The Cast Part 1

by Fyrie

There's a new cast in the London Production of CATS...this is only the beginning. (Chapter 19 added - 23-09-02)

5. The Cast - Part 5 - Catch The Mouse

Her empty mug returned to the kitchen, the minuscule dancer returned to the activity she had been participating in. The machine was humming softly on the desk in front of the tall windows, cool sunlight stretching across the patterned pine.

Blue shuffled the handful of e-mail printouts together and glanced at the screen. Raymond had sent a ten-page e-mail of instructions for her and Tommy about what could and could not be said in front of Malcolm.

The petite dancer chuckled at some of the 'thou shalt' and 'thou shalt not' comments that were featured. Raymond certainly hadn't left any opening for error. "Hey, Tommy?" There was a yell from the bathroom. "What shall I do with Raymond's instruction manual?"

"Bin it!"

"What?"

"Chuck it!"

Blue gnawed her lip. "Um, are you sure that's a good idea?"

Tommy's head poked out of the bathroom, hair half-styled, make-up half-done. "Kid, I'm guessing that the big, sappy poof just wants to stop us from telling little Mal that he has a crush on him."

"Well, yeah."

"I'm telling Crow-face anyway, so what's the point of keeping the manual?"

"Tom, you can't tell Mal! Ray doesn't want him to know!"

Tommy grinned broadly. "That, my dear, is the point. I want them to stop making cow's eyes over each other and get down to the rampant snogging, before we have to resort to locking them in a room with no clothes on."

"Er…kinda like you and Andy did to me?"

"Precisely!" The older dancer grinned. "Now, little sister, I have to go and make myself beautiful. Finish what you're doing and be ready in five!"

"Yes, mum." Blue stuck her tongue out as Tommy regressed into the bathroom. Sitting down at the computer, she leaned back in her swivel seat and stared at the screen thoughtfully for several minutes.

Flicking the mouse to the favourites list, she was surprised to see a folder titled "Lady Lawson" and clicked on it, curious. Another list appeared, this one headed by the title "A Loonies Convention Spot".

Blue raised an eyebrow. What on earth…?

Clicking on the link, it opened to some kind of Cats-orientated forum. Scanning down the list of names, she smothered a giggle. People gave themselves cat names? How cute! And what was this?

A link was pasted quickly and Blue shrieked with laughter at the sight of a fan in an attempt at make-up and a home made costume, which was recognisable as Rumpleteaser. Returning to the forum, she looked at a few more messages and quickly became aware that someone who was a cast member was posting there.

Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she frowned. Should she give them the thrill of having a 'new' Cast member on the forum? No question…

"Hi there," She spoke out loud, grinning at the letters, "I'm Blue and I work at the New London Theatre. A anonymous Swedish Munkuholic…" She paused, tapping her lip with a smooth, perfectly false nail, "Who has a smashing site suggested that London people should drop in some time…well, here I am…"

Frowning again, she rubbed her neck. Should say pretend to be friends with herself? Or was that getting a ridiculous? "Ridiculous." She grinned, deleting back to the 'Theatre'. "My whole life's story in one word."

Pondering for a minute, she started typing crazily and finally sat back with a satisfied grin on her face and read out loud.

"Hi there. I'm Blue and I work at the New London Theatre. I room with net-nut, Tommy, and have to fight her for the computer, but when I did finally catch the mouse (So to speak), I discovered the link to this place. If this is her territory, I'm delighted to say I'm invading it permanently and I have every right to!"

Glancing down at the list of names she had scribbled she gnawed on her lower lip thoughtfully. "Who am I? Who? Who? Who?"

Leaning on the desk, she tapped one-fingered 'Jet-Cet' and giggled softly. It was weird enough and was just as weirdly appropriate, considering her usual hyperactivity levels. With her index finger, she steered the cursor to the enter button and clicked.

"Kid! You ready to go?" Blue glanced over her shoulder at the black-haired dancer standing beside the open front door. Perfect eyebrows rose questioningly and received a bright grin in response. Tommy groaned. "Why, oh, why did I introduce you to the Internet?"

Blue logged off, grabbing her jacket as the computer wound down. "Coming!"

***

"Where's Ray?" Looking around the warm-up room, Malcolm gnawed on his lower lip, anxiety shining in his pale blue eyes. Tommy looked down at him in surprise. "Tom? Have you seen Ray about?"

"He didn't tell you?"

Nervous eyes looked up. "Tell me what?"

"He's on holiday back to America for two weeks." The young dancer stared at her, clearly bemused and startled by the revelation. "Didn't he tell you about going to his baby sister's graduation ceremony?"

A hurt look crossed Malcolm's thin face. "He mentioned it, but he didn't say that he was going to be going to it." Groping in his pockets, the actor-dancer dug out a crushed packet of cigarettes. "Scuse me."

Tommy watched, as the small dancer pushed through the doors of the warm-up area. He collided with Antoine and Jonny who were entering, both of them looking after the black- and red-haired dancer in surprise.

"What's up with Mal?" Jonny was the first to ask.

Antoine nodded. "He looked like he was going to cry, like he did that day he accidentally jabbed himself in the eye with his eye liner."

"Oh God…" Tommy gestured for them to continue with the warm-ups, hurrying in the direction that Malcolm had just departed in. She pushed through the doors and spotted Malcolm standing at one of the windows, staring out at the street. "Mal, you okay?"

"I can't believe he didn't tell me he was going." He muttered morosely, staring out through the murky glass.

Tommy wrapped her arms around the young Goth. "Hon," She said, her cheek pressing against his red- and black-streaked hair. "He's got your phone number, right?" Malcolm nodded. "I bet he'll call you as soon as he can."

"But he didn't tell me he was going." Malcolm repeated stubbornly. "I thought we were friends and he didn't tell me."

Tommy pursed her lips, straightening up. "I'm sure he had his reasons for not telling." She said, turning her friend around to face her. "What difference would it have made if he had told you?" Malcolm shrugged. "See."

"It woulda been nice to say bye to him."

"Maybe that's what was the problem."

He stared at her in confusion. "You what?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed it."

"Uh…what?"

"Hon, Raymond has a crush on you." Blue eyes grew huge and blinked several times in clear bafflement. "You hadn't noticed?" Those same eyes remained huge as Malcolm shook his head. "How slow are you, Mal?"

Malcolm ran a hand through his hair. "Apparently very." He gave her a sheepish look. "Are you sure, Tom?"

"The way he looks at you?" Tommy flashed a broad grin at him, then her expression sobered somewhat. "Hon, I'm betting he didn't tell you he was going cos he couldn't face saying bye to you face-to-face."

"Seriously?"

"One hundred percent." She glanced back at the door. "Now, are we going to get in there and warm up, or what?"

"I really think that I prefer what, but if you insist…" Smiling faintly up at her, he accepted a hug, then allowed his long-time friend to steer him back through the doors and into the group warm-up that was already under way.

***

Lying on his back on the black leather sofa, Malcolm's right arm was resting over his eyes, his feet propped on the arm of the couch. A cigarette - unlit - dangled from the fingers of his left hand, which was resting on his bare chest.

His scruffy duster was carelessly hanging over the back of one of the chairs at the two-person table. The television was on in the corner of the small living room, the sound muted so the heavy rock sounding from his hi-fi was clearly audible. Deafeningly so.

It was nearly five hours since Tommy's revelation that one of his best friends was in another country and had not bothered to inform him of that little fact before he left. He was certain his neighbours were probably knocking and yelling to shut up, but he didn't care.

A faint smile curled his thin lips upwards. It was time for heavy, brain-splitting music, too many cigarettes and a few too many glasses of an alcoholic drink with a Scottish name he couldn't pronounce.

The half-empty bottle sitting on the low, round coffee table beside the half-full ashtray spoke measures of how well his evening had been going.

A ringing stirred him out of the numb boredom and he half-heartedly raised his arm from his bloodshot eyes.

"Sod off!" The hoarse shout was directed at the front door.

It was seven rings later that he became aware that it was the telephone ringing as opposed to the front door bell and he twisted to look at the coffee table beside him. His neon phone was lit up a dazzling green.

Malcolm groaned. "Just what I bloody need." He mumbled, rolling heavily onto his side and almost slipping right over into the gap between the table and sofa. A mumbled curse escaped him, his knee cracking off the edge of the table.

Rubbing his eyes as he steered himself upright, the young Goth deposited his cigarette on the table and groped for the receiver of the phone. Pushing his hair back from his face, he spat an obscene curse down the line at his late caller.

"Nice to hear you too, hon." A laughing voice spoke.

This time Malcolm did drop off the edge of the sofa, coming to rest with his elbows on the table. His hand groped for the remotes for the hi-fi and T.V., both of them skittering out of his reach. "R-Ray?"

"You betcha, sweet thing." There was a long pause, punctuated by a deep chuckle when Malcolm started swearing rudely at the two remotes for not working. "Hon, you know you got the worst taste in music I ever heard."

"Sod off, you big nancy! At least I don't like Abba and cheesy crap like that." Malcolm finally realised he had been trying to use the wrong remotes and knocked out the power to both the music and television.

"That, hun," Raymond chastised, amused. "Is quality music."

"And pink is a colour that should be worn by every poof in the nation?"

"Do you see us complaining, sweetie?" Both laughed slightly. "Have a good day?"

Malcolm ran a hand over his face. "Crud, Ray. I was so worried about you." He was startled to realise his voice was shaking. "Why didn't you tell me you were buggering off to your sister's graduation?"

"Cos I knew that you woulda wanted to tag along, Crow-boy." There was an audible waver in the black dancer's voice as well. "Couldn't have you ruinin' that lily white complexion of yours, could we, baby?"

"I am not lily-white, poof!"

"Hon, I've seen snow that ain't as white as you."

Malcolm smothered a grin. "That might be the case, my dear fellow," He mimicked the black man's deep, but strangely effeminate voice to perfection. "But I wouldn't have wanted to follow your cute little ass anywhere."

"You think my ass is cute, hon?"

"Did I…er…say that?" Malcolm felt his cheeks colouring and couldn't help grinning.

"You did, hun."

"Uh…"

"If it helps, hon, yours ain't so bad, either."

Malcolm suddenly remembered what Tommy had said. "Um…really?"

"What? No four letter words that my momma would wanna wash your mouth out for?"

One came to mind, but he hastily pushed it aside. "Never mind that, Ray." He mumbled quickly. "How are the family?"

"And do ya really wanna know, hon?" There was a shrewd pause, then Raymond silkily inquired. "Or are you just lyin' there, playin' with your nipple-ring and wonderin' when you can make me do all the talkin'?"

The young dancer sheepishly slipped the small, silvery ring from his fingertip, letting it fall back into place on his nipple. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He replied coolly, surprised that the brash dancer knew his gestures so well.

"Hon, you were too doin' that." He could visualise Raymond's broad grin. "You always do when you you're talkin' to someone and you ain't got too many layers of shirts between it and your skin."

Turning to lie back down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, Malcolm smiled. "You know, you watch me too much, Ray."

"I only watch if I like what I see, cutie."

"I don't do cute, Raymond."

Raymond's deep chuckle crackled down the line. "Keep tellin' yourself that, but remember that I'm the lucky ass who shares the dressin' room wit' you and sees that cutie patootie without all those black things you wear so much."

"I like black!"

"Oh really?" There was a husky note in the American's voice that Malcolm had never noticed before.

"Yeah, really."

"But y'all paints your lily face even whiter than it is and then add those stripes that make you look like a cute lil zebra, huh?"

"Oh, go bonk a monk."

"Sorry, cutie, those cossacks don't do nothin' for me."

Malcolm sniggered. "I think you mean cassocks. Cossacks are Russians."

"They are? Oh…right…well, Russians and monks. They ain't my type."

"And what is your type?"

"O positive." Malcolm muffled a snort of laughter. "So, my adorable lil white boy-wit'-stripes-on-his-cutie-face, still wantin' me to tell ya?"

The Brit blinked at the ceiling in confusion. "Uh, what?"

"Still want me to fill y'all in on my mad family?"

"If it'll keep me awake, you bet." Malcolm heard the black dancer's rumbling laugh. "So spill, Ray. I'm already falling asleep here."

"Unconscious more like."

"Well, that too. You better tell me something really interesting to keep me talking."

There was a pause of about two seconds, then Raymond launched into a speech. "Well, y'all know my Aunt Terasha? Well, she went to this health spa place, and buddy, oo-ey! Did that girlfriend need all the help she could get! I'm tellin' you, man, she has got an ass that would hide the whole damn cast if she wanted it to, but anyways, I was sayin' that she went to this spa to lose some of that…"

Malcolm replaced his arm over his eyes, grinning. Now, he remembered just why he liked talking to Raymond so much. It gave him the chance to do what he much preferred in a conversation: stay silent and listen.

***

"So you're our online geek, huh?" Georgina's grin was visible down the phone line. "I can't believe you're such a nerd, Blue!"

Blue pulled a face. "I'm not a nerd!"

"You're the one who hasn't stopped talking about all the cool web sites you've found for the last twenty minutes." The red-haired dancer said between fitful giggles. "Now tell me that doesn't make you a geek."

"If I was a proper Internet geek, I wouldn't be so excited about sites when I'm just getting started!" Blue protested vehemently.

Georgina sniggered again. "Tell me you're not wearing your glasses and your pyjamas and you haven't been at the computer since you got up this morning. I might believe you." There was a lingering pause, as the blue-haired dancer looked down at her boyfriend's overlong T-shirt and pushed her glasses up her nose. "Well?"

"Well…I'm not wearing PJ's."

Both girls dissolved into giggles. "What's so funny?" Andy inquired from the kitchen, leaning around the bar counter to peer at his girlfriend. "Huh…I wondered where my T-shirt had gone." Creeping up behind Blue, he snatched the phone. "Georgie, never stay here, girl! You go for a shower and the residents nick your clothes!"

"Don't flatter yourself." The naked Tommy drifted passed in the direction of the bathroom, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "And what did I tell you about inviting strange men to spend the night, Blue? They always leave a mess on the couch."

Snatching the phone back, Blue shot a mock-glare in Tommy's direction. "Pay no attention to her." She grumbled, pushing Andy away with her foot. "He was watching a movie here for your information!" She added as a yell in the direction of the bathroom.

"Yah, right! Both Tommy and Georgina chorused. Andy, on his knees in front of her, smirked and ran a hand up her thigh.

"That's it." Blue turned away from Andy and tapped loudly on her keyboard. "I'm going now, George. I don't like you no more. You're mean and nasty to me!" Georgina chuckled loudly. "You don't believe me?"

"Not one bit." She could visualise Georgina's wide grin "See ya tomorrow, psycho."

The red head hung up and Blue tossed the phone back onto the desk. She launched herself into Andy's arms, thumping across the head with an over-stuffed pillow. "I'm…going…to… kill…you!"

"Not before tonight's show." He murmured, kissing her on the nose, easily wrestling the pillow out of her grip and bopping her on the head with it. "You can be as violently hyper as you want afterwards though."

"You wish." She purred, pulling his hair. Snatching up a piece of toast, she sat down to read the forum again.

Blue was easily one of the most regular visitors on the forum, with perpetual patience for people and their questions that drove her horny boyfriend to distraction. More often than not, he would be forced to carry her away from the computer. She was only surpassed by several of the Broadway cast members who seemed to practically live online.

"Will you hurry up?" Andy was tying his boots as she started typing a reply to a post about the London production. "You can type that after the show. We're gonna be late again. And you know what everyone will think."

Swivelling around in her spinning seat, she scooted it across the floor and draped her arms lazily around his neck. "Let them think." She whispered. "They'll never imagine just how right they are."

"You have a great way of thinking." He murmured silkily, rubbing his forehead against hers, "But we're still going to be late for the show and I need to straighten my mane up for you tonight." He pretended to give his mane a shake. "Norm's ankle is still playing up, so I'm in for Tugger for a week."

"Cocky git." She grinned, standing up. "I suppose we should go."

***

In position near the Orchestra entrance, Malcolm shook each foot in turn, loosening his ankles. On stage, he could see Kashka slinking towards the front of the stage and blew out a breath. The car headlights flashed over her and she hissed.

"Here we go." The small actor muttered, cricking his neck. Several figures were creeping smoothly onto the stage.

"Are you blind when you're born?" That was Robbie.

Kashka popped back into his line of sight and he edged forwards, towards the back row of the moving platform. "Can you see in the dark?"

"Dare you look at a King?" Antoine emerged on the pipe above him.

Malcolm bent close to the person in the last seat of the row. They were oblivious until he rubbed his wig against their hair. "Would you sit on his throne?" It could only be John.

"Can you say of your bite that it's worse than your bark?" Andy was on for Norman.

Bending over the seat in front of him, he stared squarely into the face of a startled teenage girl and smacked his lips. "Are you cock of the walk?"

"Holy shit!"

Everyone within ten feet of Mistoffelees heard the expletive escape him, as his head jerked up, eyes coming to rest on a huge figure standing – black and white – on top of the car trunk, one leg poised slightly in front of the other.

Malcolm could feel his face burning under the make-up, several audience members gawping at him. Skimbleshanks was trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin behind his warmer and Alonzo turned and flashed a lazy grin in his direction.

"But he's not meant to be back yet!" The young dancer mumbled, backing away and bumping squarely into Blue. She grinned at him, swinging into the steps along the aisle beside him. A swing was on as Etcetera, while she was playing Rumpleteaser.

Malcolm shot a glare at her, receiving a pout in response, before he ran up onto the stage. Blue followed, still grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

He and Raymond had been talking on the phone for hours every single night for the last two weeks since the dancer had headed home, but the American had said nothing about returning on this day, at this time for this show!

On stage, Raymond swung passed, receiving a sharp swat on the rear from Malcolm. He winked at the smaller dancer, wiggling his rump. Reluctantly, Malcolm couldn't help grinning at the huge American dancer.

Coming to a halt practically back-to-back for the Invitation, Malcolm rocked back on his heels and felt his back graze lightly against someone taller than him. Biting the inside of his lip, he cast a furtive glance over his shoulder and decided his legs had turned to jelly at the expression in his friend's dark eyes.

The taller man reached over and gave the young Goth's hand a squeeze, tingles of electricity shooting between them. Releasing each other's fingers, they scattered around the stage as Robbie began the introduction of the Gumbie Cat.

Alonzo was already settled on his knees at the oven-side of the stage, when Mistoffelees spun to his knees beside the other black and white. Feigning interest in Jennyanydots, Malcolm nudged Raymond's immense thigh with his knuckles.

He got no response.

He prodded a little harder, frowning.

Raymond yawned, stretching out on his belly, his back to his younger companion. His tail lolled on the stage close to Malcolm's knees.

Huffily, Malcolm slapped the Alonzo tail, clapping a hand to his mouth as the force lifted it, hard and fast. The hefty tail thumped Raymond on the top of his head and he jerked onto his knees, spinning and looking for his unseen assailant, rubbing his head with a hurt expression.

Malcolm edged forwards, cocking his head. Raymond gestured at his tail, then at his head and looked as if he were ready to burst into tears. Malcolm felt his heart jolt and suddenly wanted to hug the huge dancer.

Wagging a reprimanding finger at the front row, Mistoffelees rose on his knees to check Alonzo's topknot. Sticking his nose right into the bristly mass, he nuzzled the wig and felt Raymond's hands kneading his thigh.

Huffing a sneeze, Malcolm bobbed back down, only to realise what a precarious position he was in. His thighs were straddling one of Raymond's and that single muscular appendage of the American's was rubbing rather intimately against him.

Leaning forward and pretending to smooth Mistoffelees' shoulder fur, Raymond caught Malcolm's tail from beside his thigh and carefully positioned it over his crotch, a naughty gleam in his eyes.

The American turned away to watch the ongoing routine, glancing back over his shoulder with such a sultry look that it took Malcolm's already-absent breath even further away. The younger of the two whimpered audibly when Raymond leapt to his feet and raced off-stage to grab his beetle costume.

Scrambling to his feet, Mistoffelees ran off-stage with Jellylorum, Demeter and Bombalurina, the actor concentrating desperately on the least sexy thing his mind could come up with on the spur of the moment: tripe and liver.

Unfortunately, somehow, the mental image of Raymond up to his neck in it still made it seem frighteningly sexy. Mentally shoving Raymond out of the picture, Malcolm caught Tommy eyeing him with clear amusement, a smirk on her lips.

"Got someone on your mind?" She asked with exaggerated sweetness, as they headed for the door of the auditorium.

Flicking the finger at her, Malcolm scowled at the red cat, only receiving a more devilish grin from her. The thing he hated most was the fact that she, as always, was right.

Dancing onstage for the finale of 'The Gumbie Cat', the young dancer received a blinding grin from Alonzo and almost messed up his steps for the first time. Bombalurina sniggered and was given a generous kick up the bum, when Mistoffelees thought no one was looking.

***

Running off, after the Ball, Raymond was trotting towards the door when a hand latched onto his wrist and he was physically whipped around to find Malcolm standing right behind him. "Oh, hey, Ma..."

The taller dancer's words were cut off, when Malcolm pulled his face down and kissed him fiercely on the lips.

"Oh!" Antoine and Blue stopped short. "Sorry...er...guys?" Raymond's immense arms had wrapped around Malcolm's smaller, leaner body, his hands splayed on the black-clad dancer's rear, holding him tightly against his own body.

The smaller dancer's fingers pressing against Raymond's wiry wig, one arm around Raymond's neck, his palm spread on the black dancer's shoulder.

"Want me to kick 'em?" Blue inquired.

Several audience members were starting to peer around the edge of the seating barrier to see what the fuss was about, so Antoine hastily stepped into their line of sight, pulling the grinning Blue with him.

"Guys!" He hissed over his shoulder. "Get a friggin' room!"

Behind him, he heard a giggle from Raymond, then the squeak of the door and pattering footsteps, which signalled that it was safe to move without any audience members seeing Mistoffelees frenching Alonzo as if there was no tomorrow.

***

"What are you lurking out here for?" Tommy looked down at Malcolm, who was sitting on the stairs, twisting a cigarette between his fingers. "Didn't you notice that your favourite big old poof is back?"

Blue eyes rose to her. "I just kissed him, Tom." The little Goth mumbled.

"You what?"

"Um…" An unmistakable, but somewhat shy grin crossed Malcolm's lips. "I grabbed him and planted one on him."

"You're kidding!" The black-garbed dancer shook his head, looking back at the cigarette that was crumbling between his fingers. "Which begs the question, if you kissed him and he didn't knock you for six, why are you sitting out here?"

Withdrawing another cigarette out of his packet and lighting up, Malcolm inhaled a rapid drag and blew a plume of smoke. "I'm not used to this." He replied quietly. "I don't know how the relationship thing goes."

"Well, that's cos your parents are both insane hippies, who run around the country in a camper van and sing stupid songs by a campfire in the middle of Tesco's car park and don't bother telling you what's seen as normal." Coming to sit beside him, Tommy snatched the cigarette from his lips, taking a drag, then handed it back. "Here's the way things work now. You like someone. They like you back. You get together and make with the smoochies. Are we clear?"

"You think?"

"Hon, I know." Wrapping and arm around his shoulders, she gave him a squeeze. "You like the big poofter, don't you?" Malcolm nodded. "Well, go in there and tell him, so he doesn't think you're avoiding him."

Reluctantly, the young dancer got to his feet. "But what if I mess up?"

"You'll never know if you don't try, Mal." Tommy gave his rear a comforting tweak. "If you don't go and do what you want to do, I'll get the boys to drag you through there and do the asking for you."

"And knowing you, you would too." Letting her enter first, he spotted Raymond watching for him and drew a breath. "Okay…I'm going to do it."

Remaining by the door, Tommy watched as Malcolm made his way across the Raymond, staring down at his feet. Apparently he said the right thing, because he received a broad smile and hug from the huge dancer.

Sitting down on the arm of the American's seat, Malcolm glanced over at Tommy and gave her the thumb's up, before turning back to Raymond. The American gave the Goth's thigh a fond squeeze, both of them talking in low voices.

***

Laughing out loud, Blue's fingers started to dance on the keyboard, her various instant message windows blinking along the bottom of the screen. The current chat victim was giving her all manner of information she had never known about CATS.

Pushing her glasses up her nose, she shifted on the cushion on the seat. If there was one thing she adored, it was spending insane amounts of time online, finding out about fans of the show that was her favourite job.

If there was another thing she adored, he was currently in the bathroom, trying to wake himself up.

Clicking on the link that her chat-buddy had sent her, she couldn't help laughing at the bizarre picture that blinked up. Some kind of Mistoffelees peered up at her from beneath neat brows, looking like he was trying for the world to be a mean mother...

"Mal would love that guy." She remarked to herself, typing to demand who the guy was. The make-up style was definitely not of the London variety.

Behind her, she heard the bathroom door open and an exaggerated yawn from her boyfriend as he exited the small bathroom. "Whatcha up to, short stuff?"

Not turning, her fingers beating rapidly on the keys, she grinned. "I'm chatting with a guy in America somewhere." She replied, pausing to flick through the other conversations that she was having. Nothing interesting seemed to be happening.

"Oh?"

She nodded, quickly asking for the young man's web page address again. Clicking on the link, she opened the page. "Wait until you see this...it's SO cool!" The page loaded rapidly and she opened the character pages.

"Hmm..." She felt Andy move behind her. His chin came to rest on the top of her head and she could feel his wet hair dripping on her dressing-gown covered shoulders. "Hey! Where did he get a picture of me from?"

"No clue, big guy." Asking of the American, she continued to flip through various galleries and pictures. "He's got some really cool pictures from the Broadway cast as well and I think I have some pictures I could send him."

He nodded, his chin jogging her head up and down in unison. "And he's from America?"

"Yeah. He told me there's a lot of CATS fans out there." Moving the mouse towards the links page, she pointed and clicked. "Annie and Maria both have their pages up here." She tried not to shiver as his warm breath met with the drops of water that were running down her face from his hair. "Wanna see?"

"Okay." He exhaled a long breath, shifting his head briefly to her shoulder, his eyes fixed on the screen. The sites popped up in other windows and Blue searched for the art galleries and heard Andy's gasp of surprise as Maria's art came into plain sight. "Whoa..."

"That's what I thought." She grinned, eeping as he dropped his chin back on top of her head and stared fixedly at the screen. "Wanna see a cute Munk?" He made no response, so the Munkustrap who was clearly his predecessor was brought up. "Pretty, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Blue gnawed her lip for a long moment. "I was thinking..." She clicked to the commissions page and gestured to the prices. "It's Tommy's birthday soon and we could get a portrait done for her..."

Andy shifted and the scent of his aftershave washed over her, a very masculine scent. She shivered, tapping the keys quickly in response to a comment from the young American she was talking to. "Sounds good." He replied.

There was a long silence, broken only broken by the steady tap-tap-tap of her fingers.

Finally, she lifted her eyes to his chin. "Andy?"

"Hmm?"

"What's that smell?"

He sniffed. "Oh. That. Just the new Calvin Klein thing." He shifted to look down at her, chin still on her head. "You like it?"

"Uh...yeah..." She inhaled another deep breath of the scent and half-grinned, turning back to the keyboard. "It's...kinda distracting."

He chuckled huskily. "That so?"

Spinning her chair around to glare at him, she stopped short at the sight that greeted her, the pen gripped in one hand abruptly slipping from nerveless fingers. Laying his hands on the arms of her chair, he grinned down at her innocently.

Finding her voice, she cleared her throat, blinking back at him. "Uh...very distracting..." Her pale blue eyes moved from his face, down his smooth, toned, muscular body. His very naked and wet body.

"I couldn't find a towel." He purred softly, gazing at her from behind damp strands of long, dark hair.

"You...uh...you're dripping on the floor..."

He looked down, then back at her with a suggestion of an enigmatic smile. "So I am." He straightened up, raising both his hands to push his hair back from his face. Blue's already gaping jaw gaped that little bit more. "Don't you have a conversation to...finish...?"

"Uh..." Turning half away from him, glancing back, she managed to reply. "Yeah." Her eyes drifted from the screen, littering the message with typos, as her boyfriend leaned closer, his hands moving to rest where they had moments before, on the arms of the chair.

His face moved alongside hers as she tried to type. "So..." His voice was low in her ear, as she looked frantically for the keys she had been so familiar with moments earlier. "How long are you going to be?" His warm cheek brushed against hers, as he peered at the screen.

"Just finishing..."

"Sorry, Carb, gotta go." He read from the message box, chuckling softly in her ear. "A little something just...came up." Tutting in mock indignation, he touched his lips to her neck in a burning kiss. "A little something, love?"

"Stoppit..." She tried to protest loudly, but it came out as more of a whimper, the mouse skidding all over the screen as he moved up her neck.

"Nah..." He murmured huskily, catching her lips with his. One hand slid to his skull, pulling him down to her, fingers winding through his dark hair.

A whirring click sounded and they pulled away from each other, panting. "I have to turn it off now." Blue whispered, her hand lingering on his shoulder.

"Make sure that's all you do." He gave her a promising smile and pulled away, walking towards her bedroom.

Even from the back he looked gorgeous.

His hair hung between his shoulderblades, his shoulders broad and muscled. A perfect valley ran down the centre of his back, tapering between narrow hips above those perfectly round and neat buttocks. He glanced over his shoulder and winked at her,

Blinking after him, Blue smacked the off-key, threw her glasses on the desk and hurtled after him as fast as her little legs could carry her.