(A/N: Since I'm going to try to update this regularly, if you have any ideas about what Nightcloud and Scourge should do after their honeymoon, let me know!)
The Honeymoon, Part 2
Nightcloud twirled around a luggage station joyfully, looking for a bright pink- and- purple polka dot suitcase. "Scurgy, do you see my bag?"
The tiny black tom, looking slightly embarrassed by his dancing bride, shook his head slowly. "No, dear. I only see normal looking suitcases."
"But mine is sooo much better than everybody else's!"
Scourge sighed and pulled a black and blood-red colored suitcase with a skull and cross-bones keychain off the conveyor belt. "I think mine is pretty great."
Nightcloud shook her head in horror. "No! Your suitcase is dark and evil! You need a new one. How about we buy you a nice pretty green one? Or a yellow one?"
"No nice pretty colors!" the tom cried, turning to face the sliding glass doors of the airport.
The black she-cat hurried after him. "Scurgy, take my bag! A gentleman never makes his lady carry her own suitcase!"
Not wanting to argue, Scourge sighed and grabbed the handle of the ugly tote. Nightcloud's case weighed more than twice as much as his own, and the tiny tom struggled to haul both outside to the taxi stand. Dropping both suitcases on the sidewalk, he plopped down on a bench and gasped for air. "Nighty…get my…inhaler!"
The she-cat unzipped a pocket on the top of Scourge's bad-boy suitcase and pulled out a blue inhaler. "Honestly!" she mewed. "I can't see how someone as evil and conniving as you can get winded just carrying suitcases!"
"Have you weighed yours?" Scourge gasped, puffing on his inhaler. "Mine only weighs 10 pounds."
"Mine isn't that much heavier," Nightcloud replied. "It's only thirty pounds!"
The tom's amber eyes widened. "That's more three times my own weight! Seriously, what do you have in there?"
The black she-cat shrugged. "You know, just vacation necessities: twenty-six tutus, six bottles of shampoo, seven bottles of conditioner, twelve bottles of flower-scented body wash, ten cameras, five fur brushes, eighty-five fur ribbons, a model of the leaning tower of Pisa, a gondola, my pet hermit crabs…"
"You brought your hermit crabs on our honeymoon?" Scourge gasped. "I thought Leafpool was pet-sitting!"
"Well, she's not," Nightcloud meowed. "Now can we please go somewhere? We're in Paris- the city of love! I want to see the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame, the Arc de Triumphe…"
Scourge stuffed his inhaler back into his suitcase. "Fine, but first we're going to find some food. I'm starving!"
The she-cat nodded excitedly. "Oh, I know just where I want to eat- Le Chateau de Poisson!"
"The Castle of…Poison?" Scourge asked, narrowing his eyes with worry.
"Do you know any French?" Nightcloud asked. "Poisson means fish! Seriously, you have to know the language when you visit a country!"
"You don't know Italian!" Scourge reminded her.
The she-cat rolled her eyes, turning to wave at a taxi driver. "Whatever. We're going to eat where I want."
Scourge stared uncomfortably at the crisp white table cloth, wondering which of the three forks, six knives, and eight spoons he was supposed to use. "Um, Darling, are you sure this is the restaurant you meant?"
Nightcloud nodded, admiring the golden candlestick holder set on the center of the circular table. "Oh yes, this is the best restaurant for cats in all of Paris!"
Studying the dimly lit dining room, the tom wondered if this place was even in his budget. Even the waiters looked fancy- wearing black suits with bowties and red flowers adorning the front jacket pocket. There goes my back account, Scourge thought miserably.
A sophisticated looking waiter padded up to the table. "Would it please you to see a menu, madame et monsieur?"
"Huh?" Scourge mewed, not quite understanding.
"Yes, thank you," Nightcloud meowed politely, taking the menus from the waiter. She glanced down at the list of food. "Oh my, everything looks wonderful! I'll have the shrimp and the steak and the lobster and the chicken!"
Her mate studied the menu, which was written entirely in French. "Um…I'll have this," he meowed, pointing at something in French.
The waiter, scribbling Nightcloud's lengthy order, glanced down at Scourge's paw. "You want 'seafood prices subject to change without notice'?"
Scourge swallowed, feeling embarrassed. "Oh…no. Uh, what do you recommend?"
"I can bring you the chef's best dish, if you'd please," the waiter responded.
"That would be fine," the tom meowed, trying- but failing- to find it on the menu.
"Excellent choice, monsieur!" the waiter exclaimed. "I'll have your meals out shortly."
Nightcloud glanced at her mate. "You should have studied your French before coming."
Scourge shrugged. "You ordered in English."
"But I could read the menu! I knew what I was ordering!" the she-cat snapped.
The waiter padded back to the table, pushing a cart loaded with the couple's entrees. "La crevettes, le steak, le homard, et la poulet pour la dame et la speciale du chef pour el monsieur."
"Merci, monsieur," Nightcloud meowed, staring down at her four dinners.
Scourge stared down at his, not sure what he was looking at. "Um, waiter, what is this?"
The waiter sighed with obvious exasperation. "La speciale du chef is grilled octopus, baked lamb brain, and fried cow tongue served with grilled grapefruit and quail eggs."
The tiny black tom wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Oh, that sounds awful! Just bring me some macaroni and cheese!"
"Insolent uncultured mousebrain," the waiter mumbled, turning away from the table.
Nightcloud glared at her mate. "Now look what you've done! You offended him! Now he'll probably bring you dog food."
"That would be better than this garbage," Scourge growled, shoving his plate away.
"Voulez-vous quelque chose pour le dessert?" the waiter asked, clearing away Nightcloud's empty plates.
The she-cat nodded enthusiastically. "I'll have la glace chocolat et el pain chocolat."
"Et vous?" he meowed, glaring at Scourge.
The tiny tom nodded. "You got any ice cream?"
Nightcloud heaved a loud sighed. "That's what I ordered! Gosh, you're so embarrassing!"
Scourge felt his eyes water. "I'll…um, just have what she's having."
The waiter nodded and padded toward the desert cart. He gave Nightcloud an elegant glass dish filled with creamy chocolate ice cream and a light, fluffy croissant oozing with melted chocolate. Glaring at Scourge, the waiter slammed down a bare, plastic plate with an oreo on it. "You do not understand our language, so you get no French desserts!" he hissed. "Oh, and here's your bill!"
Taking the thin piece of paper from the waiter, Scourge's eyes widened with horror. "Crevettes are $40, the steak was $25, the homard- whatever that is- was $60 dollars, and the poulet was $25! The special dinner thingy was…$170! That's insane! I'm not paying that!"
The waiter scowled at the tom. "It's only $50 for cats who don't anger me. You're just lucky to have such a nice she-cat with you. Because she understands French I didn't add the dessert to your bill."
"How much would that have been?" Scourge asked.
"Only $10," the waiter meowed. "Your total comes to $330. It could have been only $210, but you're annoying."
"That's not fair!" the tom cried. "I demand to have my bill reduced!"
Nightcloud glared at her mate. "Just pay it already! Haven't you embarrassed me enough?"
"No! I refuse!" Scourge spat.
The waiter sighed. "Fine. I'll tell the chef- and the police- that you'll be doing dishes for the next seven days."
Scourge's eyes widened. "What? This is my honeymoon! I can't spend it doing dishes!"
"You should have thought about that before refusing to eat the chef's special!" the waiter hissed. He motioned his tail toward to police cats standing at the doorway. "These lovely gentlemen will take you back to the kitchen and show you what to do."
The police cats roughly grabbed Scourge and yanked him from his chair. Without a word, they hauled him back toward the kitchen while he screeched in fury.
"Now what am I supposed to do for the next week?" Nightcloud sighed.
The waiter smiled. "Your mate dropped his credit card. I'd recommend staying Hotel de Chat Royale, the most expensive hotel in all of France. Don't forget to take the $400 trip and tour to the Palace of Versailles. Your mate will surely be sorry he missed it."
"I'm going to make him miss his money more…" the she-cat mewed, giving the credit card a sinister smile. "How do I get to the Champs- Elysees? I think a major shopping spree is in order."