I figured I might as well submit the second chapter since it's up. Enjoy :).
Chapter Two
In the heat of the day, Munkustrap lay snoozing beneath the hood of a lorry to escape some of the sun's beating glare. The guts of the vehicle had been torn out, leaving an open space that he made his home away from home with a few old shirts and one of his young master's baby shoes. He slept heavily, wearied from the long night and relaxing in the knowledge that Alonzo, his second in command, had things well in hand.
Munkus wasn't the only Jellicle in the vehicle, though. Through a hole in the floorboards that came out on the inside of the left front tire peeped two hazel eyes topped by two golden ears and a spray of gold and black mane. Demeter was very much awake, and spying on the tom she secretly admired.
"Psst! Deme!"
The gold queen ducked out of the hole and tucked herself against the tire. "Not so loud, Bomba. What's going on?"
The red queen smirked. "Just what I was going to ask you. Doing a little snooping, are we?"
Demeter looked at the ground. "Not really. Just making sure he's all right."
Bombalurina rolled her eyes. "Girl, you've got the hots for him bad. Why don't you say something?"
"Oh, I couldn't!" Deme exclaimed, horrified.
"Why not? I saw you two at the Ball last night, getting all cuddly." Bomba's words didn't have the desired effect. Demeter only shrunk deeper into herself.
"I wish we didn't have to sing about Macavity," she whispered.
The red queen's shoulders drooped in defeat. "I wish we didn't either, honey," she said, wrapping her arms around Deme's slender shoulders. "But we have to, so everyone knows how bad he is. No one else has seen the depths of his evil like we have."
"But he came, Bomba. He took Old Deuteronomy."
"And Munkustrap protected you," Bomba declared, satisfied at having brought their conversation full circle. "You know, it's only proper you should thank him."
Deme's lips quivered into a smile, and she brushed away a few tears. "How come you're so good at giving love advice if you never follow it yourself?"
Bombalurina stiffened involuntarily. "What do you mean?"
"What was that nonsense, attacking Vickie like that last night? After the best night of her life? You were right of course, when you said she was no longer a princess, but the way you said it was rude, not congratulatory. Do you know why the Courtship is a part of the Jellicle Ball?" Demeter pressed, holding tight to her best friend even as Bomba pulled away. "It's a beautiful thing, something we all share to celebrate with the couple. But you scorned her. Why?"
It was Bomba's turn to look at the ground. "Because I love Admetus."
Deme paused. "Ohh." That brief statement was followed by gentle fingers combing through Bombalurina's thick, luscious red fur. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." The red queen stepped away from her friend's embrace, stoic-faced. "Go on, go talk to Munkus. And don't come out until you've thanked him properly."
Demeter blushed. "Go away, Bomba, you're being silly. I'll do it my own way."
"If you say so." With a last wink, the red queen departed for her own lair at the top of a chest of drawers.
Alone, Demeter was suddenly much more hesitant. Slowly she lifted herself up, holding her breath as she peeping into the darkened interior of the lorry. Munkus still appeared to be asleep, curled on his rumpled-up shirts with his back to her and breathing rhythmically. With a surge of courage, she boosted herself up into the dim, warm space and crept to his side.
He rolled over, looking up at her with his bottle-green eyes twinkling. "Hello, Deme."
She wilted instantly. "Sorry. Sorry for bothering you, I'll –"
He caught her wrist gently as she turned away. "Stay awhile. I don't mind." His face was so kind and welcoming that she couldn't stand it, and she buried her face in his shoulder. He rubbed her back with one hand.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He didn't need to ask what for.
Rumpleteazer was worried about her brother. He wasn't up to their usual games. Instead he moped about the house all day, pacing the halls and never staying in one spot. He would leap up on a chair as if to curl up, but would leap down again the next moment, off in search of a new spot. When she suggested hide-and-seek, he turned away irritably and stalked off. Once he gave her the supreme insult. When she asked if he wanted to chase marbles down the neatly polished, double-story staircase, he sat down purposefully and began licking himself.
She was now thoroughly miserable. The Chamberlains had locked up before setting off that morning, Margaret still upset over the loss of her pearls, with the promise of a cat-sitter every two days. But if Teazer was going to stay inside all the time and watch her brother be miserable, then she was no burglar.
"I'm going to the basement, don't bother to come," she drawled as she walked carelessly past her listless brother, who was on his back in the sun streaming in from the window.
The basement was the tiger twins' favorite spot. It was cool in the summer, with plenty of obstacles and junk piled about in storage. Jerrie jokingly called it their summer home, for they had built a little nest area in a tipped-over cardboard box with Lydia Chamberlain's silk sheets and Mrs. Chamberlain's favorite pincushion. Rumpleteazer scorned the box now, however, leaping instead onto the broken pool table and changing into her humanoid shape to clamber up onto the sill of their escape window. One of the hinges was broken, and it was a simple matter to push one corner and slip out into the warm spring evening.
"Croikey, I do love bein' a Jellicle," Teazer whispered to herself, rolling about in the garden dirt in delight. With a few sniffs to make sure the neighbor's Peke wasn't about, Teazer returned to cat shape for the trip across town and leaped onto the fence.
Rumpleteazer hated Pekes, especially the one next door. Pekes weren't like Pollicles, who could change shape and converse like proper, polite folk, nor even like Poms, who understood what you were saying but were generally too lazy to answer back. Pekes yapped and yipped and attacked viciously, without the sense of fun that Pollicles had when they chased you down the street, laughing uproariously. Even Pugs were better, though they had a tendency to lose their heads and bite first and ask questions later. But Pekes… Rumpleteazer shuddered. She could only be glad that Miss Lyddie's spaniel Roger was a Pom, and not prone to overexcitement.
The trip to the Junkyard was fairly quick today, because Jerrie wasn't lagging and dragging and pouncing at shadows like he usually did when they went together. Of the two of them, Teazer decided, Jerrie was definitely the more kittenish one. She reflected with half-daydreamy pleasure on her Courtship last year. She hadn't been very keen on taking a mate yet – then again, what princess was at that age? – but enjoyed the attention she got from the toms, especially Pouncival and Alonzo. Tugger had tried a few passes, but he irritated her with his hip-swinging and egotistical attitude, so she sent him packing pretty quick. It's true, Pounce hadn't been much older than she was, but he was very nice and equally disinterested in a prolonged attachment. They were both just testing the waters, so to speak. Just like Victoria had been the night before.
Rumpleteazer wondered again at her brother's interference with the queen-fight. He wasn't one to act the hero – in fact, he was often pretty cowardly – but something had made him step up and keep Bomba and Vickie from doing each other further harm. Inside, Teazer had a few intuitional theories about her brother and his not-so-hidden interest in the voluptuous red queen, and she intended to scope out the situation tonight while Mungojerrie wouldn't be around to witness her plans in action.
Climbing onto the top of his metal abode, Munkustrap turned his face into the fresh evening breeze and breathed deeply. Before him, visible through the small hole produced by the dent in the hood, Demeter stirred sleepily in the pile of shirts. Munkus shivered in satisfaction and anticipation. They weren't mates yet, but he intended to make her his one of these days and seal the deal for good.
Crouching on the top of the lorry, the silver and black tabby surveyed the Junkyard critically. Nothing seemed to have gone amiss in his absence, which was good. Alonzo acknowledged him from across the way, slipping off an old kitchen chair and slinking away to hunt. His cousin, Tumblebrutus, emerged wild-maned from Demeter's customary pipe, looking a little out of it as he shook off sleep. In the center of the little clearing the Jellicles had made their home generations ago, Etcetera played lazily with a shoestring, watched over protectively by her older companion Electra. Those two were still an enigma to Munkustrap. Etcetera seemed ditzy and only partially "all there," and yet she had a certain insight that seemed out of place on her babyish face. Electra was exactly her opposite, razor sharp and reclusive, and yet they got along perfectly together. No one knew exactly what had happened to bring them to the Junkyard – Etcetera didn't seem to understand when she was asked, and Electra lied outright – but somehow they had found a place in the hearts of all the Jellicles.
Skimbleshanks was awakening also, emerging from a microwave with his mate Jellylorum following. They were a unique pair, not prone to showing affection in public. They had become mates later in life, and neither were expecting any offspring to result from their union; yet Munkus had heard through the grapevine that Jellylorum was expecting, despite their age. Another surprising romance had developed recently, though according to Junkyard gossip it was still in the early stages. The vivacious, outgoing Rum Tum Tugger was showing an interest in the more enigmatic Cassandra. This was a disappointment to the younger princesses, especially Etcetera and Jemima, but Munkus was sure they would find a new "king tom" soon.
Munkustrap's musings were interrupted by the emergence of Demeter, who joined him on the top of the lorry and curled up at his side. Munkus brushed a kiss across the top of her head.
"Sleep well?"
She nodded, pressing her face into his shoulder shyly.
"Meow!" came a call from across the Junkyard. Munkustrap looked up and flashed Tugger a warning look. The Maine Coone tom held up his hands in surrender and slinked across the floor to impress Cassie.
Bomba languished in the shade of a burnt-out oven, avoiding both the evening heat and the gazes of curious Jellicles. Her own eyes were pinned on the silver and gold couple cuddling on the top of the lorry across the square. Munkus was alert and watchful as ever, but it was easy to see the preoccupation that hung beneath his usual serious demeanor. The reason for that preoccupation could only be Demeter, cuddled up against his side and trying not to stare at him too much. A small smile curved Bombalurina's red lips. Her younger friend was obviously smitten, and it looked like the Jellicle guardian reciprocated the affection. All was going well in that department.
The red queen examined her claws, checking for any flaws almost like a human female would check her nails. The one thing she disagreed with in the time-old rhyme The Naming of Cats was its declaration that the reason for a cat's hours-on-end contemplation was that it was pondering its own, secret name. For Bomba this was only partially true. Her other passion was plotting, especially plotting the happiness of the people she loved. Demeter was obviously at the top of that list. Better yet, it looked like Bomba's plan was succeeding. Almost as soon as the two queens had arrived at the Junkyard, Bomba knew Munkustrap's protective, caring nature would be perfect for her skittish, timid friend. Now that they were well on the way to their happily ever after, it was time for her to turn to her next project – herself.
Just as she was beginning to lay out the basics of her latest scheme, Bomba's unfocused eyes caught a glimpse of orange and black. Blinking rapidly, she realized she was staring directly into the face of a tiger queen identical to the tom that had stopped her last night. Mind racing, she tried to recall her name. Rum... Tease... Rumpled...
"It's Rumpleteazer," the queen announced in a bordering-on-painful Cockney accent.
"I was getting there," Bomba replied, a little bit irritated at getting interrupted in the middle of plotting. "What do you want?"
"Oh, nothin' much," the other queen replied, settling down beside her and irritating her further. She didn't want any company at the moment. "I just hear we have something in common."
"And what would that be?" Bomba asked bluntly.
Rumpleteazer turned and stared at her again, unnervingly similar to the honest gaze of the tiger tom. "A scheming mind."
For the first time, Bomba was interested. She sat up, dusting off her gleaming scarlet coat. "What did you have in mind?"
Teazer smirked. "I also understand you're in the romance business. Care for a partner?"