Signing the card, Ronan sat back and sighed. Surely she wasn't stupid. If she believed anything he said, he was going to be very surprised. Waving his hand, the bunch of flowers was carried out of the room – for delivery to his unfortunate little Demeter – as the intercom chimed. "What is it?" He barked.
"Doctor Belinda Ast to see you, sir." His secretary responded, as calm and pleasant as ever. He could hear the quiet tap-tap-tap of her fingers on the computer keyboard and nodded.
"Send her in." He quieted his voice. Belinda Ast – another of his prime agents, formerly known simply as Bast – had gotten in contact with him a short time before and he was curious to see what kind of form she had taken on.
She had been a pretty feline – not unlike that dratted Jellicle Cassandra…her half-sister, he believed – and he had found her charming, witty and exceptionally intelligent…for a female feline. And now, she was a renowned doctor of some standing in the medical profession and yet, she had still sought him out.
Pushing his chair back into the shadows, he watched in interest as the door opened and Dr Ast stepped into the room, one graceful hand on her narrow hips.
She wasn't what he would call beautiful, but she had style and plenty of it. Clad in a two piece blue suit, her shining black hair was pinned up neatly, accentuating her high cheekbones and slightly slanted brown eyes. Peering owlishly out from behind her glasses, she smiled pleasantly at him.
"Macavity…cautious as ever, I see." She murmured, her voice low and smooth, her accent speaking measures of her expensive education and upbringing.
"Bast, my dear." Rising, he held out a hand to her, shaking her slim hand firmly. "How intellectual you look. How have you been finding your new form?"
Sitting down in the seat opposite him, she shrugged elegantly. "I can't complain." She laid her folder on her knee. "Although, I did happen to choose the body of a married woman, which is a bit of a disappointment. My husband is a bit old-fashioned. Very formal and traditional and very, very English. Stiff upper lip, but not much else, if you get my meaning."
"Well, we can't all pick well." He laughed richly. "You do know why I wanted to see you, do you not?"
Nodding, the deceptively delicate-looking oriental woman smiled. "I do remember why we all ended up in these unusual forms, you know, sir."
"Very good." Smirking chillingly, he stood up. "Come with me, my dear. I have a special lab arranged for you."
"Why thank you." She rose, reaching his shoulders, slipping her arm into his. "Working with you again will no doubt be fruitful, Macavity."
Gazing down at the delightful young doctor, McCafferty fought back a wicked grin, a mental image of her in his chambers – naked – rising before his eyes. "I'm sure it will, darlin'." He replied silkily, lifting one of her smooth hands and kissing it lightly. "I'm sure it will."
*
Sitting on the floor between Menke's knees, Demi leaned back against his stomach, his fingers easily twisting her long hair into braids, his hands sliding down and gently rubbing her tense neck.
"Why so tense?" He nuzzled her ear, his head rubbing fondly against hers. His breath was warm on her skin and she shivered. "Is anything wrong, sweetheart?"
Sighing, she squeezed his knees, her eyes half-closed. "I really dunno." She replied quietly, glancing up at the bunch of flowers that protruded from the bin out of the corner of her eye. "I think I'm just a bit tired, love."
"How tired?" His voice was barely a breath in her ear and she giggled weakly, turning her face to his.
"Not that tired, lover." She brushed her lips against his lightly, her eyes meeting his. "You don't have anything planned tomorrow, do you, Munk?"
Drawing her up into his arms, he kissed her deeply, purring against her lips. "What do you have in mind?" He spoke against her giggling lips.
"Well…" Pausing, she clambered up into his lap, her arms around her neck, she traced her fingers down his smooth-shaven cheeks, her eyes locked with his. "I was thinking about going to bed early…" Pausing, she shrugged. "Perhaps get a decent nights sleep."
"And you seem to be determined to disappoint me." He jutted out his lower jaw, pouting in annoyance. "Why can't you be a nice, obedient, quiet, sex-mad girl that always does as I ask?"
"You mean instead of a hyperactive, crazy, noisy, perpetually horny lunatic who always does anything you ask, but only if you get down on your knees and beg for it?"
"That's pretty much it." He agreed pleasantly, biting lightly on the tip of one of her fingers. "You're a meanie, that's what you are."
"Ain't I a bitch?" One golden eyebrow rose a fraction, her fingers journeyed down his neck to his loose shirt, slowly undoing the buttons, her eyes never leaving his. "And you love every minute, don't ya?"
"If you say so." Menke looped his arms around her waist, his gentle fingers teasingly pushing up the back of her shirt and tracing circles lightly on the bare skin at the base of her back.
His shirt dropped open as she arched her back against his aggravating hands with a desperate giggle. "Stop that!" She yelped, swatting at him, trying – unsuccessfully – to wriggle free from his grip.
"See." He squeezed her tighter, grinning triumphantly. "I can be just as annoying as you can! Ha!"
Glaring at him, she tried to stifle a giggle as she jerked out of his arms and flounced towards the stairs. "I don't care what you're going to do." She pouted back over her shoulder. "I'm going to bed. I WANT an early night."
Watching her make her way up the stairs, the way her hips enticingly rolled beckoned him and he grinned broadly and leapt to his feet, tossing his shirt on the floor in a heap, racing after her. "Wait for me, love! I want an early night too!"
"Why am I not surprised?" Waiting for him at the bedroom door, she shrieked as he swung her up in his strong arms and kissed her.
"Cos ye know me too well, lover." He replied throatily, nuzzling her cheek teasingly, kicking the door shut behind him.
*
Opening the door of the lab, Belinda allowed only Ronan to enter, leaving the rest of the agents impatiently waiting in the chilly corridor outside. This operation was strictly between only the master criminal and this doctor – his prime agent.
The lights were bright, the surfaces reflecting every one of the illuminations, dazzling. Hi-tech gadgetry was dominant, sparking, humming and glowing all around the large, underground chamber.
But McCafferty didn't care about the light or the technological wizardry. What he wanted to see was far more important and it sat – awaiting his inspection – on the smooth white work surface, looking a good deal smaller than he had expected.
"As you can see, we managed to make it look relatively small and harmless in appearance for delivery…" Placing her folder on the desk, she gestured at a slightly larger, sheet-covered heap. "That one will be easy enough to place, if you can successfully reach the vehicle."
"If I can reach the vehicle?" He echoed sceptically. "Do you doubt me, darlin'?"
"Of course not, sir." Lowering her face, her cheeks flushed. "I just meant…well…I'm sorry, sir. I assumed you would get someone else to do it…"
"Belinda, my darlin' darlin' girl…" He tilted her face up with one hand, his thumb smoothing her cheek. "You shouldn't doubt me, ye know. I'm very, very good with my hands, I guarantee."
"Yes sir…" Unable to meet his penetrating gaze, she tried to smile weakly, as one of his hands, traced up the back of her neck lightly, loosening the clip that held her ebony hair in place.
"You should leave your hair down." He remarked, running his finger through her silky-smooth, waist-length locks. "It makes you look so pretty, Belinda."
Yes…well…" Pulling away from him, she turned her attention back to the device on the work surface, shivering as his hands came to rest on her hips. "Of course…it's deadly…powerful…and very…very complex…" As his lips touched her neck, she wondered if she was actually talking about the device or the man who stood behind her.
As if he was reading her mind, Ronan pivoted her around to face him, her lab coat sliding down her body, his mouth descending on hers.
Part of her wanted to protest as he persuasively lifted her, seating her on the edge of the workbench, his expert lips and hands seducing her body, leaving her mind screaming in futile outrage.
"Why…why are you doing this?" She managed to mumble through the haze of pleasure, noticing in confusion that her clothes seemed to be disappearing at a rapid rate.
Wordlessly, he kissed her throat lightly, his fingers probing and teasing her until she wanted to scream his name, to beg for more.
"You sounded disappointed with your marriage…" He moved her shaking hands down to his belt and murmured. "I thought you might enjoy a bit of change, my sweet young darlin'…its up to you…you don't have to do any more for me or yourself…"
But she knew that wasn't the case. She didn't have a choice at all. Naturally, he wouldn't force himself on one of his best and most useful agents, but her body wanted him and wouldn't let her escape him. It was a no-win scenario.
Staring at him, she felt her resolve weakening. He was stunning, a savage, animal-magnetism aura around him that had been overwhelming when he was in feline form, but now…now, it had intensified one hundred fold. Irresistible. And sheer-sexuality.
"Forget my husband." A voice that sounded like hers spoke. Then she realised it came from her own lips, as she fumbled with his belt and he kissed her fiercely, his hands roaming her body.
In the chill of the lab, she felt the warmth radiating from his body, from his wandering hands and she sighed weakly, as he gently kissed the lobe of her ear, then whispered. "I wonder how far you would go to please me, darlin'…"
"What do you mean?" She nuzzled his neck hungrily, his wonderfully masculine scent – an overwhelming difference in contrast to her husband's musty stench – filling her nostrils.
"Just what I said, darlin'." He smiled a deceptively gentle smile as he ran his hands up her bare back teasingly. "Would you fight for me?" She nodded weakly as he kissed her again, in no position to fight him or her own treacherous body.
"Very good…" He pulled away, tracing a finger down her cheek so lightly he barely touched the soft skin, driving her mad with wanting his touch. "Would you scream for me?"
Nodding, she kissed, him, jerking her wedding ring off and hurling it with unnecessary violence across the lab. "You'll find that out soon, big man." She growled, biting down on his lip.
"One more question, then we will…fuse…to use a scientific term, my darlin'." She stared at him expectantly. "Would you kill for me?"
His seductive caress was driving her insane and she knew she wouldn't last unless she got what she knew he was promising…and to get that meant she had to be willing to cold-heartedly kill. If it meant gaining satisfaction here and now, she would have offered to assassinate the queen.
"YES! By Heaven, yes! I would kill for you!" Almost perversely, McCafferty noticed her cry of assent sounded much like a cry of sexual ecstasy and he knew he would be hearing it again, in a short time.
"Good girl." He purred, a sensual smile on his provocative lips, as he drew her body closer to his. "You won't regret this, my darlin'."
*
Lying lazily on the bed, Demi watched Menke pulling on his jeans and smiled, stretching her body up against the soft sheets, every curve of her body revealed by the sleek material.
"Any idea what time you'll get home, love?" She enquired, as Menke snatched a clean t-shirt and tugged it over his tousled hair.
"Well," He leaned down and rubbed his forehead against hers fondly. "I'm meeting up with Annie Lawson, so we'll probably go out for a drink, so I'll be back a little later than usual I think."
Sitting up, Demi pulled the sheet around her body, then reached up to kiss her husband. "Pass on my greetings." She murmured, tugging his unruly black and silver mane.
"Naturally, my little wildcat." He replied softly, kissing her lightly on the tip of her nose with a grin.
"Wildcat?" Tackling him, she pinned him flat on his back. Straddling his waist, her sheet clutched tightly around her, she glared down at him, her gold and black mane hanging around her face like silken curtains. "Who do you think you're calling a wildcat, buster?"
"Er…" Blinking sheepishly, Menke cleared his throat weakly, one of his hands slipping under her sheet and up her thigh. "Not you…course not you! I mean...you're so pretty and delicate and sweet and nice and gentle and angelic and pacifistic…"
"Nice to see you can admit it." She smiled sweetly down at him, biting her lip naughtily as he traced his finger lazily across her hip. Reluctantly pulling away from him, she gave him a lazy push off the bed with her foot, then watched him stumble to his feet with a grin and trot towards the door.
"I forgot to mention easily pleased!" He shouted as he ran out of the room, shooting down the banister at full speed as Demi gave a yell of annoyance and leapt out of the bed, giving chase.
"I'd have to be, to settle for you, furball!" She howled as the car raced out of the open garage, his mane streaming behind him like a comet as he poked his head the window and laughed.
Standing at the front door, she waved her fist at him as he sped down the drive and out of the front gate, his silver BMW gleaming in the afternoon light. He waved back cheekily at her, poking his tongue out wickedly.
Sighing, stifling a laugh, she turned back into the hall, as her Star Wars phone rang, the ominous Darth Vader tune booming from the lounge.
Her sheet tripping her, she snagged the phone, dropping onto the sofa with a breathless shriek.
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end of the line spoke in quiet, urgent terms. Rubbing her face, Demi frowned.
"I'll come over straight away." She replied, "Give me an hour."
*
Leaving Rina tucked up in her bed, under the weather with a bad bout of flu, Demi drove to the hospital to answer the call that she had received, puzzling over the identity of the patient who was asking for her.
Her range-rover was covered in mud, as usual and – even though she had a week's holiday – she still hadn't got around to hosing the dirt off yet. Such is the life of a vet, she grinned wryly, looking from her filthy car to the neat doctors' cars all lined up in perfect, gleaming rows in the car park.
Asking for directions, a young male nurse came and pleasantly offered to show her the way. Following the young man down the hall, she was lead into a room, in which a single figure sat upright in a neat bed.
"Thank you for coming." The woman spoke, her voice muffled by the bandages. "I have to talk to you about something extremely important…"
"Do I know you?" As the nurse departed, Demi frowned at the patient, trying to place the puffy blue eyes and long, golden hair. The woman must have been beautiful before she had ended up in here.
"I'm not sure, Demeter…"
"What…what did you just say?" Warily, Demi took the seat beside the bed, staring at the girl. "Who ARE you?"
Looking around warily, the woman mumbled weakly. "I'm Roxie…I am…was Macavity's lover." Gripping Demi's wrist, she stared at her desperately. "I have to warn you Dem...I don't want him to hurt you again."
"What do you mean?" Demi felt her spine turn to a column of solid ice and shivered involuntarily, narrowing her eyes. "Why would you want to warn me about him? What would it gain you?"
Raising her clouded blue eyes to Demi, Roxie blinked weakly, a silent tear running down her swollen cheek. "He did this to me." She muttered. "He hurt me and I don't want the same to happen to anyone…not even you."
Taking Roxie's trembling hand in her own, Demi nodded wordlessly, feeling a great swell of pity for Macavity's unfortunate lover.
"Can you tell me what he has planned?" She whispered, her golden eyes sympathetic.
Nodding, Roxie smiled bitterly. "I can try…he didn't trust me much, but I know what he wanted to do…"
*
Running up from the parking lot, Menke vaulted easily over the barrier, landing on one of the feet of the young woman that stood there. "Er…sorry." He grinned sheepishly. "If its not the world's greatest Munkuholic!"
"Nice to see you too, Menke." She grinned back at him. "Luckily for you, I can still feel my foot, so I won't sue you."
Slapping a hand over his heart, Menke clapped her on the shoulder fondly. "You have NO idea how relieved that makes me! I spent all my money on my new car!" Eyeing the suspiciously large folder she gripped in her hand, Menke raised an eyebrow at the young, Londoner. "Been drawing, have you?"
"Just a little." She patted the folder with a smile. "I did something…uh…special for you."
Looking from the folder to its owner, he scratched his head. "Its been a while since we've had the pleasure of your audience-ship, has it not, Miss Lawson? How long is it? One week?" He gasped. "Even two? That's just shocking, Miss Lawson! Just shocking, it is! I thought you were a true fan!"
Chuckling, she replied cheekily. "I had to go and check out a nice French show or two, for your information!"
"French? French?!?" Menke echoed in horror and disbelief. "You mean you betrayed me? Your favourite Munk? To go and see some French can-caning kitty cat?" As emphasis, he did a series of hi-kicks, taking a bow with a broad grin.
"NO!" She retorted indignantly. "Who says I went to see CATS while I was there?"
"You saw it though, didn't you?"
Blinking innocently, she shrugged helplessly. "I…well…maybe I did! I have every right to see different Munkustraps! So there, Mr Can-Can!"
"For goodness sake, Annie, please just act your age for once!" He wagged his finger at her severely. "Anyone would think you were suggesting I was a big kid…what a preposterous suggestion!"
"Perish the thought." Annie laughed.
Glancing around, he saw no other members of the cast and quirked a silvery eyebrow at her. "Care to sneak in for a coffee in the green room, m'dear?"
"Would I ever!" She hefted her folder up, a smile cracking her features. "It took you long enough to ask!"
"Cheeky madame!" He opened the door and ushered her in. "I don't know why I put up with you!"
*
Sitting back, Demi shook her head. "I don't think he'll do anything soon. That plan sounds like it could take a long time. Had he started on it when he…well…before he did…" She trailed off as Roxie shifted slightly.
"He was still just talking about it." Her voice was rasping. Weak. But she still had some strength. "I think you should notify the police. Get as much security set up as soon you can, because if he moves as fast as he used to, it could only take another week or two for him to get all the right links in all the right places."
Nodding, Demi ran a hand over her brow and sighed. "What I don't understand is why he wants to keep this feud going…he could be successful and all that crap, but he keeps coming after me and Munk."
"He's jealous." Roxie winced as she rubbed the skin around her IV needle. "He wants what you and Munk have always had and he could never find."
"He's taking it too far." She murmured. "This is getting beyond an obsession. I just want some peace to live happily…just for once…not looking over my shoulder every five seconds for an idiotic homicidal maniac."
"Not insane." Roxie gasped, clutching at her ribs. "He may be crazy, but he's no idiot…not by a long shot…he's smarted than anyone gives him credit for. Hitler… Mussolini…all those dictators and people…they had nothing on this guy."
"I'm starting to realise this." Demi nodded weakly. Pushing herself, she asked. "Do you want anything from the shop? I need to get something to drink…"
"To be honest…" The blonde woman gave her a sheepish grin. "I'm dying for a packet of fags…I haven't had a smoke since I got brought in and I'm gaggin' for one…if its not too much trouble?"
"I'll check with the doctor." Winking, Demi grinned at the woman who was barely the same age as her. "If they give me the all clear, you can smoke like a chimney if you want."
"Sounds wonderful." Roxie replied dreamily, as Demi hurried towards the door, colliding with a petite little woman carrying a small, locked box. A box of medicines, she assumed.
"Sorry." She smiled at the small, oriental-looking nurse, ash she ran down the quiet corridors towards the little shop, pausing to see one of the doctors in the medical station, before hurtling onward.
*
Leading the way through the theatre, Menke swung open the door of the infamous green room with a flourish, restraining himself from shouting "Ta-da!" with a great deal of effort.
"Er…this is…nice." Annie looked around the room, then briefly at the natty carpet on the floor. "Hmm…is that thing as old as the theatre, Menke? Or did someone spill something or throw up on it?"
"I'm afraid that information is confidential." He grinned engagingly, handing her a mug of slightly sour coffee, his on liberally dosed with five spoonfuls of sugar, a trick learned from the experience of drinking the theatre's coffee straight once before.
Sitting down on one of the chairs, Annie put the coffee down – obviously having thought that the smell was warning enough – and promptly opened her Mary Poppins bag, drawing out a selection of her latest CATS-inspired art.
Noticing him staring at the growing pile, she grinned. "What can I say?" She shrugged expressively. "You inspired me."
"I can understand that one…and that…and that…" He pointed to three show-based ones. "But the others…erm…seem...well…not very CATS-esque."
"My imagination does a lot of work in this case." Was the laughing reply. "And I talked to Demi on the phone again."
"Ah!" Sitting down cross-legged on the floor next to her chair, he picked up a large framed portrait of a Munkustrap – that was undeniably him – sliding down a banister in boxer shorts, a gleeful grin on his face. "OH!"
"Demi asked for that one." Annie put in, watching his face take on a pleasant, reddish glow.
"What about this?" He pushed the first aside and, picking up another, tilted it this way and that, a baffled expression on his face. "Why the skirt?…and which way is it meant to go?"
"Oh!" Amid giggles, she explained. "I knew if I mentioned France, you would have to cancan…you did, so there…a Can-caning Munk piccie…just for the hell of it."
"Oh brother…" He rolled his eyes with a laugh. "You expect me to get my legs that high?" Visibly wincing, he crossed his legs even tighter. "I do like my voice the way it is. Several octaves higher is just not my style!"
Flicking through the others, he voiced his approval loudly, then took Annie up to the dressing rooms to show her his make-up charts and the applying of the familiar grey, white and black paint.
*
Returning from the small shop, Demi got back just as the little nurse was leaving and she stopped her.
"Excuse me, please…"
"What can I do for you?" The nurse blinked smoky grey eyes at her, her long black hair in a neat braid hanging down to her waist.
"I was wondering if you could tell me how my friend is doing?" Demi nodded towards into the room, where Roxie lay. "Is she going to be all right?"
The little nurse blinked owlishly at her, tutting. "I can't say, but she was very severely injured when she was brought in." Shrugging, she said. "She could still be in a fatal position, so don't expect too much."
Demi frowned, suspiciously glancing down at the nurse's name tag. Staff nurse B. Ast. Why did that name sound familiar? "Sorry I bothered you." She smiled disarmingly, stepping passed the nurse and into the room.
"Roxie, I got a pack of cigarettes for you…" There was no reply and she looked at her new ally's face, the colour draining from her own face.
Dropping the bag on the floor, she touched the blonde woman's face, a sick feeling hitting her. She pressed her fingers against the pale throat, but the glaze in the eyes told her everything she needed to know.
Hitting the alarm, one of the nurses appeared almost immediately, sending her out of the room, as a fleet more of nurses appeared out of nowhere, joined by doctors from the mobile crash unit.
Demi leaned against the wall outside, her eyes closed in disbelief. Roxie was fine moments but now, she was dead. Just like that. It was impossible. The Doctor had said she was healing nicely, so she shouldn't have dropped dead just like that.
That nurse…B. Ast had warned her that death was imminent. Demi frowned again, thinking. B.Ast…Bast. THAT name, she recognised. One of Macavity's female agents had been called Bast. It all made sense.
Roxie had been murdered. Or as the Macavity would see it – silenced. But not before she had warned Demi. She probably knew her actions would kill her and yet, she still made certain that Demi knew what was in store.
Running through the halls, Demi raced back to her car, racing home as fast as she dared, to the safety of her own house and family.
*
Brushing the last whiskers into place, Menke turned to Annie with a wide grin as there was a tap at the door.
Twitching his nose, he stood up. "Un minute." He leapt over pieces of furniture and bags to see who was there, but all that remained was a gaudily wrapped parcel with a tag reading 'Menke' on it.
Looking around, there was no one in sight, so he returned into the room, where Annie was scrutinising the various make-up charts and photographs he had decorated his mirror with.
Sitting down, he blinked at her, knowing she couldn't resist the cheeky look he always gave her in the audience. She tried to fight back a grin, but failed, as he loosened the tacky ribbons around the box, lifting the lid carefully.
Uttering an expletive, he stared at the device in confusion. Annie glanced at him, then at the box as he leapt to his feet. A doll dressed as Munkustrap lay in the box, a clock strapped to its arms, set at eleven o'clock, wires protruding here, there and everywhere.
The small placard the was tied to the figure's neck certainly didn't bode well and Menke thought it might be a safer idea to get away from the doll as fast as they could.
Grabbing the door handle, Menke spat another curse as there came a little beep and the digital display under the clock face started beeping down from ten towards one. Tugging the jammed door, he kicked the door in frustration.
*
Time always seems to slow down when your life's in danger, doesn't it? Dammit! Now, poor Annie's in danger because of me! Trapped in this bloody little room with no where to hide or go. And what makes it worse is that she's got me for company! The poor kid must be living in her worst nightmare here!
I don't understand…I mean how did it get here? Why? Who would do this? The little figure looked so innocent, but all those wires…it couldn't just be a clock…especially not when its got a little sign saying. "Have a nice die, Munkustrap."
For goodness sake! They didn't even give me a decent pun to die by! Now, THAT is the biggest insult of all! Why not something heroic like…oh, I don't know…anything but that piece of pathetic humour! If they're going to kill me, they certainly didn't want me to die laughing, did they?
The timer's getting close to zero and as a matter of fairness, I shield Annie's body with my own, in case it really is a bomb – it ticks, it looks like a bomb and it has a death threat…I'd says it a bomb – because it wasn't even for her.
You see, I don't like to share my CATS presents. If something like that is mine, no one else ever gets a turn to play with it. It's my bomb! Mine! Well…bomb, not mine really…but you get the idea…
3…2…1…