A/N: eep, sorry I didn't put in an authors note before this. I didn't even think about it. Well, this is my Cats fanfiction. I LOVELOVELOVE the musical, and pretty much get shivers when watching it, so I figured a fanfiction was in order. I have no idea how long this will be, but it has MistoVictoria so I'm happy! Enjoy and PLEASE R&R!!
Chapter 1
A Dance
Two yellow orbs gleamed from the shadows. Slowly and carefully a lithe body slipped its way into the light. The moon, now full, cast pale reflections on the queen's snow white pelt. With unspeakable grace she crept across the cleared ground. Her paws barely made a sound as they touched down on the cool earth.
She began her smooth movements—twisting to some imaginary song playing sweetly in her mind. With motions only possible for a cat she swept across the ground.
She was not alone. Another pair of eyes watched transfixed as she danced lightly around the junkyard. This cat was hidden neatly within the shadows of a pipe. His paws trembled with the urge to go to her, but he locked himself in place, whiskers twitching. She was beautiful. He couldn't think of anything but her. And that dance… she danced like an angel.
He watched as the moon sank lower and lower in the sky, and her fevered dancing became tired. She danced until pink glowed on the horizon. She crept back into her place in the shadows only seconds before the soft mews of waking cats sounded through the junkyard.
Something about her dance, or maybe the fact that it was the ninth rising of the full moon, reminded him how close the Jellicle Ball was: only a few moons away. He made a promise to himself that he would know her name before that time and that he would speak to her.
His eyelids felt heavy from a night without sleep, but he didn't complain. He wouldn't have missed her dance for the world.
A paw prodded him in the side, pulling him out of his reverie. "Heya, Quaxo!" Tugger. Of course.
Quaxo stood and stretched, his limbs stiff from not moving a muscle for so long. "Hey, Tug. Can you tone down the energy?"
The Rum Tum Tugger smiled, his tail swishing energetically behind him. "Aw, come on! There's places to go, queens to catch."
Quaxo sighed. There was only one queen he was interested in, but he didn't even know her name.
"Get up, already! I think the smell from this pipe is rotting your brain. Get some fresh air!"
The air outside the pipe wasn't exactly "fresh"—it was a junkyard for Pete's sake!—but it was better. Getting his mind off the white queen from last night was easier in the open space: easier, but not easy. As Tugger blathered on about queens and kits and fancats Quaxo's mind kept flitting back to the cat he yearned to see. He knew he'd seen her before, mingling with other Jellicles, but never had she shown the grace of her dancing. Never had he looked at her long enough to see her beauty.
A paw smacked him across the back of the head. "Hello-o! I said Munkustrap is looking for you."
Quaxo blinked. "Oh, sorry…" He took in a deep breath, searching out Munkustrap's scent from the rest. It wasn't exactly a pleasant task: even the strong smell of cats wasn't enough to mask the reek of the junkyard. Still, after several nose-burning breaths he was able to discern Munkustrap's scent and follow it. He didn't bother to ask Tugger who had told him this. Another cat had probably come up to talk to them while he was thinking about her.
"Munkustrap?" Quaxo asked, ears pricked. Not far off he heard the reply.
"Quaxo! There you are. I need to talk to you." By the tone in the tribe protector's voice this wasn't going to be good. Quaxo waited for him to continue. "I hate to ask this of you, but I need you to be Mistoffelees for a bit." Being Quaxo all the time was easier than being Mistoffelees—as he had discovered early on. When he was Mistoffelees cats were always asking him to do constant magic, whether it was to help them find something or just to entertain them. When he was Quaxo he could still do magic, but it was limited, and no one asked anything of him.
Quaxo sighed. He was already using nearly all of his limited Quaxo powers to keep the protections around the junkyard. They were basic, but they kept unfriendly visitors out. "You know how much energy that takes, Munkustrap. I'm already using most of it keeping this place protected."
Munkustrap frowned. "That's just it. The Jellicle Ball is getting close. I'm worried that Macavity…" He trailed off.
Quaxo breathed a sigh of relief. "Is that all?" Munkustrap's glare of disapproval made him reword his sentence. "Don't worry. I'll know if Macavity is anywhere near. The Ball is still too far away for us to be thinking about him."
Munkustrap looked down at his paws. "It's just… I want her… I want the tribe to be safe."
He smiled and put a gentle paw on the other tom's shoulder. "I know you worry about her, but it's fine." It was understandable for Munkustrap to be worried about Demeter, his mate-to-be. She'd been victimized by Macavity once, and it had taken a very long time and a very many friends to get her back to normal.
"If you're sure…" Munkustrap seemed uncertain.
Quaxo assured him that all was fine and went about his way. There was a queen he needed to find, now that he'd suddenly gained the ambition to find her. It would be difficult though. When she had danced he hadn't thought to memorize her scent, and without a name who could he ask? So he wandered blindly, searching for her, the one who would not leave his mind.
It was like a vision, what he saw next. There, curled up peacefully on the hood of a broken down car, was the white queen he'd spent hours looking for. He took a shaky step forward, not sure if any of it was real. He leapt neatly onto the car next to her. She didn't stir. Surely, positively, this must be a phantom, a dream his weary mind conjured up to spite him.
Unable to take his eyes off her, he gently reached out and touched a paw to her flank. Her eyes shot open and he jumped back, barely catching himself from tumbling off the car. "S-sorry!" He squeaked, awed.
She looked confused at first, but then a warm smile spread through her eyes and he struggled against the weakness in his limbs. "I know you," she purred, in a voice as musical and fluid as her dancing, "You're Quaxo, right?"
She knew him. It was enough to make him burst with joy. "I… er… yes." He tried to compose his thoughts, each running pell-mell through his mind and trampling over one another.
She suppressed an airy giggle. Her tail waved lazily behind her and she pulled herself swiftly to her feet. Cocking her head to the side she smiled at him again. "I'm Victoria."
Victoria. The name he'd searched for, for what felt like days had finally reached his ears. He savored it, burned it into his memory so that he'd never forget it. Victoria.