AN: I can't thank everyone enough for the spectacular reviews the last chapter got! Thanks to new reviewers, too, like Cascaper (8 in a row yay!) and madicullen, and semi-new readers like Laocoons :) ... I'm forever grateful to everyone. Hopefully this chapter is up to par.
In addition, I haven't studied or analyzed the scenes in the movie or the performance enough to comment on all the little nuances, and at any rate if my depictions of the ball don't match those you've seen, well, I guess my excuse is um, it's fiction ) yay.

Disclaimer: I'm running out of clever ways to establish how very far I am from owning Cats.

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"The Rum Tum Tugger!" Mistoffelees said, grinning, as he bounded up next to him on the car hood.

"If it isn't the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees," Tugger completed the joke.

The Jellicle Ball was now less than forty-eight hours away, and Tugger had been dealing with the building excitement by exerting himself as little as possible. Mistoffelees had become just a little more energetic and friendly than usual, a testament to how giddy the event made everyone in the junkyard. The kitten also knew Tugger was forcing the relaxation upon himself, for he rarely slept in the sun with open eyes and a twitching tail.

"What's up?" the tom asked, reclining again against the windshield.

"So--this ball," Misto began.

Tugger smiled.

"What--I was just wondering, you know, what it is and all, I guess," the kitten asked. It was obviously a question he'd been looking to ask for some time. Tugger felt bad for having spent more time with the queens than Mistoffelees lately. But...not too bad, of course.

"The Jellicle Ball," the tom said, melodramatic as he was. "When cats are maddened by the midnight dance."

Tugger's eyes had gone wide and misty, and he stared mysteriously at the kitten, who only looked confused. "But I won't even know what to do!"

Tugger laughed. "You're new, you don't have to do anything."

"Yeah--well--what's the point of it, then?"

"The point is for Old Deuteronomy--you know him, right? You met him? The point is for Old Deuteronomy to pick one of us, one of the Jellicles living here...or I guess not living here, too...anyway, he chooses one Cat to go to the Heaviside Layer."

Mistoffelees cocked his head. He paused, waiting, maybe for Tugger to continue, before asking, "and...what's the Heaviside Layer?"

"All the mice you can eat."

"...What?"

Tugger laughed again, not unkindly. "It's, well, I suppose it's the afterlife. Or an afterlife. Or maybe just somewhere in between here and the afterlife--after all, the cat who's chosen to go can be reborn, and can come back, so maybe it's not the complete afterlife."

Mistoffelees didn't really follow, but was enjoying Tugger's markedly serious attitude. He was still smiling. He was honestly telling a story, not putting on a show. It was nice.

"So what's it like?"

"I don't think I can really help you with that one."

"Oh...right." Tugger had never been there. Misto mentally slapped himself on the forehead. "Okay, who does he pick? Or how does he pick?"

"Well, I don't really know, he knows everycat in the world it seems like, he probably already knows who he's gonna send. Usually it's someone old, or someone who's seen a lot of life, anyway. Legends say Gingivere, Dinah, Grimalkin--cats like that--were all picked at some point."

Mistoffelees blinked.

"You've never heard of any of them."

"No."

"You will," Tugger smiled. "So last year, Deuteronomy picked an old cat, Tailchaser, I didn't know him really, almost no one did, he'd been gone for a long time; and before that was Chessie, she wasn't old at all. Three years ago was really sad, Deuteronomy chose Tobermory, who--well--everyone just loved him. Even all the humans downtown."

Mistoffelees sat thinking about all the cats he didn't know. Then he asked, "What actually happens at the ball?"

"Well, some of us are introduced especially to everyone, usually with a song--I have one--and, let's see, Jennyanydots, Skimbleshanks, Bustopher Jones. Cats who might get chosen, or who just have a story to tell. Munkustrap is putting together a performance for Deuteronomy, something about Pollicles and the Rumpus Cat and whatnot. And you know about the Growltiger show." Mistoffelees nodded while Tugger thought for a moment. "I dunno. A ton of stuff happens. Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer will be here. One year we sang about Simpkin when he came, poor guy, the humans didn't understand him."

Mistoffelees nodded, a little flustered with all the new names. Tugger continued, "I mean, every year it's different, depending on who shows up and if it's a surprise and if anything happens--like in the middle of one year, Munkus chased off a huge owl and everyone started singing about him. He was only, like, three."

"Wow!" Mistoffelees was thoroughly impressed, as the image of a big white-feathered beast at least five times Munkustrap's size floated across his mind; he could see everyone else ducking for cover while the silver tabby took swipes at the enormous bird.

"He doesn't want us to sing about him every year, though," Tugger continued. "Dumbass," he added.

Mistoffelees laughed. That was okay, he was pretty excited now about the songs for Tugger and Bustopher Jones. He asked, "Who do you think will go this year? To the Heaviside Layer?"

Tugger sat up and looked at the sky, took a long time to think. "A lot of people think Gus has it in the bag," he finally said. "Asparagus, I mean--you know--the 'theatre cat'." He paused again, marvelling at how good a listener Misto was; Tumblebrutus would have run off by now, Bill Bailey would have tackled him by now, and the girls never actually paid attention to what he said... He appreciated the respect Mistoffelees gave him, which he felt was deserved. "So Gus, that would be nice. He's ancient. ...He'd deserve it."

"Will you go?" Mistoffelees asked.

"Not this year."

"But would you?"

"...If they asked me. Sure. Deuteronomy won't pick me, though, kid. Not for a long time, and not before my brothers and everything."

Brothers. Misto had suspected Munkustrap and Tugger were related, and Munkustrap talked like he already knew they were, or something. But brothers, like--"Who else is your brothers? I mean are your brothers..."

Tugger stopped for a moment and lookedd at Mistoffelees in surprise, then regained his composure. "Munkustrap and Alonzo, I thought you knew that."

"Alonzo too?!" Mistoffelees looked pleased. He liked Alonzo, even though he was a little to uptight for Tugger's taste. "Anyone else?"

Tugger swallowed. "Not--no--not ... here, no other brothers," he said lamely, then added, "or sisters, either."

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The ball began as planned, as far as Mr. Mistoffelees could tell. He suspected most of the adult cats were surprised that he sang an introduction, but when they'd come to the kittens and asked Victoria, she had clearly not wanted to sing. Dancing, that was fine; so Mistoffelees relieved her of the pressure and did the singing himself.

In retrospect, perhaps he should have at least warned Victoria.

He was all ready for a big thank you from Munkustrap, too, who looked ready to praise his skillful introducing, but instead went on about something like a gumbie cat (a phrase Mistoffelees was completely unfamiliar with). So he was pretty thoroughly embarrassed, but made up for it by telling himself he had at least spared Victoria the humiliation.

Mistoffelees participated as little as possible in all the tap-dancing and extravagant costume-wearing. Tugger startled him when he interrupted Munkus and Jennyanydots, but he wasn't overly surprised by the act. The tom was the center of attention for a good five minutes, which was fun--although Mistoffelees had never known his friend to eat grouse, and thought that kicking the soccer ball at him was pretty unnecessary on Tugger's part. For that, he interjected his opinion that the tom was incredibly boring, but it turned out that made for an easy rhyme, which of course he ran with.

Tumblebrutus played along, as did Pouncival and some other of Misto's friends, but the song was pretty--all over the place--well, Mistoffelees was just a lot more comfortable being a wallflower for the time being. Tugger turned around and winked at him at one point, which felt like participation enough.

The Rum Tum Tugger still had the kittens--the girls, anyway--and Plato seemed interested, too, come to think of it--in the palm of his hand. Or paw. And Bombalurina was overcome; she definitely put the little girls in their place. However, Tugger was on a roll, and he showed her up in front of everyone (caught up in the moment or just feeling vengeful, the tuxedo couldn't tell). Mistoffelees felt bad watching and, in a sense, egging them on, but he noticed that even the more pompous and strict of the adult cats sat and watched, just like him. Munkustrap was grinning until Demeter turned around and gave him a look.

The Rum Tum Tugger's interruption had been expected; on the contrary, Grizabella's interruption was a downright shock. And the former--well, he looked pissed, and didn't bother to hide it.

Mistoffelees observed, a little frightened, as Tugger gave the bedraggled queen his most menacing leer and stalked out of sight. As any curious kitten would do, he followed.

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He picked his way through a pile of trash bags. There; the Rum Tum Tugger, crouched on that milk-crate, with his back to Mistoffelees. Silently, the kitten slunk in a small circle, trying to get a look at Tugger's face. Or a look at whatever Tugger was looking at, because he appeared to be staring emptily at nothing. Without thinking, Mistoffelees stepped on a pop can, which crumpled noisily, and even scared himself. Tugger spun from his crouch, startled and suddenly alert, scrubbing his face with his paws. The tuxedo could only stare in guilty surprise. Tugger was shaking his head. His eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to see--I mean, I wanted to know if you were--I just--" Mistoffelees stammered.

Tugger's glare was cold as he pushed roughly past Mistoffelees and disappeared around a pile of cardboard boxes.

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AN/INDEX
For those who are interested, or for those who didn't notice, all the cats Tugger mentioned having gone to the Heaviside Layer and/or attending the ball do exist -- or at least as much as the Rum Tum Tugger exists, as they are all literary allusions (if you will). The following information is courtesy of wikipedia and I really have no background knowledge concerning most of the cats whose names I borrowed.

Gingivere: The wildcat appeared in Brian Jacques' Mossflower. He helped the good guys (hooray!).

Dinah: Alice's kitten (Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass).

Grimalkin: Translates as "gray demon". The cat comes from many stories: Baldwin's Beware the Cat (1570); the witches' cat in Shakespeare's Macbeth; Grimalkin's owner falls in love with her in Fielding's Tom Jones. There were apparently real Grimalkins, too. The name can now refer to any gray female cat.

Tailchaser: The main character of Tailchaser's Song by Tad Williams; his full name is Fritti Tailchaser and he lives in a world uncannily like the Jellicles' created by Williams. The plot of the novel revolves around Fritti Tailchaser's investigation of disappearances of his cat friends.

Chessie: Logo/Motto for the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway System (later the Chessie System Railroad). The cat was their logo and went with the slogan "sleep like a kitten and arrive fresh as a daisy on the C&O". (Was she related to Skimbleshanks...?)

Tobermory: The title character of a short-story satire by Saki. His owner teaches him to speak. (Plus I LOVE the name!)

Simpkin: From Beatrix Potter's The Tailor of Gloucester. Simpkin traps mice under teacups, then gets sent off to buy food and silk, and his owner frees the mice, and in the end the mice save the day, blah blah blah. (I was very excited to be able to use a cat from Beatrix Potter, so perhaps his version of events is different.)