The phone lit up. A terrible version of 'Memory' warbled from it. A hand fumbled out from beneath some bed covers and claimed the mobile, bringing it to a sleepy-looking head. With one thumb, Andy received the call.
"Hmm?"
"Andy?"
Sitting up in his bed, his Jungle Book covers twisted until they hung half off the bed, Andy yawned and ran his fingers through his hair. He glanced at the clock sitting on the bedside table. Nine o'clock. That was early. "Yup? That you, shorty?"
"Who else would it be, calling you up at this time of the day, you bloody twit?!" The shrill annoyance in his girlfriend's voice made his brow wrinkle in puzzlement. "Where the hell are you? Why aren't you here?"
One green and one brown eye widened in sudden panic. Where was he meant to be? Did they have a date? Or a doctors appointment? Or a shopping spree? "Uh, Blue... will I be in trouble if I tell you I have no idea what you're talking about?"
"Well, I don't think the management are going to be too pleased about it." The voice on the other end of the phone replied snippily. "You're late already and several people are ready to kick your arse if you're not here within an hour."
"But there's no show 'til tonight." Despite his calm tone as he spoke, the brunette dancer was frantically rooting through his desk, trying to find his diary. Of course, he wrote down everything he had to do, so he wouldn't forget.
Unfortunately, he tended to forget just *where* he left that diary.
"Of course there's no show 'til tonight, dumbie." He could picture a half-smile creeping onto her lips. She knew how bad his memory was when it came to out-of-work hours. True, he could play a dozen Cats flawlessly, but give him a date and it went in one ear and out the other. "The diary is under your clothes on the chair in the corner."
He lunged for the chair and found - to his non-surprise - that she was right.
"You're meant to be in for rehearsals." She noted politely, the second he found the right page of the book and uttered an expletive or two. "Antoine wants to kick you from here to Dover and he's actually in a good mood today."
Holding his phone against his ear with his shoulder, he hauled on a pair of boxer shorts and raked around for his trousers. "You could have..."
"Reminded you? Look at your desk and mirror." He did so and found notes with the word 'REHEARSAL' scrawled in bold capitals. "Check your alarm clock." It was set for seven. He groaned, recalling hitting it with a pillow several hours earlier. "See how many messages are on your phone."
"But you didn't say it!" There was a yelp as Andy's foot made contact with the leg of his chair, his toe stubbed painfully.
Blue chuckled. "You don't remember any of our conversation on the phone last night?" Andy muttered a curse under his breath. "Try the bottom drawer." She suggested, then waited.
"How did you know I was looking for my socks?" The mattress of the bed squeaked, as he sat down to pull the socks on.
"You have a pattern of getting dressed, lover. I was timing you and it seemed about the time for socks." There was a muted laugh. "Anyway, you can't say I didn't tell you about today. You spent half of our conversation actually telling me what and who you were playing in the rehearsals."
"Uh...I...er..." Groping under his bed and snatching his dance bag, he sat up. "Would you say that 'I forgot' is a good excuse?"
"If you want to butter me up, you're going to have to do a lot better than that."
Snatching his jacket and hauling it on, he swung his bag onto his shoulder. "What about if I said you sounded so wonderful, I was enraptured and couldn't help daydreaming about having you snuggling up in my arms?"
"I'd say that was a little more like it. Your front door key is on the kitchen bench, next to the kettle. The back door key is on the living room table." There was a pause, as she waited for him to lock up the back and the bang of the front door as he tugged it shut.
"You know, Shorty, you know me far too well."
"If I really did, I would have phoned you at six am to give you a warning that we were in." He laughed as he turned the key in the lock. "Looks like I have to work on it a bit more, but give me time, big guy."
"You have all the time you need and you know it." Ignoring the blaring horns and traffic of late commuters, he dived across the road, using his favoured lemming technique of hurling himself in front of moving cars to guarantee they would stop moving and let him pass.
"I gotta go, Andy. Antoine's calling the rehearsal to session." There was a pause as she called to someone on the other end. "He says you better be in bloody good form or he'll show you what it is to suffer the wrath of Twang."
Andy chuckled. "Can't help thinking Khan sounds much better there. Tell him I'm always in bloody good form. I'm just delaying him the privilege of seeing it." Antoine's loud, irritated swearing carried above the sound of the other cast members and Andy flinched. "All right, see you soon, love."
"You too, big guy."
***
"I've got news, guys!"
In the middle of the rehearsal, the music had come to an abrupt stop. Already fuming, Antoine had swung around to see Cassie Maynard, the twenty-six year old Victoria, standing beside the CD player, a blinding grin on her face.
"What now?" The bleach-blond snapped.
The blonde haired girl bounced over to him and pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. "Sorry I'm late, Antoine. I was at the doctor's." She spun in a circle, hugging herself happily. "Rory and I...we're going to have a baby!"
"You're WHAT!?!"
Yanking the bottom of her T-shirt up, the dancer revealed the slight swell of her belly. "I'm five months gone already and I didn't even realise." It was no secret that she and her husband had been trying for a baby for nearly seven years and had only just given up the IVF treatment.
"Oh my God!" Raymond howled in delight, both hands at to his face. "Oh, sweetie! That's great news!" He bounded over to hug her, hauling her off his feet. "Hon, I won't be able to rub you all up now, what with you being a momma."
"I won't complain, Ray." She laughed, returning his hug.
"You're not joking, are you?" Antoine looked from the young woman's shining face to her slightly distended belly and back again. She shook her head, smiling broadly between hugs from her friends. "Cassie, congratulations."
"Thanks!" She squealed in surprise as Benjamin - Old Deuteronomy - bent and picked her up, hugging her. "Benji! You've got cold hands!"
Only the dance captain seemed aware of a problem rising from the happy occasion, his eyes roaming the swings that were gathering around the pregnant dancer, chattering happily and asking questions.
"Any idea when you'll need to go on maternity leave, Cass? And do you plan to come back?"
A silence fell in the moments following Antoine's quietly spoken words. Cassie tossed her hair back and straightened up.
"I don't know, Antoine." She replied quietly. "I'm hoping I can go as soon as I can. You know how many times I've been through this." She spread her hands on her stomach. "I don't want to risk this baby just to keep dancing for a few weeks."
During her IVF treatment, she had miscarried five times out of seven attempts prior to her arrival in Cats. Each time, the fetus had reached the three-month stage, but had never gone further. For it to be at five months was a huge leap forward.
The dance captain nodded and crossed the floor towards Cassie. She and Antoine had been friends for years and she could see the concern in his eyes, as he took her hands in his and looked her over. "You feeling okay?"
"Perfect." She nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Antoine gestured for the others to continue rehearsing. "Can we talk outside, Cass?" She nodded, letting him take her arm. The moment they stepped through the door, he pulled her into his arms ad hugged her fiercely. "Well done." He whispered.
"Thanks, Tone." She returned the hug. When they broke apart, both of them had tears in their eyes. "You're going to have to return my favour, you know. If this goes all the way, you're my first in line."
He nodded, brushing her gold hair back from her face. "As soon as we can get you out of here, you're officially on maternity leave." He pressed a kiss to her brow. "I'm not having you go through what happened last time."
"Its nothing like it was last time." She took his hand and placed it on her belly. "I'm not going to let this baby go without a fight. The doctor says he's healthy and that there's only the smallest chance of something going wrong."
"Comforting." The bleach blond muttered sourly. He met Cassie's grey eyes. "You're still having as much time off as we can give you, even if I have to fire you. I'm not letting you go through another still-birth because you refuse to stop working."
"There's no proof that my dancing had anything to do with it." She said softly, "The stress, maybe, but never the dancing."
"You think its relaxing here?" He couldn't help chuckling. "I'm ready to tear my hair out already and you know that takes a lot." He hugged her again tightly. "Go and see the management as soon as you can. Explain everything and tell them that I want you off as soon as possible." He gave her a wry smile. "You never know. They might listen."
"But we've just had a cast change...do you think they'll let me?"
"They better. If not, screw them." He pressed his hand on her smooth belly again. "I want to meet my god-son and I'm not about to let a bunch of suit-wearing gits dictate whether you lose him or not, because they're to greedy too let you go."
"And have you spoken to them like this?" Cassie gave him a watery smile.
Antoine snorted. "Do I look that stupid to...er...never mind." He gently touched his mouth to hers in a fond kiss. "Go and see them, Cass. I've got to get back to rehearsal. Someone has to try and keep some semblance of control." She gave him a skeptical look. "Why do you think I said 'try'?" He grinned weakly, before stepping back into the rehearsal room.
***
"Excuse me! Passing through!" His rucksack held high above his head, his ticket gripped in his fist, Andy wove his way through the crowds trying to reach the right tube platform. After fifteen minutes on a five-minute train journey, he was starting to see Antoine advancing on him with a very large meat cleaver and a homicidal look in his eye.
Using the handrail, he swung around people, clambering his way down the long escalator in a way that seemed practically suicidal to anything but a monkey.
Maneuvering under the arms of a mother trying to steer her pram off the step, he paused to lift it down for her, then darted towards the platform, uttering a loud and proficient curse as his train pulled away.
Grinning apologetically at an American tourist and her young children, he ran a hand through his hair and looked around. "Crappity crap!" He dodged along the bustling platform, trying to reach the sign that would tell him when the next train was.
As if on cue, a train rattled down the line, the doors hissing open. Racing to the fore of the platform, Andy threw himself into the carriage, grateful that there weren't too many people there to hear him calling the rail system a series of exceptionally rude names.
Glancing at his watch, he started bouncing on his toes.
It seemed like an eternity before the doors buzzed shut and the train started to move into the dark tunnels of the London underground.
Barely seconds had passed when the train slowed, in the middle of the tunnel.
"NO!" Andy howled in outrage.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." A voice crackled over the sound system. "We would like to apologise for this temporary delay, but we are experiencing technical difficulties on the Piccadilly line. We should continue on track in several minutes. We would like to thank you for your patience in this matter."
"Patience? PATIENCE!?" Andy yelled at the speaker in the side of the carriage. "You gits! You're doing this on purpose!" Throwing his bag down, he pushed both hands through his hair, blowing out a breath. "Crud...Twang'll kill me...I'll totally miss the warm ups and..." A curious look crossed the dancer's face. "Unless..."
The other commuters - who had been trying unsuccessfully to ignore him - raised their papers and hid behind them, hoping that the strange, shouting madman might just be a figment of their overheated imaginations.
Unfortunately, the sound of someone ripping off items of clothing proved a little to intriguing for most of them to ignore.
Andy had removed his jacket, shoes and socks in rapid succession. Peeling his T-shirt off, he adjusted the waistband of his tracksuit bottoms, shaking his feet to loosen up his ankles before he started.
Baffled travelers watched as the young, half-naked man started a series of stretches and flexes, his torso's muscles rippling under the yellow-white glow of the dim lights along the roof of the carriage.
Spreading his feet length-ways along to aisle, Andy went through the pattern of warm-ups for stirring the muscles, then jogged from one end of the carriage to the other, several times. His long hair bobbed on his broad shoulders, a light sheen of sweat gleaming on his bare skin.
"Sorry about this." He said aloud, as he slid down into the splits in the centre aisle, giving several wincing businessmen rueful smiles. "I'm late for work." Leaning forward, he stretched to touch his foot, then rotated from his hips and touched the other foot.
One of the men pointedly crossed his legs. "Would you mind not doing...that." He gestured to the pose, a pained look on his face.
Going into the straddle splits, Andy looked down guiltily. "Oops! Forgot some guys find this painful to watch." He twisted again. "Don't you just hate the underground?" He addressed a young woman in a suit with a briefcase. She nodded mutely, gaping at his chest and his upper arms, as he straightened his arms, lifting his body of the ground and whipping one leg underneath him to bring it alongside the other.
Beneath them, the carriage shuddered back to life and the tracks squeaked as the train started on its ungainly way once again. Andy blew out of a sigh of relief, his body warmed up and honed, ready to join the rehearsals at work as soon as he got off the tube.
Arching his back, he back-flipped from the seated position, using his hands as leverage and landed neatly on his feet, hurrying back to his shoes and clothing.
Without bother about his socks of shirt, he hastily shoved on his shoes and jacket, thrusting his socks and T-shirt into the rucksack as the train came to a halt in the station. "Sorry about that again." He called, as he ran out of the open doors.
Unsurprisingly, there was no reply from the still-gaping passengers.
***
"Sorry...late...bad of me...nasty tube..." Panting, after running up the stairs from the tube stations and racing through the surprisingly busy streets near Covent Garden, Andy stumbled into the rehearsal room and found Antoine standing in front of him, arms folded sternly.
On the plus side, there was no meat cleaver.
The homicidal look, however, was looming.
"Get warmed up."
"Done."
Antoine did a double take. "Excuse me?"
"Warmed up...on tube...stuck in tunnel..." Gratefully accepting a tumbler of water from his girlfriend, Andy swallowed it down, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I got bored and warmed up."
The bleach-blonde dance captain suspiciously narrowed his eyes. "On the tube?" he repeated skeptically.
"Well, he does look sorta sweaty and half-dressed." Blue commented. "Who is he to be just now, Twang? It's Skimble, isn't it?"
"Oh goodie. The train cat." Andy groaned. "Someone up there likes using me as a big and freaky joke, I swear." Shaking his shoes off and depositing them against the wall with his jacket and rucksack, he pulled on his dance shoes. "Let's get on with it."
***
After the reassigning of some characters to several of the swings in the wake of some departures from the cast and the general reshuffle and tidy up, many of the swings and main understudies were experimenting with their new character make-ups before they had to get ready for the show.
In addition to already covering Admetus, Alonzo, Skimbleshanks and Tugger, Andy had found himself being gifted with several more roles, in case of dire emergencies. Two male swings had left at short notice and replacements had not been found in time to keep all the characters covered.
He had also had to deal with Tommy's bout of painful hysterics when she heard that he was dibbed as both a very tall Mungojerrie and Mistoffelees understudy, in case of most extreme desperation.
However, he was safe in the knowledge that he would never have to play them, unless pretty much every swing and understudy was off when Jonny or Malcolm were, which was never likely to happen.
Tommy had been proudly upgraded to first Grizabella understudy, but Helen had adamantly said that she would never, ever let the striking actress take her role. In addition to that arrogant pronouncement, she had stuck her tongue out and proceeded to wave her rear in Tommy's direction, calling something along the lines of "kiss it!".
Unfortunately for Helen, Tommy had done just that.
Blue and her flatmate were still laughing as they emerged out of the lift, just inside the stage door. Both of them had been ordered to collect junkfood from the MacDonald's around the corner, five minutes from the theatre.
"Afternoon ladies." Sitting back in his chair, his feet propped on the desk in front of him, Leo mock-saluted the pair as they approached to sign out. The half-Jamaican former dancer was one of their favourites at the stage door and he knew it. "How's it going?"
"Well, if you would shift your arse and come and see..." Tommy leaned over the desk and smiled provocatively at him. "You'd probably enjoy it."
"When I have a perfectly good telly in here?" The dark-skinned man grinned, flashing a perfect set of white teeth at her. "Nah. Sounds too much like hard work."
"A good telly?" Blue hopped up to lean over the desk and stared in the round mirror, trying to avoid peering through Leo's waist-length dreadlocks. "It looks very pink from here." She gave Leo a suspicious look. "Unless you're trying to tell us something...you...pink...are you that way inclined and about to break my ickle heart, Leo?"
Brown eyes twinkled. "Now, would I want to ruin the surprise for you, Blue?" He inquired. He leaned back in the seat and looked into the mail rack that was fastened to the wall. "You had a visitor earlier...or at least, he was looking for someone with a similar name."
"Oh? Did he leave a message?"
"Nah. He just took a look at the list and left." Reaching up to the 'B' section of the rack, he withdrew a handful of envelopes and flicked through them. "Probably just a fan or something like that." Picking a thick package from the pile of mail, Leo looked up at the older dancer. "You got a little something, Tom."
Catching it, the black-haired woman tilted it. "Oh! I know what this is!" She gave her roommate a pointed look and Blue rolled her eyes.
"I think that means I'm waiting outside so I don't see what she got me for my birthday." The smaller dancer remarked dryly. "See you later, Leo." He gave her a grin. "Sure you don't want some kind of junkfood?"
"I think I can live without it." He replied.
The door buzzed and she pushed it open, stepping out onto the pavement. The familiar smell of the nearby parking area and the scent that lingered from the nearby smoke ducts drew a smile from her as the door clicked shut behind her.
Like every other place she had been, the back of the New London Theatre had a familiar, comforting and unmistakable odour. It wasn't exactly a nice smell, but it was still something she could associate with the building.
Sheets of summer sunlight spread over the roof, casting a warming light down at the pathway behind the theatre. Grateful for her cut-off shorts and T-shirt, Blue spun in a giddy circle, the light rippling over her pale skin.
Approaching the fence that blocked the pavement from the road, she easily hopped up onto the four-inch-wide level and carefully balanced herself. Extending her arms, she started to walk along the narrow surface, occasionally using the wide pillars that stood at intervals along the fence to support herself.
Bouncing off the fence between the second last and last pillar, she landed lightly on her feet and came to rest with her back against the second last column, while she waited for Tommy to exit the building.
Her arms crossed, her fingertips drummed an impatient rhythm on her bare upper arms. She was oblivious to the figure standing several paces behind her until he spoke, quietly.
"Hello little Sara."
Blue jerked upright, rooted to the spot. Every instinct in her body told her to run, but her feet seemed to belong to someone else and they turned her slowly around to face the owner of the voice. "S-Sean?"
A calm smile turned up the familiar lips, but it didn't reach the pale blue eyes that gazed coldly from beneath sandy blond brows. "You gave your mum quite a scare, running off like that." He took a step towards her. "I've been looking all over for you and now look at the state of you when I find you..." He tutted in disgust. "Look at what you've done to yourself, little one."
One callused hand rose, touching her cropped hair with deceptiveness. She flinched, remember the last time his hand had touched her hair, her once prized, waist-length, white blonde mane. She remembered the agonising sensation of it tearing from her scalp, twined around his fingers.
"Leave me alone." She whispered, her mouth bone dry, mentally screaming for help. She felt her eyes prickling and drew a shaking breath, trying to convince her feet to back-pedal.
"What's this?" Mock-shock crossed his face, his sickeningly friendly-looking face. His thumb caught the tear that was edging from the corner of her eye. "You're a right mess, little one. Your hair...tattoos...piercings...painting yourself up like the little slag you always were..."
"No!"
His left hand caught her upper arm in a vice-like grip. "You're coming home, Sara. You're coming home so daddy-Sean can teach you how to be a good girl." He smiled again, his other hand stroking down her body. She whimpered and shied away, but her fear only made him chuckle cruelly.
Small feet kicked out, but lacked the strength to harm her assailant, but it distracted him enough for her to jerk around despite his hold on her and scream - backed with all the power of her vocal training. "TOMMY!"
"Got a new toy, eh?" All humour fled his expression. Before she could register it, the knuckles of his right hand had connected with her left cheekbone.
Her upper arm released, the blow spun her round sharply and she stumbled heavily against the railing, blood seeping from her lips. Scrambling away from him, she tripped in her fear and landed heavily on her rear on the ground. Tears streamed down her face, mascara and eyeliner striping her cheeks.
"Oh dear..." To anyone who happened to have seen the action between the cars, pillars and store drapes, it looked like the young girl had simply stumbled and fallen. Sean's huge frame bent and he caught her arms with his strong hands. "Did you fall down?" She whimpered again as the flesh of her arms started to bruise.
"Blue?" Beyond them, the door squeaked open. "Kid?"
Jerking loose and rolling onto her knees, she half-crawled, half-ran towards Tommy, her knees and hands scraped raw on the pavement. "Don't let him hurt me, Tommy." She pleaded, clinging to the older dancer desperately. "Please..."
"So this is your new toy, eh, Sara?" Sean eyed the dancer with a grin. "I never thought you'd be a little lezzer...I'm sure I could change your mind about that..."
Tommy's almond-shaped ebony eyes narrowed to slits. "Sean, I presume." Steering Blue behind her, her smile was chilling. "I have been wondering when I might run into you." She glanced down at her charge. Blue had sunk down against the wall and was twisting her fingers into her hair, blank eyes fixed on the pavement. "Sara told me you're the one who made her into a woman."
"And you want to find out what a real man is like?" Sean's boyish face split in a grin as the smirking Tommy sashayed towards him, tantalisingly large stretches of skin peeking through the slashes of her shirt and jeans.
She caught his chin in her hand, smiled. "No, Sean." Her other hand caught the front of his trousers, her talon-like nails disregarding the thin fabric. His eyes widened. "I want you to stay the hell away from my little girl."
"You bitch!" He panted.
"I guess I am." She smiled a little wider. "But I'm the bitch who could emasculate you in a second, so I wouldn't go pissing me off with a cocky attitude." She moved her face a little closer to his. "Just give me a reason to enjoy myself." She whispered.
Behind her, the door buzzed again and she heard a sharp curse from Andy. He and the others with him had apparently sprinted down the stairs the second that Leo had called and said they were needed.
"Need a hand, Tommy?" Antoine asked.
"Nah." She stared coldly at Sean. "Mine's not even half full at the moment." She glanced back over her shoulder. "But if you boys want to come and play..." She released Sean's crotch and he groaned, his hands coming protectively to his groin.
Antoine and Jordan were standing beside Blue and Andy, the young dancer-actor holding his stiff girlfriend against his chest. All three of them were half in their make-up and wigs, Andy's Victor wig askew.
"Gonna set all the poofter pussies on me now, eh?" Leaning heavily against the metal rail, Sean scowled across at Tommy, his eyes drifting down to the silent Blue. "Or is it a gang-bang, now, Sara?" He gave Andy a lavicious grin.
The dancer's mismatched eyes rose to the man. "I think you should shut up now."
"Don't you like her, mate? Hot as hell..." Sean drawled, ignoring the tightening of the dancer's thick, muscular shoulders. "Quite a savage little tiger, she is. Plenty of fight in her, if you know what I mean."
The next seconds passed in a blur.
In a blink, Sean was lying on his back on the ground, blood spraying from his burst nose. Both Antoine and Jordan were struggling to hold back the raging Andy from the spread-eagled man at his feet.
"Get him out of here." He spat, jerking away from his friends, his eyes dark with fury. His last words were directed at the bleeding man. "You come near her again and I swear I won't hesitate to kill you."
Stalking towards his small lover, he bent down and gently scooped her shaking body up in his arms. Carrying her back towards the stage door, he held her close to him and murmured soothingly to her.
After the couple departed and were safely on their way to the upper floors, Antoine and Jordan hauled Sean to his feet, dragging him to the door, where Tommy immediately ordered Leo to call the police.
Having seen the state his small friend was in, the doorman was happy to oblige.
***
Blood trickled steadily from her toes, dripping down to form a small, dark puddle on the smooth floor. Blue's fingertips were white, pressed hard against the underside of the make-up desk, eyes fixed on nothing.
"You okay in there, Shorty?" Kneeling down at her feet, Andy touched one of her thin hands, his brow tight with concern. She hadn't said anything, since Tommy had come up and told her that Sean had been arrested and would be charged if she testified.
A nod was the only response he received.
Placing a small bowl of warm water beside his knee, he started to dab the blood from her legs, talking softly to her. "She's right, you know." He held her small foot in his palm. "This is the only way you'll know it's all over."
The tips of her fingers got a little whiter, but she said nothing, staring through him.
"This might sting..." He gently dabbed some iodine on the scratches on her knees, wincing in sympathy as she drew a sharp breath between her teeth. Squeezing her thigh comfortingly, he knelt up, lifting one of her hands off the desk. "We only want to help, Blue. If we get rid of him, you'll be safe."
He carefully cleaned each of her grazed palms and the scored fingertips, touching a kiss to each hand before laying them on her knees. She had still not spoken by the time Raymond and Tony had arrived to don their make-up and costumes.
"Almost finished." He continued quietly, ignoring the curious looks from his two friends. He tilted her face up and - using water and cotton wool - tenderly sponged the mess of make-up from her elfin features.
A hideous dark bruise was blossoming on her delicate face from the blow that her stepfather had landed on her cheek. Blue's lover forced down a violent reaction, although the temptation to find Sean and break every bone in his body was tempting.
Only when he had finished wiping her face gently dry with a hand towel did she shudder, bowing her face.
"Blue?"
Her tear-filled blue eyes rose to his. "I'm scared, Andy." She whispered, fresh tears breaking from her eyes in a torrent. He nodded, engulfing her in a bear hug and pressing his lips against her forehead. "I-I just want it over."
"I know, Shorty." He whispered in response, holding her close as she let the tears fall. She clung to him, as if he were a lifeline. Rocking her gently, he stroked her back tenderly. "You know I love you, don't you?"
She nodded softly. "Thank you." She said, simply holding him.
***
"I can go on!"
"No, you can not." Tommy forcibly dragged her roommate to the wide mirror, gesturing to the bruises on her face and the cuts and scrapes all over her hands and knees. "You can barely even bend your knees, so how in the hell do you intend to crawl around or dance?" She turned over the girl's small hands. "And how would you do the acrobatics, when you'd probably end up bleeding all over the stage?"
Pulling away, Blue looked down at her hands with frustration. "I don't just wanna sit around and do nothing." She mumbled. "I'd rather be onstage, hiding, than sitting back here on my own, watching you." She touched the thick scabs on her palms. "I think I could still dance some of it. I don't mind my knees being sore."
"You could take Electra." Georgina suggested from the floor, where she was struggling to undo a tangled bootlace. "I know Cettie as well as you know Leccie and she's probably the most ignorable kitten of the bunch."
The blue-haired dancer threw herself at the ginger girl, who squealed in surprise. "Thank you, you little genius!"
"I hope you know what you're doing." Tommy sighed, returning to her make-up desk and retrieving her make-up brush.
Blue looked Georgina up and down. Georgina was only an inch or two taller than she was and they were about the same build, so costume wasn't a problem. "I'll do your make-up, if you do mine." The ginger-haired girl grabbed her pots of paint and grinned.
"As long as I actually look at Electra." Blue cautioned.
A wicked grin glittered in the other girl's eyes. "Of course."
***
Cuddled on the tire between Benjamin and Andy, Blue felt her boyfriend's hand stroking her back gently during the opening bars of Gus and smiled faintly up at him, raising her brows as he bent to chew on her ear.
Once again, Andy was on in Tony's role, thanks to an abundance of flu that was making its way through the cast. Robbie was off, filled to the gills on medication, so Tony had assumed the role of Munkustrap.
As Electra, Blue was happy to be the background kitten for once and since Admetus and Electra had a strange kind of friendship, it meant she could spend all the more time being hugged by her lover.
By the end of warm-ups, most of their little group of friends had heard about what had happened outside the stage door and all of them were doing everything they could to make sure the petite dancer was all right.
On Deuteronomy's opposite side, both Jenni and Georgina – as Rumpleteaser and Etcetera – were watching as Admetus and Electra cuddled closer together, the intimacy of the moment only broken when Admetus yanked both of Electra's ears.
Benjamin gently touched his hand to each of theirs, gathering them all up in his huge arms and hugging every one of the kittens warmly, but especially little Blue. The smallest member of the whole cast, she had been at the receiving end of hugs and kisses from everyone.
Even Kashka's icy façade had thawed briefly when she heard what had happened. A large, steaming pizza had found its way into Blue's dressing room, with a note that read 'Keep safe, K'.
It had immediately found its way into the stomachs of Andy, Raymond and Tommy.
Much to Blue's relief, though, none of the cast were tiptoeing around her, as if she would break at the slightest word. They were a little more protective, but none of them were treating her like she was mentally deficient.
Things were as insane as they had ever been, the hard evidence of which had been provided by Antoine running around backstage in his shorts with a metal bowl on his head, screaming that 'they' were after him.
When asked who they were, he had pointed at the roof, then stole some chopsticks from Norman and raced off, smacking the top of the bowl, howling for the alien scum to leave him alone.
The cast members who had witnessed it had gaped mutely after him, shaking their heads in disbelief.
Looking at him as he sat on the car, during Gus, though, he had never looked calmer or more dignified. Blue was certain that if she told any fan that Skimbleshanks was completely insane and did the craziest things she had ever seen, they would never have believed her.
Laying her head down on Benjamin's thigh and sighing contentedly as Andy continued to stroke her back, she had to admit she couldn't imagine being happier than with the crowd of lycra-clad lunatics seated on the same stage as her.