Coricopat frowned at the phone as it rang. He grimaced, picking it up, "Hello?"

Rather than actual words, the first thing that greeted him was shrieking. Somewhere in there could have been heard something about a "Macavity" and "utter bastard" and "contract."

Cori flipped the phone over so the ear piece rested somewhere below his chin, "Yes, Miss Smith, you are contracted to work with him. Unfortunately your release period ended three days ago."

"What?" she shrieked again. Mistoffelees hovered in the doorway, a cup of tea in his paws.

"I have a copy of the contract here. You signed it. In triplicate. You're stuck working with him."

In case there were any other questions, Mistoffelees went and fetched the contract, setting both that and the cup of tea in front of the mottled tom.

Cor glanced up at him offering him a flickering smile and a nod, "And yes, I realize he's an utter bastard, but a contract is a contract."

The shrieking continued and Mistoffelees retreated slightly.

The agent sighed, continuing to murmur placating things and lots of "mhms" as he returned to the note taking he'd been doing before she called.

Finally she hung up in disgust.

He hung up, resting his head in his paws, "Why do I do favors for him again?"

"I..." Mistoffelees paused and shrugged. "I don't know. Why do you?"

"Because he's my best friend and it's easier?"

The shorter tom inclined his head. "Fair enough, except for the fact you always seem to regret it."

"True, but it's less irritating to deal with the aftermath."

Pausing, Mistoffelees paused. "Well... why are you two friends anyway? I mean," he stuttered. "If it's not too much to ask."

"First grade. He came up to me announced we were friends and walked off."

Mistoffelees blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Really. It stuck, and thus it happened."

A smile flickered around Mistoffelees' mouth. "Well, I suppose it's... unique."

"That does rather describe him," Cori smiled a bit at that.

"I mean..." Mistoffelees faltered. "He's not that bad right?"

"What do you mean by 'that bad'?"

The shorter shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. "In general? Doing favors for him?"

"No, he's not. His favors usually don't' turn out so well, but he grows tolerable."

"Grows tolerable is good," he said and sighed. "Eventually he has to stop commenting on my lack of curves right?"

"...One can hope."

"Alright," he said finally.

"Well, I suppose that call could have gone worse."

"I could have actually been female you mean?"

"I meant the call from Miss Smith, but yes."

"Right, yes. Because she still has to do the show?"

"Right, and she didn't fire me on the spot."

"That's always useful," he replied. "Do... is there anything I can get you?"

"No, I don't believe so. Thank you though."

"Certainly," the black tom said and retreated

Cori watched him go and then turned back to his work.

o.o.o.

Mistoffelees glanced around the bar. It was a Wednesday night and he was getting off early that night, but he was glad to see the bar so full of cats and the fact that the jukebox was still going.

Coricopat entered, holding the door for Macavity. Macavity grinned, entering the bar and Mistoffelees gaped at the pair in surprise. He half considered ducking behind the bar but... he wasn't actually doing anything wrong.

Cor scanned the room, arching a brow when he saw Mistoffelees. He motioned to a table, "Shall we, Mac?"

"Sure," he replied, slipping into a seat and glancing around. "Hey, isn't that your secretary over there?"

"I believe so."

Macavity blinked. "Huh. You know about this?"

"No, I didn't."

Griddlebone made her way over, "Hello, fellas, is there a particular drink I can get you?"

Macavity offered her a grin. "Whiskey, if you would my dear."

"Alright, one whiskey, and you?"

"A gin."

"Alright, I'll go get those," she slipped away to let Misto know.

Mistoffelees offered her a faint smile, having tracked where she was coming from. "Hey."

"Hey. One whiskey and one gin."

"Sure," he said, ducking down to get those and handing them over, glancing over at the table.

"Something the matter?"

"No," he said and shook his head. "Good luck with that table," he said, handing her the drinks.

She picked them up, "...Thank you?" The white queen made her way back through the barroom and set the drinks down on the table. "You fellows need anything else, flag me down."

"Course," Macavity said, raising his drink to her.

She arched an eyebrow but headed to check on some other customers.

Macavity got through the first drink with little issue, but it was about the third he started having problems. Cori considered cutting him off, but left it be.

Griddlebone came back again, glancing between them, "Is there anything else, fellas?"

"Have you ever been in a movie?" Macavity asked, tilting his head toward her.

"What?"

"Well, have you ever been offered fame and power and glory then?" he asked.

Her ears lay back at that, "Several times. Is there anything I can get you?"

"Sure, another whiskey. You ever take anycat up on those offers? I could make you a star darling."

"So could every other cat in this bar." She glanced at Cori who shook his head. Grids made her way back to the bar, "Another whiskey, cut it with water though."

Mistoffelees arched his brow and nodded, handing her the drink after a moment. "Here."

"Thank you." She returned to the table, setting the drink down in front of Macavity, "Your whiskey."

"You think about what I said at all?"

"I think you're exaggerating."

"Me?" he said, mock offended. "I don't exaggerate darling."

"I think you want the same thing every cat who comes in here and says that does. But, what would make you possibly think I'd want what you're offering?"

"Fame money and power?" he offered.

"Mhm, you said that. Why offer it? And how?"

"Don't you know me?" he asked. "I'm a famous film director! Also, I've imbued way too much alcohol and you're really pretty."

Her eyes narrowed and she slapped him, turning and walking away.

He blinked after her in surprise. "What was that for?" he called after the white queen.

"You seem a bright sort, I'm sure you'll figure it out." She turned to face him, paws on her hips.

"What? A compliment deserves a slap now?" he asked, actually sounding offended.

"That's not a compliment. That's a degradation."

"That you're pretty?"

"That that's what you base what sounds like a job offer on."

"Well, in my line of work that's... a big part of it actually. Can you sing?"

"And if I don't want the job?"

"Why wouldn't you?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Because I need to get back to work. Can I get you anything?"

"Another whiskey and a lead role?"

"A whiskey, coming up."

"Thanks honey," he said with a cheeky grin.

She frowned at him and then went back to the bar, "One last whiskey then I think I'm cutting him off."

Mistoffelees arched a brow. "Want me to water this one too? And did you just slap him?"

"Don't bother, I'm hoping he passes out with this one. And I may have."

Mistoffelees warily handed her the drink. "Well, don't let him get to you."

"I'll do my best. It's not like he's the first customer I've slapped."

"True," Mistoffelees said. "Just be extra careful around that one yeah?"

"I will," She returned to the table, setting the drink down.

"Hello there again beautiful," Macavity said with a still cheeky grin.

"Your drink."

"Thanks lovely."

"Back off."

Cori opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again.

"Why?" he asked in a sing song voice.

"Because you're an ass."

"I'm not that bad, and I certainly back up all my promises."

"You haven't made any promises."

"Get you fame fortune and respect?" Macavity slurred, as if he was reminding her.

"The first two and the last one don't go together," she replied.

"Doesn't it?" he asked, tilting his head. "I seem to have it all."

"...Right. I need to get back to work." She turned to go check on her other customers.

"You sure?" he called after her. "Come on honey!

She growled, stalking over to the bar, "Misto?"

"Yeah?" he asked, filling another order.

"Deal with him?"

Mistoffelees darted a glance over and winced. "I... Grids, I really, really like my day job."

"Misto, please?"

"He's my boss's best friend. My boss sitting right next to him."

"And if you don't deal with him I'm breaking a pitcher over his head."

Mistoffelees took a breath, shot her another look and finally walked over, looking awkwardly between the pair. "Erm..."

Cori glanced up, nodding slightly and rising, "I'll take him home."

"Thank you," he said softly, shoulder's relaxing slightly as Macavity staggered up.

"Maybe I drank too much," he declared.

"Just a bit. Let's get you home. I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Quaxo," Coricopat said with a nod to the smaller tom.

"Alright, have a good night," Mistoffelees murmured, perhaps a little too pleased with the implication he had a job.

"And you."

Mistoffelees nodded before slipping back toward the bar.

o.o.o.

Mistoffelees slide into the office the next morning, putting the kettle for tea on before setting down his bag. Coricopat arrived a couple of minutes later, going into his office and laying his briefcase down before coming back to stand at the doorway.

The smaller tom turned to glance over at him as he took the kettle off. "Good morning."

"Good morning." He considered the other cat for a moment, "Do you work there often?"

"Part time," he replied, frowning slightly at that.

"Do you ever sleep?"

"I..." Mistoffelees blinked. "Of course I do."

"...Good."

He went back to fiddling with the tea. "Is there a problem?" he asked finally.

"I don't believe so."

"Alright," he said softly and handed the other a cup. "Here's your tea."

"Thank you," he took the cup, considering for another moment. "I wanted to apologize for Mac...he's not usually that bad."

"No, he did seem worse than usual but... Grids can handle that I suppose. Sorry that I had to ask you to leave."

"No, I was about ready to drag him out by the ear. I'll talk to him later today."

"Alright. Thank you."

"Of course," he returned to his office to call Mac and propose lunch.

Watching him go the black cat sighed softly. At least he still had a job, again.

Macavity picked up the phone on the fourth ring. "What?"

"Hello, Mac."

"Oh, Cor. How you doing?"

"I'm doing pretty well. What do you say to lunch?"

"Sure," Macavity replied. "Usual place and all that?"

"Sounds good. I'll see you at noon?"

"Yeah," Macavity replied, hanging up.

Coricopat hung up, returning to work for a few hours.

At noon Macavity was waiting for him at the restaurant, already fiddling with the menu.

Coricopat came in and sat down across from him, picking up the menu out of pretense-he already knew what he'd be ordering.

"You know," Mac remarked. "At some point we might actually need to add some change into our dining habits."

"Why change a good thing?"

He snorted. "Good point."

"So, how are you today?"

"Doing alright, other than the pounding headache."

"That would be expected, considering how much you drank last night."

Macavity grinned. "Yeah, it might fit."

"Do you remember that conversation we had ages ago about what you aren't supposed to say to women?"

Macavity blinked. "Umm... yeah?"

"Do you remember what you did last night?"

"I recall she was pretty and that my cheek hurts..."

"Yeah, you offered her fame, power and glory."

"Well, as a director I could probably give her all that... she took it the wrong way again didn't she?"

"Yes. We've been over the fact that that particular offer-followed by the justification of her being pretty-sounds like you're angling for her to come work at a brothel or simply have a bit of fun in the backseat of your car."

Macavity winced slightly. "Right. So, either I need to remember to shut up or make it very clear I'm not running a brothel?"

"Or both?" Cor suggested, "At least she only hit you once."

"That's good..." he said and sighed. "I should go apologize..."

Cor arched an eyebrow, "Probably. Also, what did you manage to do to infuriate Miss Smith so much?"

He rolled his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I'd like to know what the specific damage control I'm running is."

"She protests my methods of directing," Macavity replied glibly.

"So does everyone else. What did you do?"

"May have informed her she was a lazy bint with no idea what work ethic meant?"

"Mac...The idea is to not cost me another client."

"Right," he said, somewhat sheepishly.

"Please do try not to?"

"I'll keep the request in mind," the red tabby replied.

"Thank you."

"Sure, Cor," he replied as the waiter stopped by for their orders. "It's not actually my goal in life to make yours harder."

Cori watched the waiter leave and nodded, "Yeah, I know. Sometimes feels like it, but I know."

"Alright, well as long as you usually know."

"How is the filming coming along?"

"It's going alright. A bit slow, especially when the diva decides to throw a fit, but for the most part well."

"Good to hear."

He nodded and leaned back. "How goes things with you then?"

"Other than the diva throwing a fit? They go well."

"Excellent," Macavity said with a nod. "Still nothing on that whole romance front?"

Cori blinked, "Like I have time."

"You work a 9 to five job. That gives you as much time as anycat else out there."

"Then no, nothing on the romance front."

"You're getting older, you know that right?"

"...What's your point?" Coricopat asked, voice distrustful.

"That eventually you're going to have to settle down if you're going to. Or you're going to be the old man alone."

"The second option sounds tempting considering the sort of women who show up in show business."

Macavity laughed at that and shook his head. "See? You're going bitter already."

"I've been bitter for years, Mac. This doesn't mean anything," the mottled tabby pointed out.

The red tabby rolled his eyes. "You're getting worse."

"So? Maybe I'm content in my bitterness."

Macavity rolled his eyes. "Sure you are."

"Alright, maybe not but I'm not inclined to go after every skirt I see either."

"It doesn't take every skirt," Macavity protested.

"Alright, every other skirt." The red tabby rolled his eyes again. "Well, either way. If I find someone who I feel like settling down with I'll consider it."

"Fair enough," Macavity said with a shrug.

"And you? How goes it on the romance front?"

He shrugged. "The trick is finding a gal that doesn't run out after throwing something at my head."

"That would be a trick, I suppose."

"A bit of one," Mac replied, though he was still grinning somewhat.

"Well, I wish you luck with that."

"Thanks," he said as the food arrived. "I'm sure it'll work out someday."

"I'm sure it will," he turned his attention to the food.

Mac nodded again, already paying more attention to the food in front of him than any talk of romance.

The rest of the meal passed with discussion of miscellaneous things. Cor glanced at the clock and paid for his meal, "I'd best get back to work."

"Yeah," Macavity said and leaned back. "Sounds about right. Have more actors I need to boss around."

"Alright, good luck on apologizing to that waitress."

"Thanks," Macavity replied, tipping the brim of his hat to the other tom before they both headed out.

This is really our slowest updating story, huh? Probably because it's our officially designated "fluff" verse. And when we say that about the McCarthy era, I wonder about what we put our characters through the rest of the time. Anyway, enjoy the new chapter, and thank you every one who's supported it! Feedback makes your authors squee like small children with candy.