A/N: School...life...tired...and writer's block. You ever have one of those chapters you just had to finish and get up and move on, instead of sitting and overthinking it for much longer? Yeah...so if this has any major mechanical mistakes in it, feel free to tell me. As much as I tried to concentrate, alot of my "reviewing" of this chapter ended up being "glazing over" of the chapter. Enjoy.

Chapter 3 - Calculating

Demeter sat alone on a nice cool day, staring off into the distance, possibly thinking of her third name, or just what she was going to eat for dinner. After a while of this, she rolled on her back, one paw in the air, eyes watching the sky. A while later, she sat up, took in a deep breath, considered changing positions, and sighed. Then she resolved to lie down again, to stare off in a different direction, and deeply contemplate something. Maybe something different. Maybe not.

By the looks of it, the "maybe not" was the best guess.

"Everlasting Cat," Plato said to himself as he watched from the inside of a pipe far enough away that she couldn't detect him, but close enough be able to hear any conversations she should have been have been having, but didn't. "I've never seen a more boring cat in my life…" He was about ready to fling himself in front of a moving car than have to sit and watch one more moment of Demeter's uninteresting existence. But he decided to be nice about it and continue watching.

He later found himself wishing he had chosen to be mean and leave.

----

Mungojerrie raced down the pathways of the junkyard, Rumpelteazer just behind him. He stopped cold, the little tabby queen crashing into him, and both cats went rolling about two feet before coming to a stop. After a moment of the two staying perfectly still, Rumpelteazer raised her head and started rubbing it. Mungojerrie, in turn, rubbed the area on his rear where the queen had ended up head-butting him. "Ow," he moaned.

"Nice one, Jerrie," Rumpelteazer groaned, falling dramatically to the side, one leg flying in the air, before going limp beside her.

"You was tail-gatin', Teaze," Mungojerrie defended. "'Ow many times do I gotta tell ya, not to tailgate…?"

"Yeah, well…" was the answer, which seemed to satisfy the tabby male. They both picked up, shook off any injuries they had, and began their race around the junkyard.

A few seconds passed…

…and Tumblebrutus came wheezing from behind the old ford in the junkyard. He collapsed against the hubcab, falling to the ground, struggling to catch his breath. After the thought that he would die from exhaustion had passed, and he caught some of his breath, he managed to mutter, "What the fu--" before doubling over from cramping.

------

Pouncival hummed a song to himself as he walked around the junkyard. He wasn't too concerned about his mission just yet. He had a good week to work on it. A little less than that, as a few days had past as it was…but he had just eaten a big meal, and didn't feel in the mood to spy on anyone, least of all two supposed witch's cats.

Either way, he would need to brush up on his spying ability, something he hadn't done since he was a kitten, following Etcetera around. But the calico always knew the patched tom was following her. In fact, she had suggested the game of spying to begin with. And they each took turns being the spyer or the spyee.

But now that they were older, his kittenhood playmate only talked to the queens. And he didn't mind that so much, except that Etcetera was a good friend of his, and now, quite suddenly, she was…not.

Wiping the thought from his mind, he thought dessert would be in order after a long day of procrastination. After all, what was better: A dish of cream or following someone around under the heat of the sun?

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Plato sat with Tumblebrutus in his den. They were waiting for Pouncival, but of course that tom was always late. And while it would have been fun to stare at each other, the two opted instead to start without him. "She's so boring," Plato said, rubbing his temples, as though he had been utterly annoyed by the queen's lack of enthusiasm in life. "I don't blame Macavity for trying to kidnap her. It would at least make her DO something!"

Tumblebrutus frowned. "Isn't it against the rules to badmouth one's queen?"

"No. Did you want to make it one?"

Tumblebrutus shook his head. "No, no, by all means, let's keep that open."

Plato smiled. "Rumple annoying you?"

"They're insane!" Tumblebrutus exclaimed, not missing his cue to let go of his frustration. "All they ever do is run around the junkyard as fast as possible! How am I supposed to keep up with them!"

Plato chuckled at his friend's predicament. "Learn to run just as fast? Oh, come on, it can't be that fast, now can it? At least your queen does something! Mine just stays still all day. Oh, wait, she breathes, too. I think…well, I wouldn't notice if she stopped. That's about it."

They heard footfalls outside the den. The two toms looked at each other, going silent. But when the footfalls revealed a Pouncival to be its source, the two cat's panicked looks turned into ones of annoyance. Oblivious, Pouncival sat between his two friends, smiling from ear to ear. "What's up?"

"You're late," Plato said, glaring at the tom.

"And you have cream all over your face," Tumblebrutus said, creeping in a little closer to examine the tom's face. "And it looks like it came from a dish…"

"How do you figure?" Plato asked getting just as close to Pouncival.

"I'm perceptive that way."

"Um," Pouncival leaned back. "Can you two give me some room!" The two toms sat back in their original positions, leaving Pouncival with plenty of space to begin his tale of woe or annoyance at his queen. Or he would have, had he a story to tell.

"Well?" Tumblebrutus asked.

"Well, what?"

"Don't you have something to say about Tantomile!"

"Oh, yeah, her," Pouncival took his tail and began to wring it in his paws. "I…I'm having trouble finding her."

Plato rolled his eyes. "Considering you've been looking in dishes of cream, I'd imagine that she would be a very hard to find." Plato pulled Pouncival's tail out from between his paws and tossed it to the side, with no regard to the pain that would cause the patched tom. "You haven't even started, have you?"

Pouncival tended to his tail, not looking the others in the eye. "Well…"

"You have three days, Pouncival!" Plato spat. "Tantomile isn't the easiest queen to understand! You should be happy to take advantage of this time."

"I will, I will…" Pouncival looked off to the side. Plato just shook his head.

Tumblebrutus sighed. "Three days…how the hell am I going to keep track of those two?"

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Tumblebrutus peeked out as Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer slowly ambled around the corner. This was odd…they weren't running about today. At all. What's more, they weren't laughing up a storm. Maybe something was wrong. Hopefully with Rumpleteazer. Then he could know her a little better. Get into her head a little better.

The tom walked a little closer, and the two cats walked forward a little as well. Slightly annoyed, and wanting to hear the conversation they were now whispering to one another, Tumblebrutus crept a little closer. The two cats jumped on top of an old oven and stayed there for a moment, Rumpleteazer's tail swishing back and forth. She seemed to be convulsing. Holding back a sob, maybe?

The patched tom tiptoed just a little closer…

…then quite suddenly found himself upside-down.

Rumpelteazer jumped down from the oven, smiling up at the cat. Tumblebrutus suddenly realized she wasn't keeping from crying…she was keeping from laughing! When he figured out he could hardly move his limbs, he was suddenly able to figure out what had happened.

He was caught in a net.

"Well, well, well," said Rumpleteazer, her eyes glistening as though she had just caught a mouse. "Would ya look what we caugh', Jerrie!"

Tumblebrutus managed to see the tom lying on the oven, smiling smugly. "I'm a lil' surprised. I though' it would be that otha' one."

"Well," Rumpleteazer shrugged. "As long as 'e's not botherin' us anymore." Rumpleteazer joined her partner in crime, and was about to leave with him.

"Wait!" Tumblebrutus called. "Aren't you going to get me down!" The cat burglars looked at each other before falling into a fit of giggles. Then, without an actual answer, (as thought they needed to give one after that), raced away.

Tumblebrutus moaned to himself, trying to kick his way out of the net. But he found that job impossible. Giving in, he just went limp, and sighed. "And I want to be second when I didn't even see that coming?" he asked no one in particular.

-------

Pouncival crept forward, his ears at attention, as he lay low to the ground, his fur just brushing against the dirt. He had found Coricopat and Tantomile, and now he wanted to get closer.

His mission? To get as close as possible without being found out. What made Tantomile tick? What was her life blood? What were her likes and dislikes? Could she stop that creepy unison thing she did with her brother? And did she ever have a kittenhood, or did she emerge from an orb during a moonlit night, complete with all current characteristics?

…was Tantomile her real name?

These very serious questions needed to be addressed before he came in close contact with the alien from mars – something she had made herself out to be in his mind, complete with retractable antennae so she could pass herself off as feline. After all, her secret agent status (another possible explanation for her strange behavior) could cause him harm. And were he to mess up, he may just sign himself a death sentence. Of death.

Ooh, a cricket!

Now stalking the cricket, which was a possible subordinate to Tantomile, he prepared to do as his name implied and pounce…

"What is he doing?"

"Tracking a cricket."

Pouncival jumped in surprise, looking left, right, then up, to see Coricopat was staring down at him from atop an old car bumper. He looked past him to see Tantomile sitting just behind her brother, looking on with mild curiosity. He looked beside him to see the cricket had made its escape…possibly to its escape pod to return to the mother ship.

These things weren't coincidences…

"Pouncival," Coricopat said, causing said cat to look back up to the multicolored tom. "What have you been doing these past few days?"

Pouncival thought about this for a moment. Then he felt there was no way to answer this other than to tell the truth. "F-Following you two…" He didn't know why, but he thought it was best to take note and mention to the others later that Coricopat had this ability to make Pouncival tell the truth. (Little did he know it was simply intimidation.)

"I know," Coricopat said with some annoyance. "Now a more important question. Did you think we didn't notice?"

"Well…" Pouncival sunk down, his ears falling back on his head, as though he were being punished. "Ideally, you weren't supposed to…" Coricopat looked back to his sister, who gave a meek smile at the response.

"At least he's honest," Tantomile said.

"Kittens," Coricopat shook his head. Pouncival narrowed his eyes, sitting up straight, his ears standing up in attention.

"What did you call me?"

Coricopat looked back, slightly perturbed at the young cat's sudden anger. "I only spoke the situation as I saw it." Pouncival huffed at the suggestion. "Now stop following us." With that, the tom whipped around, his tail nearly smacking Pouncival in the head, and began walking off with his sister. Tantomile took a moment to look Pouncival over, a calculating expression on her face, before following suit with her brother.

After the cats were out of ear shot, Pouncival hung his head lightly, his lips in a small pout. "I'm not a kitten…"

-------

Demeter sat about, lazing around. There was a brown and white moth resting on her flank, but she didn't care to notice. One careless flick of the tail, and the moth decided the situation was far too dangerous to stay where it was, and flew away.

Right over to Plato. He pounced before the moth even knew what had happened. Now captured in the cat's paws, the moth was at the white-faced tom's mercy. It was all Plato could do to not chuckle madly over his success. After all, he was hardly a kitten anymore. And he didn't want to scare Demeter, no matter how fun that would be. But he had been so bored watching the boring gold queen for so long, that he almost felt like maniacal laughter was not only called for, but necessary for his sanity, as irony would have it.

Demeter looked up quite suddenly, her eyes wide in fear. 'Finally!' Plato thought, as his attention was once again brought back to the mind-numbing reality before him. He didn't know what to expect from a cat who was renowned to be the epitome of cat nervousness, but anything was better than her lazing about, thinking.

The queen hurriedly turned and raced down the junk pile, disappearing from sight before Plato could even think to follow. Ready to reprimand himself for wanting to be the next second and not even being able to second-guess Demeter's motions, he looked to the source of the queen's sudden terror.

In a hushed conversation, Munkustrap and Skimbleshanks were walking near each other. Surely, they were talking about something important. But that's not what intrigued the bi-colored tom.

"Hmm…" Plato thought to himself for a moment, a triumphant smile slowly creeping across his face. He brought a paw up to scratch his chin, wondering just how he could take advantage of this new information. The moth, now free, quickly fluttered away from the patched tom, flying in front of Munkustrap, causing the silver tabby to jerk back his head and hiss in annoyance.