The rest of the day went by rather uneventfully. The woman, who Mistofflees had started to refer to as Alice, slept. The captain worked, and Tugger continued to show Mistofflees around the ship, sharing his secret cubby holes and favorite hangouts. His favorite of these, was the small notch just under the crow's nest. Thanks to his claws, it was easy for Tugger to scale the mast to reach it, but he resorted to the nets when Mistofflees revealed his own clipped, dull claws.

Mistofflees had spent most of his life living under the Governor's house, not really knowing any other life then the one of luxury, which is why Tugger found it amazing how well he adapted to the sudden change. He'd laughed however, after their meal when Mistofflees had asked where the bath was. After about three minutes of watching Tugger lick himself clean, he finally got it, "Give myself a bath?"

"You're a cat aren't you?" Tugger teased, working the underside of a paw with his tongue, "That's what cats do."

Mistofflees hesitated, staring at his paws accusingly before giving one an experimental lick. He screwed his face in displeasure, making Tugger laugh, "You act as if you've never given yourself a bath before?"

"I've been living in the governor's house since I was a kitten, there's never been a need to. I was always clean, and when I wasn't the maids were told to bathe me..." he informed the Tom, looking down at his paw again in contemplation.

Tugger paid attention, but kept himself occupied with grooming, trying to think of a suitable reply to that. He turned, opening his mouth when he finally found words, but laughter replacing them as he saw the cat. Mistofflees was trying to reach his back with his tongue; a rather impossible task. His tongue was stretched to it's limit, and his face was exploding with strained determination. Tugger pushed himself up, chuckling as he got closer to the cat, nudging him away. "I got it."

"Tugger? What are you-"

The feeling of the Tom's tongue was sudden and made Mistofflees jump. It felt good though, warm and gentle. The buds of Tugger's tongue de-knotted any matted fur and left Mistofflees purring pleasantly. He took his time, slowly licking over the surface of his back and the unreachable crevices of his neck. Somewhere along the line, he'd climbed over the cat, cleaning the parts of his neck and between his shoulder blades with much more ease now that he was nestled comfortably over him. Mistofflees' purring had slowly raised in volume, turning into low, whimpering and suggestive mules. Tugger knew what he was doing, but he was enjoying the way Mistofflees shuddered beneath him too much to draw away.

The grooming was suddenly interrupted by a human hand pushing Tugger away, "No. Get off!"

Tugger came back to reality with a sudden jerk as the woman scooped Mistofflees up off the floor and into her arms. "Bad cat." she scolds, shooing Tugger away with her bare foot as she cradles Mistofflees close to her chest, ignoring the way he's trying to squirm out of her arms. "Go! Shoo!"

Finally giving in, Tugger darts out of the cabin, scrambling slightly as he slips over the newly mopped deck. He tumbles, rolling until his spine collides with the mast rather brutally. "Stupid old croon." he spits, stretching out in attempt to soothe the soreness in his back. "I wasn't hurting him."

Frustrated, Tugger lifted himself, twitching a little when a jolt of pain stung through his spine. Maybe it was broken? He cringed at the thought. He wanted to find the captain. He could use a little loving attention. Tugger wandered the ship, finally coming over the man at the wheel. He meowed loudly at him, satisfied when he received a sideways glance, "Hey Rum. How's the lady? You watching over her well?"

Another frustrated meow. He didn't want to watch over that evil witch. Tugger pressed himself against the captain's leg, swirling his tail around like a tree vine. With a hearty laugh, the man reached one hand down, cupping under his belly before pulling him up and tucking him under an arm. "You know Rum, you make it hard to work." Tugger purred happily, nuzzling into his master's side. "You're like a woman.." he sighed, leaning slightly over the wheel, "So distracting..."

Tugger's purring quieted. Surely his captain wasn't falling for the she-dog? He didn't think highly of her. She was a spoiled governor's daughter who's kitten had never given himself a proper bath in his life. His irritation faded when he thought back to giving the cat a tongue bath. He couldn't remember the last time he'd mated. Sometime that they'd docked in Grandmal, with a cute little Siamese he'd found strolling in one of the back alleys. Tugger frowned. Was he desperate enough to mate with a male? I mean, the Tom was cute and all, but he was more interested in queens. The grooming thing had just been sort of spur-of-the-moment.

He wasn't really interested in the humorous, adorable and vulnerable little Tom...

Was he?