In his pipe Mistoffelees sat, unable to sleep. It was the small hours of the morning, close to dawn, but before the first glimmer of light showed on the horizon. He knew he was probably the only one in the junkyard who was wide-awake at this hour. The thought made him feel even more alone. With a shiver, the small tuxedo tom wrapped his tail around his legs.

Why am I always alone? He asked himself the question every night he couldn't sleep. Every night since the last Jellicle ball, when he realized that his feelings about the mating dance…had changed somewhat.

It had always just seemed kinda strange and silly and formal before…just a dance that the older cats insisted was very important, that a few young adults worried so much about finding a partner for. It was just a dance, and not even a very interesting one. To take the center with a partner meant you would be mates, but a tomkit cared more about showing off during the other dances than about that small little ceremony.

Until he grew up a bit more, and realized what it truly meant to have a mate.

Or, more specifically, until he realized what it meant not to have one.

The view of the junkyard shimmered somewhat, as if it were underwater. Tears were pooling in his soft brown eyes. With a shake of his head to clear his vision, Mistoffelees jumped out of his pipe and ran across the junkyard, barely noticing where he ran. He just wanted to be moving, to keep running until his lungs ached more than his heart. He ran until his breath burned and his paws ached with the impact on the hard ground.

A gleam of moonlight off a broken mirror caught the small tom's eye. Slowly he walked up to it, looking at his reflection. "What do they see when they look at you, Misto?" he asked his reflection.

Critically he eyes his image in the broken glass. A small tom, even by Jellicle standards. Short and slender. But not wiry…no, just petite. Tuxedo coloring, with mostly sleek black fur. A white face, still childishly soft. Mistoffelees grimaced a little as he realized that he probably was never going to lose his baby-faced appearance. It didn't help him look any older, that was for sure.

"What do the queens see?" he whispered, staring his broken reflection in the eye. "A runt? A weakling?" He squared his shoulders a bit, held his chin up. "A brat?" He tried to smile. "a dancer?" A few sparkles ran through is fur. "A magician?"

Since no one was around, he tried his best to imitate Tugger's signature smirk. It didn't fit his soft face. He sighed and hung his head a bit. "Do they see you at all?" he whispered, turning his face away from his reflection and facing the yellow moon. Just at that moment a cloud passed, obscuring the moon's light.

Great, he thought, not only am I talking to myself, but even the moon won't look at me. The little magician turned back to the mirror, looked his cracked image steadily in the eye.

A resolution was forming in his heart. If no queen he knew could love him…he would find one who could. Someone else, somewhere else. Someone unknown. He wasn't the heartthrob of the junkyard, but he was a magical cat. He had resources.

Mistoffelees shut his eyes so he could concentrate on what he had to do. Just as carefully he shut his mind against that small doubting voice inside him. He needed to try this.

Slowly he channeled his magic, gathering his strength. The words always sprung to his mind fully formed…ancient magic coming to him almost by instinct. His lips barely parted to whisper the spell.

"Show me a queen that I've never known

Show me a heart I can claim as my own"

There was a flash of light.

The small cat opened its eyes, but things seemed foggy at first. The moonlight was completely obscured by clouds, and magic has weakening effects. "Did it work?" a soft voice asked, and the small cat clapped a hand over its mouth, lurching towards the mirror. With a squeak the young cat noticed the cracks in the mirror were now fixed, the glass a gleaming expanse of darkness.

A breeze blew through the junkyard. The clouds pulled away their veil, revealing the yellow moon. Light poured down and the mirror shone.

The small cat cried out, long and loud.

In the mirror was reflected a small, pure black…

Queen.

With the quick movements of panic the ebony cat looked down at herself, examined the jet-black body. A nearly invisible tear trickled down a dark cheek. "This isn't what I meant!" Mistoffelees cried out, startled to hear the words in a feminine voice. She shook her head miserably. What have I done? Mistoffelees thought.

There was a rustle in the junkyard, and a lanky figure appeared. There was the low, admiring whistle of a tomcat.

Forget what I've done- what am I going to do?

Well…should this continue? Any thoughts? Let me know what ya think!