AUTHOR'S NOTE: School is exhausting and I only ever have time to update on weekends. Le sigh. Anyway, this chapter was QUITE enjoyable to write, ah hurr hurr hurr. Have fun miladies. 8D

Wild Rose

CHAPTER 2

Maybe it was out of habit or out of a new insecurity, but Bombalurina found herself staring into a mirror again. It lay, frameless and broken, at a corner of her den. She'd smuggled it into her home after she'd found it from the last haul of garbage brought in, which was more than three years ago.

Frowning, she twisted one way to another to find the most perfect curve to line her body, to dip slightly at the small of her back and stretch back out at the beginning of her legs. She lifted her tail and bent it, to look playful.

The fur on her head had grown longer, had begun to bend downwards gently with gravity. Locks fell to cover her eyes, if she tilted her head right. It was uncharacteristic of her to keep her mane so untidy, but uncombed it gave this rebellious, brazen look, which she found she quite liked.

Her fur, aglow in its famed scarlet, was a swirl of spots and lines. She was wild, and like all Jellicles was not owned by a human, and she especially loved to flaunt that. The washes of red reminded Bombalurina of her early life with her mother, Grizabella, who originally was the same color of deep fire. Her own coat, it seemed, was destined to fade to the same dusty silver, and in a sudden moment of worry she lifted a hand to touch her as-of-yet unwrinkled face.

The queen noticed the faint cut on her finger, from when she'd picked a rose yesterday.

Bombalurina was not superstitious. The younglings of the Jellicles were encouraged not to be, though the older ones secretly kept to some of their old ways. Making sure to face the direction of the moonrise when sleeping, killing a mouse with only the claws on the left never hurt nobody.

But that cat…

It must have meant something. But what? Turning away (and inspecting the grace of her twirl), Bombalurina left her mirror to search out the only cats who probably knew.

The identical pair of cats sat composedly on the car hood, both sharing the same stare of nothing across the junkyard. Curled up in between them, Bombalurina saw, was a dark, restless young queen who absentmindedly pawed at the male twin's slow, swaying tail.

"Coricopat, Tantomile," called out the scarlet queen, climbing up to the edge of the hood. "How is your day?"

Tantomile, the female twin, directed her gaze at her, softening from thoughtful to pleasant. "It's nice," she said simply.

"You'd think that by now, Jennyanydots would rescue a few roses to keep in her den," said Coricopat, looking over to Bombalurina as well. "The impending storm won't stop to think of them."

"I wouldn't mind rescuing a few," piped up the little queen, lifting her head from Coricopat's lap. Her blue eyes were wide and fascinated. "They're so beautiful to look at. And Coricopat, you should get some too. Maybe they'll make you smile more."

"I'm content with how much I smile, Jemima," replied the tom, with only a reserved pat behind her ear. "Concentrate on your meditation."

Jemima, ever since her trance at the Jellicle Ball, had become Tantomile and Coricopat's apprentice of sorts in the art of clairvoyance. Her progress was slow and as of yet she'd not experienced a vision, but the twins still kept her as a student. Bombalurina couldn't figure out whether it was out of determination or affection.

"It's so hard to," Jemima scowled. "Especially on this beautiful day."

"Concentrate," Coricopat repeated, and the queen dejectedly dropped her head back onto his lap, squeezing her eyes shut as if forcing the peace of mind to come quicker.

"What are you here for, Bombalurina?" Tantomile asked, turning back to her. "I know we're friends, but no one comes to us these days without questions."

"Oh… I'm sorry," the scarlet queen stepped back slightly.

"No, there's nothing wrong with that. Ours is a dying art. Go on."

"I saw a cat yesterday," Bombalurina began, and then she hesitated a little. "Well, an outsider. He was mostly black. Some orange. Looked rather wild."

"What was he doing?" asked Coricopat.

"Nothing. We just stared at each other. Then he turned and ran away," she realized how insignificant the entire event sounded. She lowered her eyes, embarrassed. "It just made me worried. I mean, what if he was a spy? One of Macavity's?"

"It doesn't sound too dangerous," Coricopat replied. "And I'm sure we'll come up with some sort of analysis if you would just stop squeezing me like that-"

Jemima giggled, her arms latched on around the tom's waist as she lay at his side. "I'm sorry! You're just so funny and cute when you talk and I just want to hug you!" She broke into a playful laugh.

"We each deal with our own worries," said Tantomile to Bombalurina. (Was that a tiny bit of sarcasm she sensed in the Mystic's voice?) "But all this event tells me is that your sense of observation has increased. Plenty of outsiders pass by the junkyard all the time. I'm sorry, Bombalurina. I suggest you don't fret over it."

The scarlet queen sighed a little. "I suppose you're right. I should be going now, anyway. Cassandra's having kits and Jenny needs me over."

"While you're there, tell her about her roses," Coricopat told her. "She needs to get a few to replant before the storm next week."

"Can you ask her to get me a rose?" asked Jemima.

"Back to your meditation, student, and don't say a word," commanded Coricopat, but in an uncharacteristically mild way. The queen groaned and hid her eyes behind her hands, curling back up between them sulkily.

Bombalurina turned to jump off the car hood. "Goodbye, you guys."

"Goodbye, Bombalurina," the twins answered, eerily in sync.

"Bye-bye," called out Jemima as the scarlet queen ambled away, earning her another soft smack on the head from Coricopat.

"Rina, dear," Jennyanydots said as the queen walked into the medic's den, padding up to her. "I'm sorry to call you. The litter doesn't seem to be ready just yet – maybe tomorrow. Could you help me put back the water?"

Bombalurina was about to reply, but the Gumbie Cat scurried off, distracted, twittering to herself different reminders. She turned her head to see the regal Abyssinian, reclining on the bed, her figure a sleek, sharp line, save for the maternal roundness of her belly. Sitting on a stool beside her, his elbows resting on his knees, was her mate, Alonzo, who looked wearily up at the scarlet from the ground.

Alonzo, improperly handsome. His black and white patches were not the most admired coat in the tribe, but it was in his movements, in the impudent tilt of his brow that made Bombalurina swoon. She had a past with him (then again, she had a past with Admetus… Plato… Mungojerrie… on and on), if warm nights and hurried meetings could be considered a past. They stopped after she noticed the way he stared at Cassandra. If Bombalurina was anything, she was perceptive, and he was in love.

"Are you alright?" she asked, nodding at the dark queen.

"A little tired," replied Cassandra, her head slightly sunken into the pillow. "It's a challenge to carry these kittens each day."

Bombalurina figured it was a challenge for Alonzo, too – to go all those months with nothing but a rigid, pregnant queen to lie next to every night. The poor thing probably wasn't built for faithfulness.

Feeling sorry for him, Bombalurina bent over at the side of the bed, pretending to talk closer to Cassandra, while rewarding the black-and-white tom with a generous view of her curves. She could nearly sense the shift in his posture, the sudden lifting of his eyes and ears.

"So round," she pretended to be interested in Cassandra's belly. "It looks to be about five kittens. Do you have names planned?"

The Abyssinian shifted to look at her, her icy eyes for once gentle and tired. "Well, only two. One of the boys will be named Leander, and one of the girls will be Rowena. We'll figure out the rest once we see them."

Bombalurina nodded. Then, she smiled inwardly to herself. Cassandra, majestic, elegant Cassandra, was now reduced to the obscurity of motherhood, no longer her competition in the junkyard. She was still beautiful, yes, but unlike Bombalurina she'd lost the freedom to charm toms at will.

"Bombalurina," called Jennyanydots, returning into the medic's den. "I'm sorry to have kept you for so long. You may go now. Alonzo, Cassandra, you too."

"Thanks, Jenny," Alonzo replied, standing from his chair. Bombalurina straightened up as lithely as she could, so that he'd notice what he was missing. The sudden stiffness in his posture suggested he did, but he had to snap out of his daze to help his mate off the bed.

"I hope you've been well, Lonz," Bombalurina said, keeping her eyes on him in a perfect sideways glance.

The tom shot her a silent, wide stare – this was dangerous territory to flirt in.

"Oh, and Rina," Jennyanydots suddenly piped up, and held out a few damp rags. "Could you please put these outside? I need them to dry."

Bombalurina sighed. How did that Gumbie Cat always manage to make her appear so unglamorous at the worst of times?

"Of course, Jenny," she replied with forced cheerfulness, taking the cloths into her arms.

She regarded Cassandra with a nod, and Alonzo with a deeper, more languid one, and the daughter of the Glamour Cat sauntered out of the medic's den.

"Hello, Mungojerrie."

The calico tom looked up to see her leaning against a junk pile, a mysterious smile on her lips. The sun brought with it sweltering heat, and he shielded his eyes from its glare.

"Oh, Bomb'rina. Swell to see ya." It hardly was – he was currently on his knees, gathering the soil to put against the fence for Jennyanydots' roses. He looked undignified, and even thieves had their dignity. Why couldn't she have come when he was all nice and clean?

"What are you doing?" the gorgeous queen asked, bending down to look at the soil and affording Mungojerrie an absolutely luxurious view. "This isn't for Jenny's plan to grow flowers, is it?"

"It sorry is," Mungojerrie smirked a bit, brushing the fur away from his eyes. "Milady needs 'er soil packed up tightly, she says."

"How gentlemanly of you to do it for her," Bombalurina laughed sultrily. "What a waste for a body like yours, though. To be resigned to gardening…"

He didn't know if her breath lightly touching his face was on purpose or out of her misjudgment of the distance between them, but it wasn't helping. She had to look so gorgeous all the time and here he was knee-deep in dirt and covered in sweat because it had to be so hot-

"What're ya doin' here, Bomba?" asked Mungojerrie, looking up straight into her eyes. They regarded each other with just as much determination to overpower. "Sure ya got better things t'do than watch a bloke work…"

The scarlet queen lifted her head slightly; she let her lips brush a breadth away from Mungojerrie's forehead. Sweet Bast above, how could this be happening? Wasn't she just with Alonzo a week ago… or Pouncival… or Plato…

"Is that what you want me to do, Jerrie?" she whispered. The movement of her lips tickled his skin, lightly. "You just want me to leave?"

With her standing so close it was like an everyday steal for an everyday thief. Just reach out, just grab. Consequences were for cowards.

"Hell no," he replied, and orange enveloped red.

Gathering the soil took much longer.

Bombalurina was lonely. It was impossible to wrap her head around it, but everyone else had since gone and paired off and grew up and there she was. It had been so long since she was last with someone. There were those certain trysts, and close encounters, but she was never with someone.

She stepped out to the side of the junkyard, forgetting the rags she was holding and staring out at the same alley she'd seen the wild cat in yesterday. It was empty and black. What did she expect, two cats this time?

She was about to move on and hang the rags, when in the dark of the alley the glint of two yellow eyes flashed in less than a second.

"Bombie! I figured I'd find you here. What-"

"See that!" the scarlet queen exclaimed as she dropped the cloths, grasping the wire of the fence through the rose stems. "See that? It was him again! The same one!"

She turned her head frantically, to see Tugger standing behind her, looking surprised. He squinted through the fence.

"I don't see anything," he said simply.

Bombalurina rolled her eyes. "You act like you're so helpful."

"But I don't see anything!" the Tugger shrugged.

Bombalurina gripped the wires tightly, staring out across the maze of streets. They stretched forever past the buildings in sight, past what was visible from the inside of the junkyard.

"Tugger… have you ever wanted to get out of here?"

The lanky Maine Coon bent down and placed his chin on one of her shoulders, gazing casually at the city. He was silent for a long time, and Bombalurina wondered if she'd said something that a Jellicle would consider disturbing.

"All the time," came his reply, and the scarlet queen relaxed her grip of the fence.

"Damn it, Tugger. I'm going to go crazy in here."

The tom lifted his head and moved to her side, resting an elbow on her shoulder.

"Beat ya to it," he answered, and through the wires and brambles of roses they stared.