed Plato's face, and the white queen decided she didn't like that look any better than the previous one. It was a grin that wouldn't have been out of place on Macavity's face, and a strange gleam in the tom's eye.
"Oh, sure, Vicky," he said in a voice that was pleasant in the way a serial killer's might be as he recounts his deeds. "Of course we can still be friends. We were friends before, after all, and why should something as silly as a Mating Dance change that?"
All right. Victoria decided she definitely didn't like the way Plato was acting right now.
"Er…great!" she said with false cheerfulness, edging towards the door. "Er…I'm just going to leave now, all right Plato? I'll see you later?"
"Of course, Victoria," Plato answered, and continued speaking even after she had fled his den. "You can count on seeing me again, very soon."
--
"Wow. That's harsh."
"Tell me about it."
"I mean, the whole 'It's not you, it's me' thing is enough damage to a tom's ego. But then she has to go and list all the things she likes about him, and why he's so much better than you, and—"
"When I say 'tell me about it,' I don't actually want you to tell me about it!"
"Well then why'd you say it?"
"It's a figure of speech, moron!"
"Well it's a stupid figure of speech! Why would you say—"
"Would both of you just shut it?" Plato snarled, rubbing his head. "Rumpus, as if my day isn't bad enough, you two have to show up and make it that much worse!"
Tumblebrutus and Pouncival at least had the decency to look ashamed of themselves. Briefly. For about two seconds, at least, until Tumblebrutus decided to open his mouth again.
"So she left you, huh?" Plato rolled his eyes, groaning.
"Haven't we established that?"
"So what're you gonna do about it?"
At this, Plato grinned. The grin was the same one Victoria had been so frightened of earlier that day, and now Pouncival and Tumblebrutus found themselves growing nervous. It wasn't a pleasant grin, nor was it one that had any real cheer or humor in it. It was a grin that promised painful things that would be very enjoyable for the person doling them out, but perhaps not to enjoyable for the victim.
"You know that human phrase, 'Don't get mad, get even'?"
"Yeah?" Pouncival asked, looking excited. Plato nodded sagely.
"Yeah," he intoned. Tumblebrutus smirked.
"Nice," she said, leaning back against the wall of Plato's den.
"Wait, I don't get it," Pouncival said, furrowing his brow in confusion. Tumblebrutus rolled his eyes.
"You're so slow sometimes!"
"Hey, I can beat you in a race anyday! I'm one of the fastest toms—"
"Not that kind of slow!"
Plato rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered why he was friends with these two.
And then he remembered that these two were the only toms around his age. Mistoffelees didn't count. Mistoffelees had never really counted as a whole tom in Plato's eyes. Perhaps half of a tom. He was just too small, and all that 'magic' stuff wasn't helping.
Just too bad none of the queens saw it that way.
"Guys! Do you want to hear the plan or not?"
Now that got their attention. Tumble and Pounce snapped their eyes to him and shut their mouths hurriedly. Plato smirked.
"Good. Now, here's what I'm going to do…"
--
Step One: Etcetera
"Hey, Cettie!" The pale tabby kitten turned as Plato approached, grinning and waving at him.
"Oh, hi, Plato! What's up? I thought you'd be all upset today, y'know, on account of Victoria and all from yesterday, but you don't look upset, in fact you look pretty happy, oops, I mean not anymore…sorry, Plato!" All of this was said in one breath, and without losing the cheerful grin, even as she apologized at the end. Plato struggled to replace the smile on his face, but it turned out more like a grimace. Fortunately, Etcetera was never one to really notice things like that.
"Oh, it's all right, Cettie," he purred, stepping up to her and slipping an arm around her waist. "I mean, me and Vicky just weren't working out. She just wasn't my type of queen, y'know?"
"Uh…yeah…" Etcetera said, eyes wide and confused. This was probably all very odd to her. Plato had never acted like this before. This wasn't like him. This was more like…Tugger.
Suddenly Etcetera's confusion was replaced with glee. She could live with that.
"So I figure I better just get over her, y'know?" Plato said, grinning down at the shorter cat and tightening his grip on her waist slightly—just slightly, just enough to pull her a little closer. "Find something a little better. Y'know what I mean?"
Inwardly the tom winced at this behavior. He didn't really like acting like this, but what needed to be done just needed to be done. And this definitely needed to be done.
"Uh, yeah!" Etcetera proclaimed brightly, nearly bouncing up and down with joy. This was a dream come true—almost. It was like her own personal Tugger! Well, not quite…
"So, catch ya later, huh?" he said, winking and releasing her so quickly she stumbled a bit. "And I mean that," he added, just to be sure she knew he was interested. Well. To be sure she thought he was interested.
As he walked off, he thrusted and wiggled his hips in the best imitation of Tugger he could manage. Behind him, Etcetera squealed with joy. This was almost as good as the real thing, and he was all hers!
Plato smirked. Step One complete.
--
Step Two: Electra
"Oh, hi, Plato," Electra said warmly as the brown and white tom approached. She got merely a smile and a nod in reply, which wasn't a surprise. The rust tabby hadn't known Plato to talk much at all, at least not to her. Of course, from what Etcetera had been squealing over the last week or so, he'd been…talking with her quite a bit lately.
Electra went back to her knitting. It was a skill she'd learned from Jennyanydots, and although the other kittens had teased her mercilessly about it, she really enjoyed it. Not to mention, it was something she could do, and none of them could. That was a definite bonus to her.
After a few moments she looked up to where Plato was still standing in silence, staring at her.
"Erm…is there something I can do for you, Plato?" she asked, and got a shake of the head in response. He never took her eyes off of her.
"Um…all right, then. You can sit down if you'd like," she said warily. He did so in silence, his head turning to watch her as he moved. He took a seat just far enough away from her to keep her from being too uncomfortable.
"Are you all right, Plato?" Electra asked after about five minutes of this. "I don't think you've blinked once all this time…"
"I'm sorry, Electra," the tom said, and he sounded genuinely sorry about it. His ears went to the sides in embarrassment, but he still didn't look away from Electra. "I just didn't want to miss one moment of your radiant beauty."
Electra's eyes popped open in surprise, and then a glint of pleasure appeared in them. She wrung her paws in front of her and looked down, ears snuggling back against her skull.
"Um…thank you, Plato…" she muttered, obviously embarrassed but happy. Then she picked up her knitting needle and began again, but couldn't stop smiling to herself.
Plato let himself smile without taking his eyes off of her. Step Two complete.
--
Step Three: Jemima
"Jemima? Can I talk to you?"
The black, white, and scarlet kitten paused as she trotted past Plato, glancing back at the tom in surprise. He had seemed fine lately, even after the…situation with Victoria about two weeks ago, but the brown and white tom's voice had been filed with sorrow. Her eyes widened a little as she looked at him—he was slumped over, wringing his paws in front of him with his ears drooped to the sides, looking as if he was about to cry.
Something in Jemima gave a little twinge at the sight of the anguished tom and she rushed over to him, sitting so close that her thigh was pressed against his and wrapping her arms around him (with some difficulty—after all, she was the smallest cat in the tribe, and he was one of the largest).
"Oh, Plato, what is it?" she asked sympathetically, letting him wrap his arms around her in turn. The tom sniffled slightly, obviously holding back tears.
"It's…what did I do wrong?" he cried out suddenly. "Why is Mistoffelees so much better than me? Why doesn't Victoria want me?"
Another twinge, and Jemima hugged Plato tighter. "Oh, Plato! It's not you, really! I don't know what Victoria was thinking, you're such a wonderful tom! Handsome, and smart, and a wonderful dancer, and strong, and…"
Plato listened as Jemima rattled off every trait in his favor, sniffling a little but pretending to get better each second. He felt almost guilty, using the poor queen-kitten this way, but he would do anything to get what he wanted. And he wanted Victoria to see just what a mistake she'd made dumping him.
Finally, once she was done (and Plato noted amusedly that she'd found quite a long list for him), he pulled away slightly, giving his best (albeit slightly sad) smile to her.
"Thank you, Jemima," he said softly, letting his paws trail down her arms to grasp both of hers. "Really, thank you."
"It's not a problem," Jemima replied, smiling warmly at him. "If you ever need to talk again, you can always come to me."
"You're amazing, Jemima," Plato said, looking her in the eyes. Jemima turned away in embarrassment, then looked back at him shyly.
Plato resisted the temptation to smirk and ruin the whole thing. Step Three complete.
--
Step Four: Victoria
Victoria sat with Mistoffelees, sighing contentedly as her head rested on his legs. He'd just spent nearly an hour wowing her with his magic, and now the magician was half-asleep against a pile of junk. She'd insisted on his laying out a blanket for the two of them first, though—his black fur wouldn't show dirt, but her white fur would show even the slightest bit as if she'd rolled in a mud puddle.
But she jerked her head up at the sound of approaching cats, her ears tipping towards the commotion. Then she smiled. Here came Electra, Etcetera, and Jemima, her three best friends in the tribe, were heading towards her, giggling about something. She stretched and removed herself from Misto's lap, springing up gracefully to join the trio.
As she grew closer, her excitement dimmed.
"…don't know what Vicky was thinking!" Electra was saying, smiling bashfully as she noticed the white queen's approach.
"Sorry, Vicky, but do you even realize what you gave up?" Jemima asked her, covering her grin with her paws. Victoria was just confused.
"What do you mean?"
"Plato!" Etcetera squealed, causing the other three to wince and grab at their ears. "He's so handsome and charming and funny and smart and cute and strong and—"
"Cettie?" Electra broke in, looking strangely at her friend. Etcetera paused mid-sentence and looked at the dark tabby questioningly. "Shut up."
Before Etcetera could do more than look hurt, Victoria broke in.
"What are you three talking about?" she asked, puzzled. "Plato? Since when do you three like him?"
And then all three kittens began talking at once, jabbering excitedly about Plato and just how wonderful he was. As they talked, Victoria began to feel jealousy creeping up on her. These three…and Plato…her former inteded mate…how? Why? What?
She was so confused!
And then the tom in question strolled past, giving a small smile and a nod towards the four queens. Etcetera, Electra, and Jemima all squealed and rushed him. Plato slung an arm over Electra's shoulder on one side, Jemima's on the other, and let Etcetera slip in just in front of him.
"Care to join me for a walk, ladies?" he questioned smoothly, and all three giggled and gave their acceptance.
He just barely hid a smirk and began to walk off with his new fanclub, noting the shocked look on Victoria's face.
Only three weeks, and Operation: Revenge was already complete.
And as a bonus? Now he had his pick of three pretty queens.
--
Elsewhere in the junkyard, the Rum Tum Tugger sat confused and devastated, wondering just where his fanqueens had gone.
-EndStory-
A/N: No more 'poor Plato', I guess! Heh. So manipulative. And with such cheesy lines.
But poor Tugger, now! I think he needs a hug. Any volunteers? Just get in line behind me...I'll only be a few hours...