Disclaimer: I own only Chic. Short and to da point. This chapter is mostly shifting POV's, but oddly, each shift is in the third person. That kinda contradicts the statement, but I don't care. I needed a "throwaway" chapter.

Oh, and a note to Elvinking: God, sorry if my Death of a Fanfic Writer was kinda like your TorD story. Sometimes a story sinks into my subconscious. I once wrote a story about a nuke going off and the survivors ban together and have to survive with the threat of another survivor/killer. I then realized that this was the nuclear version of Stephen King's "The Stand." So, I'm so sowwy….*sniff sniff*.

"What? Me fail English? That's unpossible!"

~Ralph Wiggim~ Simpsons

Chic was in the living room, alone, cleaning herself with her tongue.

Perfect.

Chic looked up at the sound of the roar, but did not stand up or even flinch as her fellow tigermate leapt into the living room and with a claw-retracted paw knocked Chic onto her side. She growled but Hobbes roared something fierce into her face. Chic stopped, but not in fear. That sexual curiosity was still in her face.

"Alright, listen up! I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I've decided I'm going to lay down the law here! I'm the tiger here, I am the highest position here! You can be my subordinate, but nothing more! You cannot shun me like that, throw me into the cold and replace me! Calvin may be fawning after you, but he will soon see the error of his ways! And then you will be denounced back to your lower status, and you will realize that I am the tiger here."

Chic smiled.

Hobbes roared again and bounded off. Chic watched him off, and then returned to her cleaning.

* ** *

Upon entering the room, one might think that Hobbes was chasing down some lunch. Maybe a villager or some environmentalist who got lost in the jungle. It looks about right, because he is on his back. His legs twitch in anticipation and seem to be almost running on a small level. He is licking his lips occasionally, and if one didn't know better, one might think that when Hobbes mumbling on his back, he was shouting to the villager.

However, one would be wrong.

Deep in Hobbes' mind, he was indeed running. There was no doubt there. However, he wasn't the one chasing, but rather he was being chased. Hobbes ran and rang with all of his might and yet he seemed to get nowhere upon the tie-dye ground. Behind him his tormentor was catching up. He couldn't see it for behind him was dark and shadowy, but he could hear it.

Suddenly, from the shadows popped Chic, except enlarged. She seemed to be at least fifty feet tall if his dream had real dimensions or systems of measurement. Or maybe Hobbes had just gotten smaller. But whatever it was, she was still gaining quickly.

This Chic seemed to be the same from the real world, Hobbes thought. That cold, sexy stare she gave Hobbes, the smug smile stained on her lips. This was Chic, he knew it.

Chic had caught up with Hobbes in frightening bounds. Hobbes stopped in his tracks and stared up into the face of the Chic.

She smiled and bent down so her enlarged nose was no more than two feet from Hobbes.

"Surrender. You cannot defeat me. I am Chic."

Hobbes opened his mouth and screamed and screamed and screamed.

Suddenly, she was gone. The floor was gone. Hobbes was hovering in dead space, it seemed. Nothing to harm him here. Nothing to-

"Calvin?"

There, fixated before him, was a familiar blonde-spiky-haired kid that he just loved and knew.

"Calvin?" He asked again in hope of an answer. He smiled at Hobbes.

"I'm sorry Hobbes. I have to go now. Chic and I are going to play."

"What?! What happened to 'Don't ever leave me, Hobbes'? Huh? What happened to our friendship? What happened to Calvin?"

Calvin was starting to fade quickly, growing transparent before Hobbes' eyes. Before he was completely gone and before Hobbes was to wake up with a gasp, Calvin uttered four words that chilled Hobbes' blood.

"That was before Chic."

* ** *

Downstairs, in a beam of light projected by a Friday winter day, Chic lay, fast asleep. Big cats don't purr, say the experts. The experts have never heard Chic.

She lay on her back, gathering the rays, making her melodic noises deep on her chest of her dream.

In her dream, she was plain and regular sexy-killer Chic. She was hunting in the forest, trying to find her prey.

Her prey scurried in the bushes before her. She pranced forward and roared. It was Calvin. Calvin faced and, instead of running, started to walk toward Chic.

Easy prey, she thought.

Suddenly, Calvin's father jumped in to rescue Calvin from the open hands of Chic. He had his Garand rifle with him, and was ready to blow Chic's head off. Except, on a second glance, Chic saw that it wasn't really Calvin's dad but Hobbes in his clothes. He raised the Garand, ready to defend Calvin.

Hobbes was greedy. He wanted Calvin all for himself, and all for the wrong reasons, friendship and the likes. Chic just had to get past his guard and Calvin would be all his. She smiled and mentally she struck Hobbes.

And then she purred some more.

* ** *

Not five feet from Chic, a historical marker was made. Calvin was actually inside on a Friday afternoon with a foot and a half of snow on the ground. He was sleeping hard, shifting in his seat, trying to allure some nightmare perhaps. He shouldn't even been in the living room napping. He was getting ready to go outside when he suddenly got the urge to sit down, and then lie down, and then close his eyes, and then not try to struggle as his eyelids grew heavy. Soon, he was asleep as Chic purred. He still had his snowsuit and boots on.

In his dream, Calvin was in his house, in the living room. A fire was blazing in the fireplace, seemed to be a little big though.

He looked up. Hobbes and Chic were there, on opposite sides of the room. They refused to look at each other.

"Hey guys!" He said and trotted between them, waiting for them to walk to him.

They didn't budge.

"Guys…I'm here now. Now we can all go sledding or have a snowball fight or something." Hobbes and Chic turned to face Calvin. Chic was smiling in that sexy way and Hobbes would not look him in the eye.

"What's going on?" Chic glanced at Hobbes, then back to Calvin. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Calvin, but it would appear that you have to choose between us. I'm sorry."

"What? Why can't I play with the both of you?"

Chic shrugged. "It just hast to be this way."

Calvin looked from Hobbes to Chic. "Okay, I think I've found a loophole." with the biggest Bambi eyes he could conjure, he looked up. " 'I choose dem both, pweeze?' There, how was that."

Chic smiled and Hobbes just stared at the floor.

"If only it worked. But it can't." Calvin frowned.

"Just pick Chic already. We know you will. I'm surprised you didn't run to her immediately."

"Hobbes?"

"Just go play with her. I'm the old tiger. I'm not new, and you might as well. That's all you've done for the past two days, play with her and ignore me."

"I was just trying to make her feel welcome. You could have joined if you wanted."

Hobbes brought his eyes up to meet Calvin's.

"Would it have mattered?"

Calvin felt hurt, betrayed. He had never meant to ignore Hobbes. He just wanted to make Chic feel welcome.

"When you wake up, Calvin, don't make the same mistake."

Calvin looked up at Hobbes, hurt, and then to Chic, who was looking somber. However, before he had turned to her, he would have sworn he had seen her smile in his side view.

Hobbes reached over and pinched Calvin's arm and suddenly-

* ** *

he was awake again.

Calvin panted heavily, and realized he was still on the couch.

"It was all a dream…it was all a dream…Hobbes is still my friend." But it was true, he had been betraying their friendship. Not deliberately, but still he had.

Calvin stood up and decided to go sledding to clear his head.

On his way out, he watched Chic lay on her back, twitching and purring. Before he would leave, he would swear he heard "I got you Calvin."