"Christmas gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect." ~ Oren Arnold

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Friday 21st December 2012: Respect

As Friday evening drew closer, the back servant entrance began to swarm with crowds of hopeful entertainers. It was in this mishap of confusion that the intruders snuck into, as they were shoved, elbowed and generally pushed around in the excitable crowd.

"Whatever... happened... to queuing!?" Haru demanded as she was elbowed to the side by a trio of cats carrying parasols and acrobatic balls. She ruefully rubbed at her arm, aware that if she were human that would have resulted in some bad bruising. As things stood, she was lucky to escape without a crack.

"There's a reason you have the saying 'like herding cats' Chicky. And you're looking at it."

"Nonetheless..." Baron stepped between Haru and the worst of the crowds, painfully aware of the ballerina's delicate state, "perhaps it would be a good idea to get ourselves signed in sooner rather than later." He nudged Haru towards Muta who, for obvious reasons, was having no problem carving out a path through the maze of felines. "Keep going towards the registration desk; I'll be back in a moment."

"Wait, what–?"

"Keep your fur on, Chicky; he'll be back. He's probably just thought of something."

"Well I wish he'd thought of it earlier." Haru edged towards Muta to avoid getting elbowed by another set of entertainers, this time a couple with one holding a collection of fish-themed throwing daggers. Baron had been right though; in the colourful, the bizarre and the just plain weird selection of the entertainers, they were barely spared a second glance. That was, at least, until they finally came to the front of the 'queue'.

A black and white tom, clearly bored out of his mind, motioned the previous collection of entertainers through the back door and gestured for the intruders to step forward. "Name, number, timing and act."

"What?"

The guard looked up from the pile of paper he was going through and irritably repeated his demand. "Name, number, timing and act."

"The name's Mr Mistoffelees. Or Misto, if you prefer." Baron appeared before the desk, a collar in hand which linked him to Toto. Haru tried not to stare, but it was difficult. "We number in eight, our performance should last half an hour and we are a circus group. Is that everything you need to know?"

The palace cat waved a feathered quill in Haru's direction. "And what about her?" he snarled. "She's not a cat – she's not even real. She's a toy."

"She's mine." He stood between Haru and the guard, an unfamiliar haughty expression dominating his features. "I bought her off a trader and she's one of my best attractions. So harm her and I'll be taking out your life's wages for loss of business," he bluntly threatened.

The guard raised an eyebrow, but the threat hadn't been entirely lost on him. "If she's so precious, why aren't you keeping a tighter hold on her? The doll could run off at any moment."

"Do you really think any of these toys are going to run off with him keeping watch?" Baron drawled. He motioned lazily to Muta who, under the circumstances, looked sufficiently intimidating. "Trust me, none of them are going to doing any funny business while my back is turned."

The feline sniffed. "Come to it, you smell funny too. Are you even a cat or just a toy?"

"You think years working with toys won't leave its impact?" Baron curled his lip. "You must be even dumber than you look. Now, are you going to let us in or not? I promise you the King will not be amused when he discovers that you've turned away none other than Mr Mistoffelees, the original conjuring cat!"

"Alright, alright!" The guard huffed and hastily marked their information down on the sheet. "Go on in. Third door on your left will lead you into the costume and prop room – get yourselves ready and don't cause a scene." As the party walked inside, Haru heard him mutter derisively, "Circus folk... Mad as a Cheshire, the lot of them..."

Once safely inside, Muta sighed and stretched his podgy arms out. "Well, that was simple."

"That was close," Haru amended. "I thought for sure he was going to call the rest of the guards out."

"But he didn't, Chicky, so don't go looking a gift horse in the mouth."

Corin, who had been quietly staying at the back, out of sight, murmured, "Nonetheless, we still have quite a way to go. We may be inside, but this ordeal isn't over yet."

"Party poopers, all of you..."

"Maybe so, but at least we have a plan," Baron said.

"We have a plan?"

"Since when?"

"Well, that was unexpected."

Baron ignored the onslaught of responses – not all of them sarcastic – and opened the prop and costume door open. "Well, what better way to get close to the King than to entertain for him? Come along; we have a performance to prepare for." Already he had picked out a hat, boots and cape. "After all..." He tied the last item on with an elaborate flourish. "The show must go on."

This started the rest into digging out costumes or props that would hide their identities, although Toto couldn't do much and Corin's eyes would always be too remarkable. Haru was found in the dress section, trying to pick out something that would cover her current dress; her ballerina outfit would always be too noticeable for the King not to realise who she was. Baron, now kitted out in an outfit that Haru could only compare to the old-fashioned musketeer movies, joined her in the search.

"Do you know what kind of dress you are looking for?"

"Something to hide the ballerina dress," Haru answered simply.

Baron brought out a large, gaudy, yellow dress that poofed out so far that it would certainly hide the tutu. "There's this." He looked to Haru and both burst out laughing. "Maybe not..."

"Maybe not," she readily agreed. "Oh, what about this?" She found a dress that would cover her overtly recognisable outfit, supplied with shoes and this time simple enough to avoid earning her immediate scorn. It was a dark blue that matched the inky colour of Baron's cape, with silver star patterning spiralling down the side and spilling onto the skirt. In fact, Haru concluded as she brought it up to the light, it was rather pretty.

"It looks your size. Try it on."

Sparing no thought for the ballerina dress that she was unable to remove, she pulled the fabric over her head, tugging the skirt over her original one. Glancing back to Baron, she asked, "You wouldn't mind doing the back up, would you? Only I can't reach from this angle."

"Sure."

She glanced over her other shoulder. "We almost look like a matching pair in these costumes."

Baron chuckled. "I'm sure that will only serve to help our circus personas. How is that?" He finished the last of the lacing. "Too tight?"

"No, it's fine." She frowned slightly, turning to face her companion. "You're still too recognisable. The King will realise it's you the moment you step into the hall. Wait – I have an idea." Motioning for him to wait, she disappeared into the walk-in wardrobe, sliding between the racks of dresses and reappearing a moment later with a small box of masks. "Pick one."

"You think of everything."

"If I thought of everything, I wouldn't be in this mess," she lightly reminded him. She picked at some feathered ones, righting out the wilting plumage. "Which one takes your fancy?"

Baron shuffled through until he brought out a matching pair of light blue masks, decorative spirals curling round the edges and eyes. "Well, you did say we look like a pair." He offered her the smaller of the two. "And you are just as much at risk of being recognised as I am."

She smiled and took the proffered item. "Thanks. Do you know what kind of performance we're going to put on?"

"That's simple. You're going to dance."

Haru wished she could pale. "Dance?"

"I've seen you dance. You're wonderful, Haru."

"I don't suffer from stage fright," she quickly assured. "But, it's just... you know... dancing for the King seems to be tempting fate. What if something goes wrong? What if our disguise is revealed?"

Baron sighed and placed both hands on her shoulders. "It'll go fine, Haru. Just dance and everyone will be too captivated by your beauty to pay any attention to who might be behind the masks. Trust me, Haru; you are our best performer."

"How do you plan to...?" She glanced around; the room was too crowded for her to ask the question frankly. Luckily it appeared Baron had a good idea what was plaguing her mind.

"Don't worry; I have it sorted out." He revealed a short blade hidden in the interior of his jacket, slim and subtle. "You and I will be dancing; this we can use to get close to the King and I will do the deed. But you will have no part in it."

"What have you told...?" She nodded gently towards the small figure of Corin, shadowed by the protective form of Muta.

"I've told him to wait for my signal."

"That signal will never come."

"And he won't realise until it's too late."

"You know there is so much that could go wrong, right?"

Baron grinned, although there was worry behind the emotion. "I am fully aware of that. Luckily my penchant for improvisation has often saved me from many such situations."

"Talking of your improvisational streak... where did you get Toto's collar from?"

"Bargained for it from one of the other acts. Because there would have been no way they'd let a creature like Toto in without some obvious form of restraint."

"Bargained? Bargained with what?" She frowned. "Baron, where's your hat?"

"Well, to gain something one has to give also."

"But... it's your hat..."

"It's just a hat."

Haru wanted to disagree – his had was so much more; a part of his image, a part of him – but couldn't quite bring herself to haul up the discussion. Things felt simple right now – surprisingly so considering their predicament. It was delicate, dangerous work they were undertaking, but they were working together. She didn't want to upset that balance.

It was several hours before the celebration started; about half an hour before the selected entertainers were ushered into a side room, awaiting to be called up to amuse their temperamental monarch. Various individuals were beginning to show signs of agitation – the throwing-knife feline was nervously turning the prop over in his paws, the felines with their parasols and balancing balls were practising standing atop them, and one feline with a small dog (although the canine was larger than the cat) was giving the other animal a quick pep talk.

"Why is everyone so nervous?" Haru whispered across to Baron. She was seated beside Baron and Muta – although the latter took up more than his fair share of seating so she was somewhat squashed between the two. "I mean, sure – he's the king and all that – but other than that, they should know what they're putting themselves up for..."

Muta gave a low chuckle.

Baron answered. "The King is a... difficult one to sufficiently amuse."

Haru glanced to Muta, then to Baron. When neither added anything, she looked back to Muta. "And... what exactly does that mean?"

"That means that he throws out the ones he don't like, Chicky." Muta chuckled again and this time with a recognisable morbid humour. "Out the window."

"Out–"

"But we are sure to be up to the task," Baron smoothly assured. He raised one unimpressed eyebrow Muta's way.

"What? Just telling her what to expect."

"It was not necessary."

"It's alright. I'm fine," Haru insisted. She now felt sicker than before, but luckily her porcelain form determined any hurling an impossibility. She leant against Baron. "How long until we get called up?"

"Not long now."

She closed her eyes, the phantom feeling of nerves creeping through her system. "What day is it today?"

"The... twenty-first, I believe. Why?"

Haru laughed. "The world's meant to end today. You know what that means?"

"That the ruddy author will never get this story finished?"

"What was that, Muta?"

"Nothing."

Haru laughed again, lightly and quietly. "It seems ridiculous, doesn't it? That we'd go through all of this and then the world just ended anyway... "

"It makes this seem pointless?" Baron asked.

"I guess...maybe? I don't think the world will end but, if we just imagined for a moment it did... then all this preparation and travelling would all be in vain... It would all be slightly ironic."

"Let's just imagine, for a moment, that the world was going to end today – does that make our efforts any less important?" Baron asked gently. "All our adventures and mishaps, all our bravery and wisdom learnt here... does that make all this worthless? Nothing lasts forever and, no matter what happens tonight, we would always die sooner or later. But if you spend your life thinking that death strips away your accomplishments, then you'll never do anything of note. So smile, and remember you've done your best. No one can ask for anything more."

"Alright!" A small tan cat, the appointed entertainment organiser (whether self-appointed or by royal decree, Haru guessed it didn't matter to him; he seemed like the sort of feline with even fewer marbles than the majority of the cat race) gestured excitably for attention. "The celebration's started, so you will all be going in! When I motion for you to step forward once one act is finished, you go up and strut your stuff! Alright?"

His enthusiasm didn't do much for the nervous gathering of entertainers. Most nodded, a few just hastily continued with their practice.

Another feline – this one bearing glasses and too-long sleeves that continuingly slipped over his paws – appeared around the curtain. "Natoru, are they all ready? The King is getting impatient."

"Yeah, they're all ready."

The bespectacled feline cast one calm expression over the disorganised mob of felines and accompanying acts. "Really?" Deciding nothing could be done to amend the nervous state of the entertainers, he sighed and motioned for them to head towards the partitioning curtain. "Stand by the side and don't attract attention until it's your turn. Quick, now!"

"Sheesh, what's got his tail in a knot?" Muta muttered. Toto cackled as loudly as he dared and none-too-gently shoved the fat cat forward.

The celebration was taking place in a large, round ballroom of sorts, the ceiling spiralling up into the centre and pale pillars standing to attention round the middle. The entertainers were ushered between two of the pillars and motioned to be silent. Directly across to them was the King, lounging in his throne while being waited on hand and foot. Haru edged behind Baron, suddenly no longer so sure of their disguises. They seemed so flimsy, so easily torn away for their task set.

Baron placed a reassuring arm around her shoulder, but spoke no words.

The tan cat – Natoru, Haru believed he was called – motioned for the first act to start. In this case, it was the parasol-bearing felines. All three of them rushed on and started into a frenzied balancing act, the music rushing alongside them in playful harmony. Despite any previous impression of the pushy cats, even Haru found herself smiling slightly.

The King, however, was not impressed.

"Not good enough! NEXT!"

One of the felines fell off the balancing ball, just landing on all fours and the three of them scurried off. Natoru motioned for a pale pink cat to take the stage – this appeared to be an impersonating feline of sorts, using markings on its fur to mimic a dog, then an elephant. Quite what else it planned to do next was a mystery, for it was at that point that the King gave the same barking conclusion as before and it quickly scampered off. From thereon in, the acts came and went at an ever faster pace – the sword-thrower only got through three daggers, the snake charmer didn't even have time to play a single note and the brick-breaker only had enough time to break one aforementioned brick. Although the latter might have been because he broke his paw after the first attempt.

All in all, though, by the time so many had come and gone, the rest of the entertainers were beginning to get nervous.

"I've heard he's temperamental, but this is insane," one of the cats whispered.

"How are we meant to impress him if we can't even perform fast enough?" another agreed.

"Whoever's next better not stink, GOT IT?"

Natoru motioned for the next set of entertainers to step forward, but the felines at the front only proceeded to edge back. Haru caught Baron's eye. "Now?"

He grinned. "Now."

He stepped smartly forward, his footsteps confident and assured as he approached the royal table. Haru followed, with slightly less assurance.

"You Majesty, I promise to entertain you. For, all the way from our warring opponents, I bring a gem unlike no other. I present to you Coppélia, our very own Snowdrop Dancer." He brought Haru round, a small, reassuring smile – much more gentle than the persona he had been trying so hard to sell to the palace cats – playing across his feline lips. "Just dance."

He stepped back, releasing her as the first few notes began to play in the background.

It was a song that was eerily close to the Nutcracker score. It was a gentle, traditional melody that jumped between restful waltzes and restless leaps, music that wouldn't need a routine – music that lead Haru through the movements with soothing ease. Letting the dancer in her take over, she spun into a dizzying routine, twirling and jumping and watching the room dance around her.

She slowed long enough to spot Baron standing patiently to the sidelines. It occurred to her that she always lost track of time while dancing; she had little clue as to how long she had been dancing for the King. But the music was still playing and there had been no outcry from the longhair royal and so she continued to dance. She steadied her pace, glancing back to Baron. He nodded.

They were ready.

She pirouetted towards the wooden figurine, slowing just long enough to offer a hand. In taking it, he was spun into the dance. The solo became a duet – and, for the briefest of moments, they allowed themselves to forget the dreadful task that lay before them.

"Coppélia, huh?"

"You liked the reference?"

"Yes, yes, you're very clever." She spun and the world twirled dizzily around her. She ended yet closer to Baron. "The Mistoffelees name was a nice touch too."

"You're a Cats fan?"

"Of the book and musical." As she twirled once again, she caught sight of the King. "How close will you need to be?"

"As close as possible."

"Understood." Haru began drifting their dance in the direction of the royal table. "You ready?"

"Yes. And, Haru?"

"What?"

As they neared the table, he leant closer, lowering his voice to hide their murmured discussion. "I know you have a blatant disregard for following instructions, but there is one thing you must promise me."

"What is it?"

He lowered his voice yet quieter; the music almost drowned out his whispered words. "When I do the deed, run."

"And leave you in the lurch? Never."

"You must!" he hissed. "Haru, the only reason I'm asking rather than ordering is because you never follow my orders. And this is the one thing you must do – for me. For yourself."

"When you do this–"

"I know what the consequences are. I'm prepared."

"So am I."

"No, Haru. No, you're not."

She set her face into a frown. "Shouldn't I be the one to make that decision?"

"I've had twenty years to think this over. Twenty years pinning but still continuing to lose my humanity. I will not insult your strength, but this is something beyond what you should be called to do. Please Haru, as your friend I ask you to do this for me. When the time comes, will you run?"

"You're not going to run, are you?"

"Someone has to take the blame."

She sighed and slowed the dance, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I see nothing I say will change your decision. So I promise to run if you promise one thing in return."

"What?"

She looked up. "If you have a chance to live, take it."

They stopped before the royal table, the music still soaring and flying in the background. Baron nodded. "Agreed."

Haru smiled sadly. "Let's do this."

They broke apart in a flurry of movement; Haru running towards the servants' exit and Baron whipping out the concealed weapon. Leaping over the table, he bared down upon the monarch; the plates and drinks were knocked off in the movement, the glasses shattering across the floor and the food scattering over it. Using his momentum, he drove towards the King.

Black arms caught round his raised hand, dragging him back. Across the room, Haru had been blocked by more police cats of the same and the rest of the party had been singled out. Haru twisted against her captor to see Baron as caught as her, the dagger kicked away and two guards pinning his arms behind his back as he was forced to kneel before the Cat King.

The King approached the figurine. In the background a clock struck twelve.

"Hello, Baron."

ooOoo

A/N: Yikes! A day late! I hope the action-stuff happening in this chapter will be enough to tide you over and I'll try and get today's chapter up... sometime soon. I don't know when because it's so far from getting written and all I know is that I will get it written... eh, soonish.

And, yes, I know I don't usually (if ever) break the fourth wall, but it was too tempting to resist today (yesterday). It deserved a reference at the very least.

Merry Christmas and God bless,

Cat.