I'm horribly sorry for this ridiculously long wait, it won't happen again, I've threatened my muse into submission and I'll hopefully at least get this story done before writer's block rears its ugly head.

---

"So, what are we going to do with it when it wakes up?"

"Do? With it? Bro, it's a cat, not a toy."

"Well we did save her."

Minnie forced her eyes to open, wondering who was talking and why they were in her house, and why her bed suddenly felt suspiciously like cement. It was dark still; though there was that tranquil sort of feeling that told her dawn was not far off. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that there were cats surrounding her – feral, scruffy looking things…she soon forgot about the condition of the cats, however, as she realized that she was outside, the mansion was nowhere in sight, and that moments ago she was the prisoner of a deranged catnapper.

"Where am I?" she shrieked, sitting up so suddenly that she sent two of the cats diving for cover behind the nearby dumpsters.

"According to the sign, Burton Street," said one of the cats apprehensively from behind a dumpster, a tom with a rough orange and white coat on which she could see the fleas swarming on even from across the alleyway.

"No, no, I mean how did I get here? Where's the mansion? Where's Roberts?" Minnie was too upset even to worry about the fleas, something she would sorely regret later.

"The first and last we can answer," said a skinny tortishell queen, motioning to something behind Minnie's shoulder with one paw.

Minnie looked and gasped – a smoldering pile of metal seemed to be all that was left of Roberts' car, and she couldn't even imagine what shape Roberts himself was in. She could hardly keep herself from fainting on the spot, "How…how?"

"No time to explain right now. We've got to get going before the police come. Where did you say you lived?" said the queen, ignoring Minnie's obvious distress and perking her ears for the sound of sirens.

"Uh…uh…" Minnie, even in her normal state, had never really bothered to memorize exactly where the mansion was, and, looking around, didn't seem to have the faintest idea where she was, "Uh."

"Never mind now, we'll find it later, we're going to have to stowaway in the junkyard until they've gotten this mess cleaned up," a brown and white tom cut in, wrinkling his nose distastefully at the wreck.

Minnie sputtered – no matter where she was or what was happening, the very thought of going to a disgusting place like a junkyard appalled her beyond words. However, she didn't have much choice then to be bustled along by the small crowd of alley cats, still too shocked to put up much of a fuss other then "Bu–"

And so after weaving their way through the back alleys of - what seemed to Minnie at the time - the whole of London, they arrived at the junkyard.