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)

18. The Cast - Part 18 - The Space Between

"Afternoon, all!"

"Andy!"

"You bloody idiot!"

"Where the hell have you been?"

The brunette froze in the doorway, his hand still raised in cheerful greeting. Tommy, Jordan and Rachel were all on their feet and glaring at him, all of them in make-up and wigless. "Uh…what did I do?" He asked uncomfortably.

"You left us with a maniac!" Tommy snapped.

"Maniac?"

"Your fiancée!" She replied, prowling towards him. "Tell me, were you born stupid, or are we just bloody unlucky?"

Taking a wary step back, Andy stared dubiously at her. "Tommy, I don't have a clue what you're talking about. The shrimp seemed fine when I spoke to her on the phone this morning."

"Seeming fine and being fine are two very different things." Rachel murmured, approaching with her husband. Jordan's face was actually showing some measure of anger, which was a first for the calm man.

"Uh…"

Tommy grabbed Andy's arm and propelled him into the room forcefully, slamming the door behind him. "The kid is pissed off about something, Andy. I dunno what you said to her, but since she called you, she has been spitting mad."

"Blue? Angry about something?"

"Angry about something YOU did, actually." Jordan corrected coolly.

"Eh? What did I do?"

"You didn't show up for the matinee, that's all." Tommy put in icily, steering him back into a seat and placing her hands on the arms of the chair, looming over him intimidatingly. "She asked you to come!"

"I still wasn't feeling too well."

"Andy, she specifically asked you to come in today." Rachel said. She was standing behind him and laid her hands on his shoulders. "How often does she actually ask you to come to work?"

"But I still wasn't feeling well." He repeated.

"Andy," Tommy caught his chin in her hand. "Blue asked you to come in. You said no. You didn't show, when she needed to see you." A grimace crossed her face. "For some reason, we had Kashka back on stage when she went on today. She scared the crap outta anyone who even tried to go near her."

"Blue? Scaring people?"

"She made Raymond cry, for Chrissake!"

Andy's jaw dropped. "How?" He demanded.

"When he tried to cheer her up and cuddle up beside her like he always does when you're not about, she actually slapped him and told him to piss off." Tommy replied, her expression darkening.

"Shorty slapped Ray?" Andy paled.

"Shorty did just that." Jordan nodded grimly. "I would have tried to talk to her, but when even Bomba won't go near our Deme, there's nothing that Coricopat can do about it."

"Menke said that she wouldn't even let him touch her, when they were doing the Munk and Dem snuggle moments." Rachel put in. "Whatever you did to upset her, Andy, you better undo it and get a bloody move on about it."

"But she sounded all right when I spoke to her this morning…"

"And what did she say to you?" Jordan, standing behind the seat, crossed his arms over his chest. "Was it something along the lines of 'Please come in today. I need to talk to you, Andy.'?"

"Um…"

"That would be a yes?" Rachel murmured.

"Actually, yeah…"

Tommy pinched the bridge of her nose, groaning. "Andy, you know the kid as well as I do now, and when she says please to you or me, you know that she's seriously needing something."

"But I wasn't feeling well." He protested weakly.

"Seriously?"

"Well, I almost passed out when I tried to stand up…"

"Is that all?"

Andy exhaled a long breath. "If I had even thought about it, I would have come in during the show. I honestly didn't think it would be anything serious. She knows I haven't been well all week…"

"Which should have dropped a hint or two that she was talking about something important when she asks you to drag your sick arse down here." Tommy shook her head. "Your flu remedies have filled your head with fluff, Andy."

"Think I should go and find her?"

"That would be a great big duh." Tommy replied.

Pushing past the Oriental-looking dancer, Andy straightened his jacket. "Wish me luck." He said, staring in the direction of Blue's dressing room. "Something tells me I'm going to need it."

***

"But she…" Burying his face in Malcolm's shoulder, his little lover sitting in his lap, Raymond whimpered. "She's never been mad at me before, hon. She's never hit me before…or told me to piss off…"

Malcolm ran a hand over his boyfriend's springy, dark hair. "I think she was just having a bad day, Ray." He said, his other hand lifting Raymond's chin and wiping the tears from his cheeks, the black and white make-up smudged. "It's not your fault."

"But hon…"

"Ray, shush. You didn't upset her." Kissing his boyfriend's brow, Malcolm drew the bigger dancer's head against his shoulder, his fingers massaging the taut expanse of Raymond's thick neck. "She's just having a bad day."

"It ain't me, then? I ain't pissin' everyone off?"

Malcolm couldn't help smiling slightly. "Ray, just cos people have bad days, it doesn't mean that they all have to be your fault."

"You're positive?"

"Have I ever been wrong before?"

Raymond chuckled softly. "Well, there was that time that you dumped me…"

"When I was convinced the doctors were about to murder me, by poking me with needles and giving me a bloody heart attack." Malcolm murmured against Raymond's temple. "I had good reason."

"Plus, you're a little ass." Raymond cuddled him closer.

"Your little ass, Ray." The smaller dancer replied with a small smile, his arms loosely around his lover's shoulders and neck, the silk-smooth skin rippling over the bulging muscles. "Only ever your ass."

"You better be." Raymond muttered sleepily. "I'd hate to have to be in a pissy mood with you."

"Ray, look at your finger."

"Which one?"

"Left hand, ring finger."

"It don't have a ring on it, hon."

Malcolm nodded. "Not yet, Ray, but tomorrow morning, or early afternoon, or whenever you drag your sorry bum out of my bed, you and I are going shopping and we're gonna see if we can find you a nice ring."

"Huh?"

"Well, we did get engaged when I was in hospital." Malcolm murmured.

Brown eyes stared up at him, bigger than usual. "You…you were serious?"

"Never more so." Blue eyes met brown. "Love you, Ray."

"Oh God…Hon…I love you too!" Wrapping his arms around Malcolm, the big American dancer pulled him down for a kiss, his tears starting afresh and for a whole different reason.

***

"Don't let her get me!"

Andy had barely stepped into the hall lined with dressing rooms when a large, sweaty, stripy figure slammed into him, knocking the wind out of him and clutching him until he thought every one of his ribs would break.

"M-Menke?" He managed to wheeze.

The fully costumed dancer nodded, then leapt behind Andy, steering the brunette forward forcefully. "You can go in front." He announced firmly. "She likes you more than she likes me."

"Huh?"

"Just make sure you warn me when she charges." Menke continued. "I want to have enough warning so I have a decent head start, when she's finished ripping your spleen out with her bare hands."

"What are…"

"And make sure that you keep her busy as long as possible, cos I'm just too young and too good-looking to die."

Slamming his hands against the walls on either side of him, Andy forced himself to a halt, his trainers squeaking on the floor as Menke continued to push against his back determinedly. "Menke, what the hell are you going on about?"

"And when she comes out, don't be scared…I'm sure she's not as dangerous as she looks." There was a pause. "Although, there is the chance that I might be horribly mistaken and she could come at you with a chainsaw…"

"MENKE!"

The costumed dancer paused. "Uh, yes?"

"What or who are you talking about?"

Menke gave him a stunned look. "Andy, your fiancée is in that dressing room." He pointed to the door ahead of them. "As far as we know, she's unarmed, but - like I said - there is a chance she snuck in some kind of weapon. My bets are on a chainsaw and if not that, a rocket launcher."

"Blue?!?"

"No, the psychopath who has taken her body." Menke replied. "Andy, whatever you did, you better sort it with the kid, before we have to get the men in white coats to come and take her away…or the police to arrest her for your bloody murder."

Andy swallowed hard. Having being told the same thing by everyone he had passed, he was starting to think things were a good deal more serious than he had assumed after Tommy's lecture.

"Okay. I'll…I'll talk to her."

"You do have a bullet proof vest?"

"She can't be that bad." Menke's expression spoke measures. "Okay, I'll be careful then, Menke."

"I don't give a crap either way." The costumed man replied. "I get to play Munk if you snuff it, or if she breaks both your legs." He squeezed Andy's shoulder. "Just make sure we get our sweet Dem back."

"Your generous concern for my wellbeing overwhelms me," Andy muttered.

"I thought it might." Menke grinned, hurriedly backing away down the hall as Andy laid his hand on the handle of the door. "Good luck, Andy. I think you're going to need it."

"Thanks." Andy replied grimly, opening the door.

***

"So he's gone in to see her?" Phil had just ushered his girlfriend up, into the dancer's relaxation area and had immediately found a whole group of very anxious-looking dancers sitting silently together.

"Apparently." Tommy replied, trying to look like she was engrossed in the book she was holding. The illusion would have been better served if the book had not been upside down.

Raymond had stopped crying, but his boyfriend was still cradled in his lap, his brown and white make-up somewhat smudged around his lips. "I just wanna know that the tiny person is okay." He mumbled.

"She'll be all right, when Andy's spoken with her." Rachel said softly. She was leaning against her husband, her head on his shoulder. The couple was wearing matching white vests and navy tracksuit bottoms.

"Ya think?" Tommy said. "You didn't have to deal with her since breakfast."

"Do you think she could stay mad at him for long?"

Tommy raised a brow. "Do you think she couldn't?" Her attention turned to Annie for a long moment. "And this better not get online anywhere."

Annie nodded. "It won't, I swear." She forced a smile. "Anyway, who would believe me if I told them Blue was a psychopath?"

"That's a valid point." Malcolm remarked, his hand moving lazily on Raymond's dark hair.

"As long as we don't have to explain the severely pummeled brunette body that has been discovered in her dressing room, I think we'll be fine." Jordan added, his arm around his wife's slim shoulders.

"Don't even say that." Tommy muttered. "Just…don't."

***

"I said to leave me the hell alone!"

Andy paused at the door, peering into the room. Blue was seated against the far wall, her bare knees pulled up to her T-shirt clad chest, her hands wound into her shock of electric blue hair.

"Shorty?"

Her twisting hands froze where they were. "So you decided to show up after all, did you?" Her voice was a monotone croak. "Well, you can just turn and walk back out. I don't need you here anymore."

Pushing the door quietly closed behind him, Andy took a step towards her. "Blue, love, I'm sorry."

"I said go away." She said.

"Blue, please."

"GO AWAY! Get out! Leave me alone!" She screamed at him. A small, hard, round object flew from one of her hands and hit him on the face. "Go away and take that with you!"

Looking down at the missile that had landed at his feet, after opening a cut on his cheek, Andy felt his heart wrench. He squatted down and picked up the engagement ring, placing it in his suddenly shaking right hand.

"Blue…"

"Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout…" She chanted in a shaking sob, her face invisible, concealed by her arms.

"Blue, no." Going down on his knees, he crawled the short distance to her side and touched one of her slender arms. She tried to pull away, rocking violently. "I can't leave you. Not like this."

"I don't need you now…I don't need you…you weren't here when I did…I don't need you anymore…" She scooted across the floor, away from him. "Go away. Leave me alone. Leave me alone."

"Blue…"

"Shut up!" Her head snapped up, tears pouring down her face. "Stop saying my name like you're sorry! Like you care! You don't know…you didn't come here…I needed you and you didn't…" She buried her head back in her arms, sobbing.

Looking at the ring in his hand, Andy felt tears stinging his eyes. "I am sorry, love. I didn't realise. I'm stupid and I didn't think that something would be wrong." He moved closer to her and caught her left hand. She tried to pull away, whimpering, but he slipped the ring back on her finger. "I want you to keep this. Even if you don't want me anymore, I want you to know that I still love you and I'm so sorry that I wasn't here for you."

"You promised, Andy…you promised you would always be here for me when I needed you…" Blue eyes stared at him, filled with so much pain and misery that he visibly flinched. "You promised…"

"I know, love. I know." He cupped her face gently in his hand. "I'm sorry. I truly am. It'll never happen again, I swear on everything. I…I just didn't think…I was so tired… I…God, I'm so sorry, love." He drew his hand away from her. "I don't even deserve to be near you. I love you so much and I still manage to be such an idiot and hurt you like this…"

The tiny dancer drew her left hand towards her and stared at the ring again, tears still splashing down her make-up smeared cheeks. Her eyes rose to the cut on his face and the blood it had left.

"Andy…" Before he could reply or even move, she was in his waiting arms, sobbing furiously against his chest, her whole delicate, little frame shaking with the violence of her sobs.

Holding her close to his body, uncaring of the tears and make-up smearing on his shirt, Andy rocked her, his fingers smoothing her hair and stroking her back gently, pressing kisses to her brow and temples as she continued to cry bitterly.

It seemed like an eternity before her sobs trailed off, her arms still around him.

"What did you need to see me for, Shorty?"

She didn't look at him, but motioned to her scruffy rucksack that was sitting beside them. "The front pocket." She whispered, her voice strained and raw from crying. "I put the envelope in there…"

Still holding her securely against his chest with his left arm, he reached over to the bag and withdrew a formal looking white envelope. The top had been torn open and he fumbled with his fingers to withdraw the sheets inside, shaking them open.

"Oh God…"

"I…I didn't know what to do…I wanted to tell you first…I didn't want to be on my own…I…I couldn't tell Tommy…" She was shivering again, clinging to him as if her were her anchor.

"Love, if I had had any idea that it had arrived…" Dropping the sheaf of papers, Andy gathered his fiancée up in his arms holding her as tightly as he dared. "Will you be okay…?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out and she shook her head. "I-I'm scared, Andy." She whispered several seconds later. "Wh-what if he gets away with it? What if they don't believe me? What if he comes for me again? What if he takes me away from you?"

"No one could do that, Shorty." Andy promised, more sincerely than he had ever promised anything in his life. "You're my fiancée now and by the time we get to those dates, you're going to be my wife."

"B-but the trial…it starts in two weeks…"

"Then we'll get married in one." He hugged her warmly and kissed her brow. "I can't let you go and stand trial without me beside you. How better can we show that you're mine and special than by having you being my mini-wifelet?"

"But…"

Andy smothered her protests with his fingertips, then caressed her cheek. "Even if we have to take the smallest Church in the whole bloody country, we're going to get hitched, complete with bridemaids and minions and everything."

"Really?"

He nodded with a smile. "I love you and its about time I let everyone else know and nothing says love better than you in a funny white frock, a man in a black dress with a white collar, the bride knocking the best man out with her bouquet, the bridesmaid getting laid by the father, who is married to the bride's aunt and people getting drunk and throwing up all over the garden."

"You haven't been to many weddings, have you?"

Andy grinned weakly. "You haven't met my family yet, Shorty. When you do, all that I have said will make perfect sense."

"One thing."

"Yeah?"

"We don't have a garden."

***

"Where's Joseph?" Leon's dark head jutted around the door.

"Uh?"

The common area had almost been deserted.

In one corner, Annie was cheerfully chatting with Malcolm and Raymond. Tommy had been called off to join Blue and Andy and everyone else had decided it was time to take advantage of the couple of hours between the shows.

Both of the dancers had turned at the sound of the doorman's voice, puzzled. They had heard him calling on the intercom a short while earlier, but had assumed that Joseph had replied.

Leon looked around. "I couldn't get him on the phone, so I thought he might be kicking about in here." He replied. There's a little kid down at stage door. She did a picture of Mistoffelees and she wants to give it to him."

"Try his dress…" Malcolm stopped short, as the blond American emerged from the dressing room he shared with Adam Lanai, the new Mungojerrie, and the unfortunate Nicky Johnson.

"Joseph! Am I glad I caught you!"

Joseph halted, his nose wrinkling. As usual, he was wearing a thick, padded jacket and a heavy woolen scarf, his hands enclosed in colourful gloves. "What is it this time?" He demanded with an unenthusiastic sigh.

"There's a little girl down at stage door. She's only six or so and she did a lovely picture for you."

The wrinkles on the American's perfect, freckled nose deepened. "Another fan with more of their crappy art?" He asked, a visible shudder passing through him. "That's it. I'm going out the front way."

"But she's just a little girl, Joseph!" Malcolm protested, kneeling up on the couch to stare at the other dancer in disbelief. "You can't disappoint a little kid!"

"I didn't ask to be as good as I am!" Joseph replied sharply. "I didn't ask for little kids to start doing fingerpaintings for me!" He snorted once more and stalked towards the door, slamming it firmly behind him.

Malcolm stared after him in disbelief. "That tight-arsed little bastard…He can't do that to a kid…" He slowly shook his head. An idea seemed to hit him and he leapt to his feet. "Leon," The doorman had been staring after the other dancer as well, shocked by his callousness. "Go down and tell the kid that Misto will be down in five minutes. He was just having a nap after doing his magic…"

"But Jo isn't…"

"Jo isn't about to do a thing." Malcolm replied over his shoulder, sprinting towards his dressing room. "Five minutes." He called. "Tell her five minutes!"

***

Gripping her mother's hand, Teresa shuffled her feet nervously. Colourful ribbons bobbed on the end of the braids that dangled all over her small head and she hoped that she looked pretty enough.

The nice man at the door had told her that Mister Mistoffelees would be down in a few minutes to see her and she hugged the picture she had done extra tightly, looking up at her mother.

"Do I look pretty, mummy?" She asked quietly.

"You always do, sweetie." Her mother patted her braided black hair fondly, making the little girl smile brightly. "Sh! Listen! Do you hear that?"

Footsteps were coming closer.

Teresa held her mother's dark brown hand more tightly and watched the corner that lead to the stairs. A curious black and white face peered around the corner and bright blue eyes found Teresa's face.

"Presto!" A black and white body pirouetted out and Mistoffelees bowed to the little girl, smiling. "I heard that you wanted to meet me."

Teresa stared at the cat. He was sparkly, just like he was when he danced! He looked like he had little diamonds all over his costume and his mane shimmered in the faded light of the stage door area.

"Go on, sweetie." Her mother prompted gently, pushing her towards him. "Show him what you made for him. Don't be shy."

Teresa pulled her mother with her, hiding her face behind her mother's hand. "I made this for you." She mumbled timidly, holding out the picture that she had done for him with her new paints and coloured pencils.

Mistoffelees carefully took the picture and stared at it. "Wow!" He touched the face of the picture. "This is amazing!" He looked down at her. "You did all of this by yourself?" She nodded. "You're quite an artist, aren't you?"

Teresa blushed. "Well, you're my favourite cat and I…I wanted to do something nice for you."

"This is lovely." Kneeling down he opened his arms. "And do I get a hug with it?"

Teresa paused for less than a heartbeat before pulling away from her mother's hand and throwing herself eagerly into the black and white cat's arms, hugging him tightly, almost crying.

"And," He whispered. "Would the little lady like a picture with me?"

"Mummy, can I have a picture with Mister Mistoffelees?" Teresa asked eagerly, but her mother looked crestfallen, shaking her head.

"We don't have a camera, sweetie." She said apologetically.

"Oh." Teresa's face fell, her lip trembling.

"Wait a second…" Mistoffelees said, his arm still around her. "Leon, can you call upstairs and see if Munkustrap has his instant camera thing with him and ask him if he can send someone down with it?"

"Sure."

Mistoffelees smiled. "Thanks."

Less than five minutes later, footsteps clattered down the stairs and a big man ran around the corner. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and had long, brown hair. "I think I could take a little picture if you like." He said.

"You don't have to do this." Teresa heard her mother say.

"But we want to." Mistoffelees replied cheerfully, lifting Teresa up in his arms and straightening her pretty yellow dress. "Okay, Andy, give it your best shot - me and the little Princess."

The camera flashed and there was a buzz and whirr. An undeveloped photograph emerged almost immediately and Andy - if that was his name - laid it aside on the nice doorman's desk.

He cocked his head. "How about another couple, just in case? And one for you, M… er… Misto?"

"Sounds good to me." Mistoffelees replied.

Teresa couldn't help grinning broadly, not caring that her two top front teeth were missing. She was just happy to be meeting Mister Mistoffelees and having a picture taken with him.

Several minutes later, they finished the pictures and they had come out great. The black cat picked up a pen and quickly signed two of them for her, handing them to the delighted girl.

"Something to remember me by, eh?" He winked impishly at her, as she heard the door behind her opening.

"Thank you!" She hugged him one more time. "I love you, Mister Mistoffelees."

Her mother took her hand and - hugging her new photographs protectively - the little girl allowed herself to be lead past the gawping blond man in the thick coat and scarf who was standing at the door.

She never saw Mistoffelees stand up and mark one in the air, before smirking and bouncing back around the corner, out of sight of the man who had just returned from his lunch break.

***

"Help!"

Miranda looked around when something large and weighty slammed into the door of her dressing room. "Who is it?"

"Me!"

"That doesn't help much."

"I'm twapped! It's got me!"

Miranda chuckled. "Come on in, Menke." She unfurled from her seat and stretched as the door opened, revealing the still-sweaty-lycra clad dancer, his fingers groping through his shoulder fluff. What can I help you with?"

"It's got me!" He replied frantically, tugging at his shoulders. "It's drying…fusing to my skin! I can't get out of it!"

"And you've been doing this for how long now?"

"Er…" He paused, scratching his ear. "Running around with demon lycra trying to kill me or the show?"

"The show, dear boy." Approaching him, she moved behind him and reached up to the fasteners. "You forgot that this unitard has the little zipper instead of the poppers, didn't you?"

"Um…"

"That would be a no comment cos I would feel stupid, I assume." She murmured, unfastening the zip and peeling it down from his shoulders. "And I suppose that also means you don't know that a certain friend of yours is lurking about, if you're still in your costume and it's intact and unmolested…"

"Whoa! You mean Annie is about?" Menke threw his hands up, which only succeeded in tangling his arms in the flapping material of his sleeves that he had been in the process of slipping his arms out of. "Crap!"

"Wait…" Miranda pulled his hands loose. "And, yes. Annie's about."

"Man, if I knew that, I could have just had her tear it off with her teeth…"

"And she does that on a regular basis, does she?"

Menke snickered. "In her dreams."

"You're so modest, aren't you?" She patted his shoulder, clearly amused, before moving back to her cushioned seat in the corner. "Imagining charming and sweet young ladies like Annie are fantasizing about you."

"And you're deluded."

"How so?"

"Imagining Annie Lawson's a charming and sweet young lady!" He laughed merrily, before pecking her on the cheek and bounding out of the room with a backward shout of. "Thanks, Mira!"

"Mad…" Miranda curled back on her seat sleepily, pulling her long, slim legs up underneath her body and pillowing her head on her folded arms on the neighbouring chair. "Absolutely, barking mad."

***

"So you're taking advantage of us?" Jordan murmured lazily.

He was lying on his back, his arms stretched over his head, his head pillowed in his wife's lap. She had her legs crossed beneath her and her eyes were closed, her fingers running absently over Jordan's scalp.

Blue had joined them and was apparently dozing on the couch, Jordan looking after her while Andy had disappeared somewhere. She was resting between his thighs, using his belly as a pillow.

Annie looked up from the sketch she was doing. "What did you say?"

Jordan slitted one eye open. "You're taking advantage of us, Annie." He replied, his quiet voice a serious monotone. "We should have you thrown out for being such a nightmare to all the poor kitties."

"Don't be mean to the poor woman, Jor. She's dating Phil and that's punishment enough for anyone." Rachel murmured, her other hand running down his chest beneath his loose vest. A small smile crept onto his lips, but he didn't move.

"Did they just insult me?" Phil's voice demanded.

He had disappeared from the social area almost ten minutes before and Annie turned around with a grin, only to freeze, staring at the figure in the doorway. The tall, lean, striped figure.

"Phil?"

Doing a little twirl, he bowed. "One in the same."

"You…you're Munk…"

"I am?" Phil looked down at himself. "Bugger! I was trying for Demeter."

"Sod off, you git. Get out of my costume!" Andy's voice cried out indignantly, a moment before a second silver tabby rudely pushed past Phil and into the common area, spreading his warmered hands. "Now, this is what you wanted to see, hmm? The genuine article?"

"Uh..."

"Isn't she just so eloquent?" Jordan drawled dryly.

Phil stepped alongside Andy, grinning. Andy slung a friendly arm around the slightly shorter Munkustrap's shoulders, both of them flashing wide, wicked grins in Annie's direction, as she continued to silently open and close her mouth.

"Does she always react like this when she sees stripes?"

"Why do you think I keep trying to nick a costume?" Phil inquired with an impish smirk. "I can't think of any other way to stop her asking me to do the laundry."

"Now, if only my little lady would start doing that."

Blue eyes opened and gazed up at him drowsily. "You even think about it and I won't like you anymore." She yawned, snuggling against Jordan's belly, his hand brushing over her mussed, gel-free hair. "So there." She added as an afterthought, before settling back to sleep.

Rachel smiled, reaching over her husband's chest and adding a quick caress to the girl's head, before nodding to Annie. "I'm impressed, though, boys. You managed to silence her. I think this is possibly the first time ever..."

"Scuse me...passing through..." Another strangely-familiarly-coloured figure pushed past them, carrying a soggy lump of dark fabric in his hands. He paused and looked at the two men he had just passed. "Looks like a convention of the silver and black variety." Menke remarked, as if oblivious to his own fresh unitard as he continued across the room, then stopped. "Annie! Imagine seeing you here! I had NO idea you were going to be here."

"Eep..."

"No idea at all." He smirked back at the two other Munkustraps as the brunette's arm supplies went flying and he promptly had to drop his wet bundle to receive an armful of laughing, squealing artist. "So I guess this means you're pleased to see me?"

"You...you're Munk as well!" She held him at arm's length, staring at him, then hugged him again. "You!"

"But what about me?!" Phil whined, tugging at his unitard. "I'm Munkustrap."

"No! I'm Munkustrap!" Andy yelled indignantly.

"No!" Jordan's voice drowned out Menke's. "I'm Munkustrap and so's my wife."

Rachel gave her husband a look of mock-irritation. "What did I tell you about quoting Monty Python, dear?" She swatted his chest. "We're meant to be the weird serious ones. How can we be weird and serious if you can quote Monty Python?"

Jordan blinked helplessly. "Because I'm cute?"

"Cute? With a tattooed noggin?" Menke snickered. "Jor, the only way any male can be attractive to a member of the opposite sex is by possessing a thick and luxurious mane to prove he is virile and healthy and such like."

"Menke, you've been reading too many of Demi's books from work again." Annie chastised, her voice oddly tight, from her position of being hugged against Menke's chest. "That's only referring to cats. Not to humans."

"I know." He flashed a smile at her, then seemed to notice something. "Annie, wanna sit somewhere?" She nodded against his shoulder and Menke glanced back at Phil, who hurried over, Andy left looking bewildered. "Andy, care to bring your stripy butt over to join us?"

"Do I get to know why?"

"In a little while, maybe." Phil replied, he and Menke bustling Annie over to a more private corner, the pair of them squishing her onto a couch and cuddling on either side of her. Andy was forced to take the space at her feet, kneeling between her knees and squeezing one of her hands.

"You guys be okay?"

Menke looked back over at Jordan and Rachel. "You guys just look after the ickle person for us." He suggested softly, drawing Annie securely against his shoulder, his arm around her. "We'll be back to annoy you in a little while."

***

"She was so cute!"

"You did mention that, hon."

Malcolm grinned up at his lover, his white make-up just removed. "But she was so happy to see me! I've never seen a kid's face up light up like that and the picture! Did I show you the picture she did for me?"

Raymond smiled indulgently as the painting was waved in front of his face for the seventh time since Malcolm had returned from the stage door area. It was quickly added to the small collection of pictures that decorated the little Goth's mirror, beside a photograph of him with the little artist.

"Isn't she just adorable?"

"D'you always like the babes of darker, better-looking persuasion, hon?" Raymond murmured huskily, bending until his lips brushed against Malcolm's ear. "I'm startin' to see a pattern in your taste..." Malcolm simply smiled, lifting his face to Raymond's to claim a kiss.

"You stole my costume!"

Whatever romantic that might have happened in the following few moments was immediately cancelled, the red- and black-haired dancer standing up and rounding his seat, one of Raymond's hands still on his shoulder as a calming force.

"It was actually my own costume, Jo." Malcolm said. He sounded surprisingly calm, but Raymond wasn't taking any chances, his hand tightening on his lover's shoulder. "In case you had forgotten, I was here first."

"Well, you took my part then! I'm Mistoffelees here."

Malcolm shrugged, still calm. Raymond was both impressed and puzzled. "In case I was mistaken, I didn't take your role. We weren't onstage and you weren't anywhere near the stage door area, when that little girl asked to see you."

"You had no right!"

"No right to make a little child happy?" Laughter bubbled up from the Goth. "Man, you really are full of yourself, aren't you? In case you hadn't noticed, I'm Mistoffelees when you're not there." He took a step towards Joseph. "And, as I seemed to recall, you weren't at stage door, which means that I was Mistoffelees there."

"You know she wanted to see me!"

"No," Malcolm's smile was broad and sickeningly sweet. "She wanted to see Mister Mistoffelees and that was exactly what she got to see. A Mistoffelees who didn't run out of the front door to avoid a cute little girl and her beautiful picture."

Joseph scowled at him. "She wanted to see me. I'm the famous Mistoffelees."

"Jo, quit while you're ahead, buddy." Raymond murmured. "She wanted to see the Mistoffelees and she got to meet the best Misto in the world."

Malcolm flushed, still smiling sweetly. Joseph's expression darkened. "If he's the best Mistoffelees in the World," He demanded sourly. "Why wasn't he chosen to play Mistoffelees in the video?"

"Who would want to be in it?" Malcolm asked cheerfully. "I mean, yeah, it was a big deal, all international and stuff, but I really don't want to be remembered as a sparkly pussy for the rest of my life." Raymond snickered, while Malcolm continued. "If I'm going to have a role to make my own, I want it to be something new. There are too many famous Mistoffelees in the world. I want to be different."

"You're just saying that cos you're jealous."

"Of you? Puh-lease!" Malcolm shook his head. "Nah, mate. I'm happy with what I've got. I don't need my name on a video to feel worth something. I can dance, I can sing, I can do acrobatics. I have a wonderful boyfriend and great friends. Why would I need my name on a video with possibly the worst continuity and editing in history to make me feel good?"

Joseph threw his hands up. "I don't get you guys!" He snapped, turning and stomping out of the dressing room.

As the footsteps faded down the hall, Malcolm leaned back against his lover's chest. "Something tells me," He remarked, reaching behind his back to the tied waistband of the bigger dancer's loose trousers. "That all that boy needs is a really good shag."

As Malcolm reached up to claim a kiss, Raymond inquired. "Are you going to give him one?"

Nuzzling the big dancer's jaw, the lean dancer chuckled. "Ray, as you so kindly pointed out, I go for the dark and sweet variety." Blue eyes met brown. "And I could really do with some of the dark, sweet variety right now."

"I'm guessin' you ain't talkin' about chocolate here."

"Damn straight." Malcolm murmured into a kiss. "I'm talking coffee."

"Little ass."

"Bigger ass."

Not much was said after that.

***

"So," Tommy looked around the social area. "Is everyone sorted out?"

After finding out what had been upsetting Blue, she had been sent out by them – and everyone else, when word spread of her task – to get a Chinese takeaway from somewhere and hadn't realised just how far she had to walk to get there.

Now, laden down with carrier bags filled with succulent-smelling, tinfoil cased food, she had managed to make the single, somewhat unreliable lift work for the first time in days and had managed to avoid the stairs.

No one would have believed that swearing profusely at the elevator was the secret of her success.

"It depends what you mean by sorted out." Raymond replied. He was sitting with Rachel, Jordan, Malcolm, Blue and Andy. Half of the group seemed to be fast asleep and using their respective partners as a pillow.

"Well, Blue is out of her dressing room." Tommy nodded to the end of the couch, where Andy - in his Munkustrap costume - was precariously balanced on the arm with his dainty fiancée in his lap, her arms over his shoulders, her head resting on his right shoulder. "That's progress."

"Yeah, but..." The big American nodded towards the other end of the lounge.

"Oh...Kay..." Tommy stared at the two tabby figures flanking Annie Lawson, who seemed to be cuddled against the larger of the two figures, who definitely wasn't the Phil-shaped one of the tabbies. "Do I even want to know?"

"Apparently, she needed a break."

"With two Munkustraps?"

"Seems so." Raymond seemed more interested in peering at the large, steaming and fragrant bags of Chinese food that she was carrying than in informing her of what had occurred since she had departed. "Um...did you manage to get my Sweet and Sour pork?"

"Would I have come back if I hadn't?"

"You did last time."

Tommy stuck her tongue out him. "Don't be picky." She dropped the bags on the table with enough force for the sound to catch the attention of those around them. "Menke, do you and your buddies wanna come for something to nibble?"

"Annie?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?" Phil asked, his voice soft and concerned.

The artist nodded, getting to her feet along with Menke. "I'm fine, Phil."

"Its only fair that we trade property since I bought dinner." Tommy stated, shrugging out of her long coat and tossing it over the sleeping Malcolm, who immediately yelled in fright. "I get to snuggle with the artist and hear her deep, dark secret and you boys get food."

"It's no big deal, Tommy." Tommy, however, noticed that Annie kept a firm grip on Menke's left hand, his right arm loosely around her waist, his fingers gently stroking her side. "Plus, I do prefer to snuggle with Menke and Phil."

Tommy smiled. "One day, my dear," She purred, motioning for them to sit down, preferably avoiding the grumbling Malcolm. "I will bring you over to the dark side and you'll find out just who is the better snuggle partner."

"Until that day, Tommy, I'll stick with these two."

"So young...so naive..." Tommy sighed, starting to dish out the food, as the rest of the group gathered for the meal.

***

"What were you having a shower for now?"

Tony paused halfway across the common area, his towel wrapped around his waist, his bristly ginger stubble dotted with beads of water. "Well, I went out for a walk and as I be buggered, God decided it was time to do a piddle on my head."

"Translation?" Andy suggested around a mouthful of Chow Mein.

"It were raining on me 'ead." Tony leaned over the back of Annie's chair to snag a water chestnut from her plate. Crunching it, he added. "It was just a bit of extra bad luck when I crossed Trafalgar Square and a load of pigeons decided that I needed to be fertilised."

"Now, Tony, what did we say about having a target shaved into your scalp?" Rachel laughed reprovingly.

Tony grinned. "I was hoping it would work for pulling, but I guess not." His hand shot down in front of Annie again to steal another water chestnut, but before he could grab it, her hand wrapped around his wrist. "Hey!"

"Look at you!" She exclaimed, turning his arm in her grip. "All these freckles!"

"Yeah. I have a lotta freckles! So? Lemme have food!"

"You can have some food when I'm finished looking." Annie put her plate down on the crowded table and twisted to look up at him, her jaw dropping as she took in the rest of his body.

While he wasn't one of the biggest, most muscular men in the cast, Tony was lean and wiry, perfect for playing both Admetus and Macavity. He had a ginger buzz-cut and eyes that were a peculiar shade of turquoise-blue.

And freckles.

There wasn't a square inch of his body that wasn't splattered with the things!

"Do you just have those things everywhere?" She asked, shaking her head.

"Nope." He was still peering hopefully down at her unfinished meal. "There's only four parts of me body that don't have any." He raised his hands and bared pink palms to her. "These and my feet."

Phil nudged his girlfriend. "Ask." He suggested, winking. "You know you want to."

"Ask him what?" Blue inquired, looking momentarily puzzled, while trying to catch a long noodle from her fork in her mouth.

"I think I have a vague idea." Tommy chuckled.

"Is it about something that begins with 'P' and can be used to do something that rhymes with duck?" Malcolm asked, snatching a prawn cracked that Raymond was trying to stick to his tongue.

Tony pretended to look shocked. "You want to know about…" He looked around furtively, then said in an exaggerated stage whisper. "My willy?"

"Willy?"

"Anyone want to translate for the brunette?" Tony looked around at the group. "How can anyone be an artist and not know what a willy is?"

"Knob." Malcolm said around his rice.

Raymond raised a hand. "Family jewels."

"Bits and pieces." Jordan nodded.

"Pee-pee pipe." Menke said wisely. Several brows were raised. "What? I was a very slow child."

"So slow that he hasn't even reached the mental age of a toddler yet, let alone a teenager." Phil yelled indignantly when Menke swatted him across the head. "What? Just cos you don't know to call it a dingly-dangly?"

"Do you get the vague idea, Annie?" Rachel asked hopefully. Annie nodded. "Oh, good! The sooner we get off this discussion topic, the better…so, are you going to ask what we all know you want to ask…"

"I can't do that!"

"Why? We all know you wanna."

Annie blushed. "Cos its embarrassing!"

"I'll ask then." Malcolm said cheerfully. "Tony, have you got those things on your tackle and all?"

"Is that all?" Tony looked down at Annie. "You should have just asked."

With a flourish, he whipped his scruffy blue towel open, revealing the subject of the last two minutes of highly mature conversation.

Silence fell.

Andy swallowed his mouthful of noodles - hard. Malcolm's rice fell from his slack mouth. Raymond blinked, rubbed his eyes and blinked again. Jordan sat up, peered over, then lay back down, grinning.

Menke and Phil – in the same instant – exchanged looks, then stared up at Tony. The closest eyes to both of them and the closest eyes the… item widened and blinked at a furious pace.

"It…it looks like a big freaking dangly carrot…"

"Astute observation, Andy." Tommy drawled. "Its not like you haven't seen one of them before."

"I…uh…I've seen one." Andy half-stood when Tony turned to walk away. "But never in that…er.."

"Large size?" Tony offered with a grin.

"Colour!" Andy exclaimed vehemently. "I see a bigger one than that every morning when I get dressed."

"Yeah." Tommy supplied. "It's my dildo and it's hanging on the bathroom wall."

"Tommy!"

Tony just chuckled, tucking his towel back around his waist. "You know, it doesn't look that much like a carrot." He remarked over his shoulder as he wandered back towards his dressing room door. "That only happens when it's hard."

Several snorts sprayed Chinese food all over the floor and table and Tony's laugh rang back to them as he vanished.

***

"You feeling better now?"

"Uh huh."

Menke ran a hand over Annie's head. "You're lucky I'm not on tonight." He said with a smile. "You get to keep the best looking Munkustrap while that prat of yours has to go and play at being Tugger."

"Thanks for putting up with me, Menke."

He chuckled, nuzzling her short hair. "Y'know its not a problem, Annie-person." He murmured. "After all, I am the only twit in this place who knows what the deal is with you needing your silver comfort blanket."

"Apart from Phil."

"Of course." He let her snuggle comfortably against his shoulder and continued to stroke her hair. "Just so you know, though," He added. "You don't get to keep me as your permanent teddy bear."

"Got a good reason?"

"An eight-months pregnant wife?"

"That would work, I suppose." Annie replied reluctantly, looking up at the vivid green eyes, a trace of envy visible there. "That's going to be one lucky kid, to have a dad like you."

"Well, you are a bit old for me to adopt." He smiled. She tried to return it, but it was strained and her eyes fell. "If I could, you know, I probably would, although I think a psychiatrist would have a field day with our father-daughter roles and slightly unhinged psyches, what with you fancying the tail off me."

"You're so modest." She rubbed her head under his chin, sighing. "Why couldn't my dad have been more like you?" She shook her head. "All I remember is mum crying all the time and them yelling…then he was gone…"

"I know, sweetheart." He hugged her warmly. "He didn't deserve to have a daughter like you…kids like your family. No guy should ever walk out on his family like that, no matter what he claims his excuse is."

"You better not abandon yours!" She said it in what was meant to be a teasing tone, but he could see the shadows in her eyes and nodded.

"I couldn't do that to anyone, Annie." He replied softly. "I'm too much of a softy to be able to walk away from anyone. I'm the guy who finds puppies in the gutter and tries to convince Demi we need to look after them."

"Always looking after helpless, pathetic critters?"

He grinned impishly. "Well look what's hugging me now."

"Menke!"

"What?" he laughed as she poked him, swatting at her hands to fend her off. "I said I had a weakness for pathetic things, but I never said that I was particularly polite and nice to them!"

"I bet you're nice to the puppies."

"Yep!"

"Then why not be nice to me?"

The dancer shrugged. "Cos that would be no fun?" He offered.

"You're a pig."

"Actually," He motioned to his costume and wig. "I'm a cat." He pounced on her, pinning her on the couch and started nuzzling her, the artist shrieking and squealing, trying to shove him off unsuccessfully. "Purr, baby!"

"Menke! Get off!"

"Me no thinkie so!" He grinned wickedly. "Can I ask you something, Annie? Are you ticklish at all…?"

"No!"

"No, hmm?" The wicked gleam in his eyes made her start to squirm even more. "I think I should check to see if that's correct."

"MENKE!"