AN: Okay, I just hauled my cheap self to Music World and bought a copy of The Nightmare Before Christmas on DVD. Ken Page rocks as the Oggie Boogie man, does he not? In any case, here's the chapter. Thanks to all of my reviewers so far.
"Deu-ter-on-o-my!"
The grey kit looked up from the car bonnet he had been sunbathing on. "Uh oh."
"You little spawn of Satan! Deuteronomy, come here! I'll get you for this, you mini shag rug!"
He nimbly jumped off of the rusted car, and started running as fast as his legs could carry him. He was running because the Rum Tum Tugger was chasing him, and gaining fast. The Curious Cat obviously hadn't taken too kindly to the Jellicle leader dunking his tail in green paint while he was sleeping. And since Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer were both with Munkustrap, there was only one suspect.
"He's trying to kill me!" the kit shouted desperately. "Jenny! Help!"
The Gumbie Cat looked up from her knitting for a second. Seeing the predicament, she sighed and shook her head before returning to her work. She truly loved her father, but she had to admit that he needed to be taught a lesson.
Mistoffelees glanced out from on top of a junk pile where he had been meditating over his third name. He sighed softly. Deuteronomy was in trouble. Again. The little ball of fluff probably deserved whatever the Rum Tum Tugger was planning to do to him. Still, he felt a bit sorry for the kit, so he quickly headed down to help him out.
"I've got you now, you little demon!" grinned the Tugger, who was right on Deuteronomy's heels. The kitten tripped, and he saw his opportunity. He sprung into the air, aiming to pounce on the grey pile of fur. Right before he hit, the kit vanished, and the Rum Tum Tugger fell hard into the dirt. Face first. The large tom looked up to see Deuteronomy several meters away, and a smirking tuxedoed cat perched on a rusted steel drum.
"What did you do that for?" he demanded angrily. "I almost had him!"
"It's the duty of a magician to protect the leader of his tribe," Mistoffelees smiled innocently. "Besides, he's only a kitten, you big bully. Green's a good colour for you, by the way."
The Tugger growled, and shot off after Deuteronomy again. The little kit could move fast for his young age, something that amazed the tom given the condition he had been in a few years ago. The grey streak slipped into a hole under a low car. The Rum Tum Tugger didn't stop in time, and slid into the side door, his face hitting the solid metal with a rather unique noise that sounded a bit like a gong.
Mistoffelees stooped his head to hide a smile as the large tom climbed dizzily to his feet.
"That's it!" he declared. "This time, he's kitten stew! When I get my paws on him…"
"If you get your paws on him," corrected Mistoffelees. "If you haven't noticed, there's no possible way anyone other than Deuteronomy can fit in that hole. I don't think even Gus could slip in there."
"He's gone from being the largest cat to the smallest cat," growled the Rum Tum Tugger. "Well, the largest except for Bustopher Jones, anyway."
"Actually, Old Deuteronomy wasn't really fat, he was just broad-shouldered, and he had a lot of fur."
"And that helps me because…"
"It doesn't, really. But I will say this, if you don't have that kitten out by the time Munkustrap gets back from his meeting with that other tribe, you're in trouble. You were supposed to be looking after him, not trying to murder him."
"I'll get him out, don't worry about that. Worry about what's going to happen when I do get him out," the larger cat sniffed. He crouched down by the hole, and stuck his paw in. He fished around for a bit, looking for the kit. Eventually, he let out a yelp, jumped up, and banged his head on the car with another unique noise almost, but not quite, like the first one. He withdrew his paw, cursing.
"You shouldn't swear in front of the kitten, Tug," smirked the Conjuring Cat. "If he picks up any bad language, heads will roll."
"He's not a kitten, he's a demon! Do you have any idea how sharp his teeth are? They're like tiny needles! He should be named Mistoffelees, not you."
"I think you're being a little harsh, Rum Tum Tugger. He's only a kitten, he acts like kittens do. He may be a bit high-strung, but he's certainly no demon. In fact, he's a healer, although his powers haven't shown in this life," yawned Misto. "Besides, I've gotten him back once, I can do it again."
In a puff of smoke, a confused looking Old Deuteronomy was sitting in front of the Tugger's paws. Not wanting to lose him again, the tom quickly put his paw down, trapping the grey hairball under it.
"Come on, Tugger!" he complained. "I can't breath!"
"You're lucky you still have the option to breath, Mr. Smarty-Pants. You may be the Jellicle leader, but you're still smaller than me," he smirked, paying no mind to the kit's protests.
The black tom craned his head, and chuckled. "Red hot queen at twelve o'clock, Tugger."
"Bomba? Oh crud, got to hide the brat," With a sudden brain storm, he quickly shifted the kitten and plopped himself on top of him.
Bombalurina slunk up to the large tom, grinning like a seductress. She and the Rum Tum Tugger had been seriously flirting around for months. And the tom found it hard to be sexy when he had a ball of lint "cramping his style".
"Hey, beautiful," he said causally, ignoring the muffled shouts from under him.
"Hi, Tugger. Doing anything?"
"He's kitten-sitting," said Mistoffelees, giving a mysterious smile.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked suspiciously. "And what's Griz doing?"
"Griz? What's she… OW!"
The former glamour cat had snuck up behind the Rum Tum Tugger and sunk her extremely sharp claws into his tail in an attempt to get him off Deuteronomy. Needless to say, it worked. The kits ran, laughing their fur off.
"I never did like that queen," growled the tom, nursing both his tail and his pride.
"I think she's adorable," grinned Bombalurina. "Still, it would be nice to have some normal kittens around here. Ones that aren't older than we are."
"Is that an offer?" asked the Tugger, wriggling his eyebrows.
The tuxedo tom groaned. "Would you two do that somewhere else? I just ate, and I think I'm going to be sick. By the way, Tugger, you might want to arm yourself. Munkustrap's coming, and you don't know where the Almighty Ball of Fluff is off to."
The silver tabby fumed up to them. "Everlasting Cat, I hate that Yalta tribe. Everything's blood with them! Acting Leader isn't good enough for them; they want to see Old Deuteronomy's blood! So I bring Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer, and they completely humiliate me! And Jenny's refused to meet with any of them… Not to mention I can't talk to the leader with his advisor of some sort hovering over him and whispering gossip in his ear!"
"Yeah, those Yaltas are some group," muttered the Rum Tum Tugger. "Er, Munkustrap? Hypothetically, what would you do if you found out I lost Old Deuteronomy?"
"I'd rip off your tail and feed it to the Pollicles, and then I'd shave off your mane and shove it down your throat," he replied with an unsettling calmness. "Why?"
"Ah, you see, the thing is…" started the tom, but he was thankfully saved.
Skimbleshanks trotted up to them, the wriggling Jellicle leader in his mouth. He set the kit down, and the small tom tumbled forward before falling face first in the dirt.
"Lose something?" the Scottish cat asked, smirking. "I found him trying to assassinate Jellylorum, with Chelonian and Grizabella as his partners in crime. Don't ask where Gus is, because I don't want to know."
"I was not trying to whatever-that-was Jelly! We were just playing, and you nearly made me jump out of my fur when you grabbed me!" Deuteronomy protested. "It's not very nice to treat your father-in-law like this, Skimble."
Munkustrap couldn't help but chuckle. "I thought I told you to behave, Deuteronomy. If you keep disobeying the Rum Tum Tugger like this, I'll have to start leaving you with Asparagus, and he has no qualms about locking you in a dryer for a few hours."
"But I don't like Tugger!" he complained. "He's too busy trying to impress queens to be any fun. Why couldn't I go with you?"
"Because I was at a very important meeting, and the Yalta territory is no place for a kitten. Tugger, I need to see you. Jenny, Teazer, and Jerrie, too. Come on. Mistoffelees, please watch Deuteronomy."
"Will do, Munkustrap!" he saluted as they walked off.
The grey kitten eyed him warily. "What are you going to do to me?"
"Nothing," the tuxedo said calmly, as he used his paw to draw a circle in the dirt around Deuteronomy. "Now, I'm going to go talk with Victoria, and you're going to stay inside this circle so you don't get into any trouble."
"I am not going to stay in here!" he said, and gave a jump towards outside the line. He stopped in midair, and fell backwards as if he had hit an invisible barrier.
Mistoffelees laughed. "You need to learn, Old Deuteronomy, that when a magical cat says something, he means it."
The kitten scowled, and cautiously came closer to the line. He placed a paw on where the wall would have been, and green sparks began to jump from his paw. A dome formed over the circle, and it appeared to shatter, the pieces falling to the ground only to disappear. Deuteronomy lowered his paw, stepped out of the circle, and gave a smirk.
The conjuring cat's eyes widened for a moment, before he calmed and gave a sigh. "Well, this was bound to happen sooner or later."
"What?" he asked, dropping down onto his haunches before the tom. "What did I just do?"
"You just removed my spell. You used to have the ability to unravel charms and heal wounds before you went to the Heaviside Layer, but we thought you lost them along with your memories. Do you feel any different?"
"Not really, no," he said, frowning a bit. "I can't remember anything I'm not supposed to, either."
Mistoffelees bit his lip. "This isn't good. A kitten your age and size shouldn't be able to contain powers, yet if they've been inside you all this time, it must have something to do with your mind. I honestly don't know what to make of this."
Meanwhile at the tire throne, a meeting for great importance was going on.
"They say they need to see Old Deuteronomy for them to trust us," fumed Munkustrap. "They are so pig-headed, it's a wonder that they're cats at all!"
"But we need their help, however much I hate to admit it," Jennyanydots reminded him. "If Macavity or the Pollicles attack again, we'll need support, and the Yaltas can give us that."
"Just bring Deuteronomy along next time you go," suggested Rumpelteazer. "If they want to see him, let them see him."
"In the condition he's in? We'll be laughed out of the territory! We'll become known all over London as the tribe that's led by a kitten!" the Rum Tum Tugger snorted.
"Just explain to them what happened," sighed Mungojerrie. "Maybe they'll be impressed. I mean, how many tribes have a leader who's practically immortal?"
"Yes, but…" For once, the silver tabby seemed to be at a loss for words. "I just don't know what to do. If we bring Old Deuteronomy into Yalta territory, he's open to kidnapping. Or worse. Do you know what the Yaltas do before they banish people? They cut off their tails, and tie them around their necks."
"That's an old queen's tale, Munkustrap," scoffed Jenny. "Have you ever seen a tailless cat wandering around with a bleeding collar of flesh around its neck?"
"Well, no. But that's not the point! If the Yaltas take Deuteronomy hostage, we'll be at their mercy. We'd have to give into their demands."
"No we wouldn't," pointed out Rumpelteazer. "I mean, we probably would, but Granddad doesn't have the key to the Heaviside Layer, you do. If it was a demand too outrageous, like mass suicide or something, you'd just become permanent leader."
Everyone glared at the queen, and she shrunk into the background. No one wanted to think that something like that would ever happen. They would do anything needed to save Deuteronomy, and they knew it.
"I guess we have no choice," he sighed. "In three days, we'll visit the Yalta tribe, and we'll bring Old Deuteronomy with us. Jennyanydots, I don't suppose I could convince you to come this time?"
She shook her head. "With all due respect, Munkustrap, I'd rather not."
"Fine. Tugger, Rumpelteazer, Mungojerrie, you'd better go save Mistoffelees from Deuteronomy. Or the opposite, it depends on how much Misto's been practising him aim lately."
The twins took off, and Tugger went to follow them.
"Rum Tum Tugger?" the silver tabby questioned. "Since when as your tail been green?"
The Maine Coon gave a growl, and stalked off after the calico-coloured cats.
Munk turned to the Gumbie Cat. "Jenny, I'm curious, why are you so afraid of the Yaltas? I mean, none of us are very fond of them, but you seem outright terrified of them."
She shook her head sadly. "I'd prefer not to say. But I will not put one paw in Yalta territory."
Munkustrap sighed as the orange queen headed off after her offspring. Not much bothered Jenny; she'd tend to the sickest cats and bandage the goriest wounds. What would have had such an impact on her?
He stopped, backtracking. He had thought the same thing when the Rum Tum Tugger had told him that Deuteronomy had once planned to take his own life. Was what happened to Jenny and what happened to the Jellicle leader the same thing? After all, they were father and daughter.
Oh well, he finally thought, trotting towards where he had left the kitten leader. It was none of his business anyway. His business was making sure Old Deuteronomy stayed alive.