AN: Um. Wow. Been a while, hasn't it? I never meant to abandon this story, but about this time last year, my life got pretty crazy and my fics fell by the wayside. But now they're BACK, and I hope you'll forgive me! While I can't possibly guarantee a regular update schedule from now on, I'll do my best to put out new chapters in a more timely fashion than this.
Excuse the sloppy writing near the end; understandably, I was quite eager to get this done. Also, if you follow my other fic, Dark Side of the Moon, the new chapter of that one will be out by the end of next week, so stay tuned!
-x-X-x-
The sun rose to its peak and then began its descent. As the air began to cool and shadows began to grow longer in the late-afternoon lull, two figures could be seen walking side-by-side around the junkyard just out of view of the main clearing. They were Alonzo and Jemima, taking a stroll together away from the chaos of the rest of the tribe going about their lives.
Jemima's thoughts were hardly with the harlequin tom, though. Instead, she couldn't seem to stop thinking about her encounter with Mistoffelees earlier that day. Only now was she beginning to realize how much she admired the tuxedo tom. She supposed that it was difficult not to admire him – his powers and his dancing were breathtaking, and he had a mysterious kind of charm about him. But that was who he was when he was performing, when he knew other cats were watching. Alone, he was thoughtful and modest, and his charm was no mystery. He wasn't a performer when he was alone. He was just himself. Jemima couldn't help but wonder if any other cats knew about this secret side of the magical Mister Mistoffelees.
Alonzo's voice brought the queen-kit out of her trance. "You're awfully quiet, Jem."
Jemima blinked. That was another thing – Misto was just as quiet as she was. He wasn't afraid of silence and didn't make her feel pressured to speak like Alonzo did. "I always am," she replied simply.
Alonzo frowned. "Yeah, but I like hearing your voice. What're you thinking about?"
"Just . . . just about Misto– uh, Mister Mistoffelees and his situation," Jemima answered after a moment's hesitation. She didn't want to lie, but at the same time, she somehow figured that the harlequin tom wouldn't take too kindly to hearing her call the magician by the nickname he insisted upon.
"Oh." Alonzo shrugged. "Sucks for him, I guess."
The queen-kit ducked her ears at her friend's callous attitude. "You have to feel some sympathy for him," she murmured.
"I never said I didn't," Alonzo returned evenly. "It's the fact that you seem so obsessed with it that worries me."
"Obsessed?" Jemima repeated, taken aback. "I'm only—"
"Worried about him, I know," Alonzo finished for her. "You're great friends now, aren't you?"
"What's wrong with that?" Jemima defended herself. "Everyone deserves to have a friend, Alonzo."
"And Mistoffelees has more than his fair share of friends to choose from," the spotted tom countered. "You saw him at the Ball. The entire tribe wanted to be his best friend once he brought back Old Deuteronomy. He'll be fine."
Jemima looked away. She knew that Mistoffelees wasn't really like that, but Alonzo didn't. How much could she tell him without running the risk of making the harlequin tom upset? "He's just going through a lot right now," she finally explained. "He needs all the help he can get, and not all of the cats who claim to be his 'friends' are able or willing to give it."
"Stop talking like an adult," Alonzo sighed. "It bothers me. Anyway, if he needs help, just let him go to Victoria."
Jemima looked at him in surprise. "Victoria?" she repeated. "But she—"
"She and Misto look good together," Alonzo said simply. "You saw them dancing together at the Ball. They're a perfect couple."
The queen-kit furrowed her brow. "Yes, but Plato—"
She held back an irritated hiss as Alonzo cut her off again with a roll of his eyes. "Plato, Schmato. A guy like him doesn't deserve a queen like her. Besides, he's been acting weird around Vicky ever since the news – you never know."
There was a pause before Jemima answered. She had noticed the strange shift in Plato's behavior that had started up around the same time that Victoria's pregnancy had been made public, but she had merely assumed that it was the rust-and-white tom being nervous about becoming a father. Alonzo did have a point, though – it was impossible to know for sure. Still, whatever it was wouldn't be enough to make the mated couple split apart, would it? "I guess," the queen-kit granted quietly, not sure how else to respond.
Alonzo gave a single nod. "There you go," he murmured. "Now you're getting it."
Jemima raised a questioning eyebrow, resisting the urge to ask exactly what it was she was getting.
Something took ahold of her paw just then; her eyes widened as she looked down in time to see Alonzo weave their fingers together. There was a grin on the black-and-white tom's face when she looked back up at him.
"Besides," he continued in a voice that was suddenly much gentler than before, "why worry about any other toms when you've got me?"
An uneasy feeling opened up in the pit of Jemima's stomach. Wherever this conversation was headed, she wasn't entirely sure that she liked it. "I worry about my friends," she explained. "It's just who I am. There's nothing—"
"Ssh." Alonzo reached across with his other paw and placed a finger over her lips. "That's not what I'm asking. What I mean is . . . well, do you consider me one of your friends?"
The young queen tipped her head to one side in confusion. "Of course I do," she answered. "I always have. Is that bad?"
"No no," Alonzo said quickly. "Not at all." He seemed nervous – an unusual trait for the harlequin tom. "It's just . . . I really like you, Jemima. I like you a lot. I like spending time with you and listening to what you have to say."
That's interesting, coming from the tom who's interrupted me four times since we started talking, Jemima thought. The uneasy feeling was steadily growing inside of her; she had an idea where Alonzo's monologue was headed.
"And I'm glad you think of me as a friend, I really am," he continued. "But the thing is, I've had you on my mind an awful lot lately, and I feel like . . . maybe it might be time for us to take the next step, y'know?"
Jemima froze. If the next words out of his mouth were what she thought they were going to be, she would have no idea how to respond.
Seeing that she'd come to a halt, Alonzo stopped too and smiled hopefully down at her. "So . . . how 'bout it, Jem? Would you like to be my girlfriend?"
She hardly heard the question and hardly needed to. Instead of answering, she stood frozen in shock for several seconds, debating what to do. She did like Alonzo, and did admittedly harbor somewhat of a childish crush on him. He wasn't the most talented, attractive, or smart, but he was sweet. He knew how to treat a queen, and Jemima supposed that was what counted. But try as she might, she just couldn't picture him as "the one".
"Alonzo, I . . ." she began, but trailed off. If not him, then who? She was probably just making things up about Misto. He'd hardly known what to say in her presence, and besides, he still wasn't over Victoria. What was the use in holding out for him? How long would she have to wait, and how disappointed would she be if it turned out she was wrong about him?
She glanced up. The harlequin tom was staring at her expectantly. The offer was there, right in front of her; it would be foolish to ignore it in hope of something better. ". . . Yes," she finally finished, unable to meet Alonzo's gaze. "Yes, I would love to."
-x-X-x-
"I'm just sayin', you gotta stop letting every little piece of news about Victoria get to you." Tugger and Misto were sitting together on the boot of the TSE1, looking out over the junkyard as the setting sun cast everything in an orange glow. Or, rather, Misto had finally decided to show his face to the rest of the tribe and Tugger had decided to join him.
"You can't just keep disappearing and hiding yourself away like this," the maned tom continued. "What's gonna happen when the kitten is born, huh? Or when they decide to have another one, or—"
"Thank you for the advice," Misto cut him off, his voice sharp with sarcasm. "But I'm fine. Really. I've decided I'm going to try to focus on other things – get my mind off of her and move on." Of course, it was Jemima's advice, not Tugger's, that had prompted this decision, but the maned tom didn't know about his encounter with the queen-kit. And knowing Tugger, Misto preferred it that way.
"There you go! I'm proud of you, little buddy," Tugger praised his friend, giving Misto a pat on the back with nearly enough force to push him off the car. That accomplished, he sat back with a happy sigh, clearly pleased with himself. "Wait, what 'other things'?" he asked after a heartbeat of silence.
Misto shrugged. "My friends, my everyday life, practicing my magic . . . just general things." He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh." Tugger's ears ducked awkwardly. "Well, I mean, if you are looking for some way to replace Victoria . . . there are always plenty of other choices . . ."
The tuxedo tom glanced at his friend, who was looking at him with a hopeful smile. As the implication sunk in, Misto frowned. "Not as many as you would think," he replied with a warning edge to his voice. "I'm not gay, Tugger."
"It's not 'gay'!" Tugger protested. "It's keeping your options open!"
"Well, I don't need any options right now," Misto half-growled. "I can manage on my own, I promise."
"Why do you try to make everything about you?" Tugger whined, sounding not unlike a kitten throwing a temper tantrum. "Not all of us can live that way, you know!"
Misto stared at him. I'm the one who makes everything about himself? "Getting your magazines taken away is really hitting you hard, isn't it?" he guessed.
Luckily, before the conversation could drag on any longer, two figures entering the main clearing caught Misto's attention. He quickly recognized one of them as Jemima, but as he looked closer, he noticed that the other one, holding paws with her, was . . . Alonzo?
"I'll be right back," he murmured to Tugger, sliding down off the car. As he headed toward the other two cats, he ignored the maned tom's voice calling after him, "Oh, see, and there you go again! You never learn, do you?"
He stopped once he was within earshot of Jemima and Alonzo. He caught the words "See you tomorrow" in a purr from the latter, who then bent over and kissed the queen-kit on the cheek. She giggled quietly at that and repeated, "See you tomorrow" as Alonzo let go of her paw and gave her a smile before padding off to his den.
She stared after him until he was gone, not even noticing Misto standing there. Brow furrowing, the tuxedo tom greeted, "Uh . . . hi, Jemima." The queen-kit jumped, and seeing her jump made Misto jump too.
Jemima's already wide eyes suddenly grew even wider. She put her paws up to her mouth, and a high-pitched, muffled "I'm so sorry" escaped her.
"Did you, um . . . you said we'd talk later," Misto recalled awkwardly. "Is this a bad time?"
She shook her head. "Not at all – I mean, it is, kind of, but – oh, Heaviside, Misto, I honestly didn't mean for you to see . . ."
"Don't worry about it," Misto told her, addressing himself as much as the queen in front of him. Getting jealous because of this was purely stupid. He and Jemima had had one real conversation, and it was just a few hours ago; how could he have expected that to change anything? He'd seen her with Alonzo many times before. The two had always seemed rather close, and there was no excuse for him to intrude on that. As if to drive the point home, he added, "Congratulations."
A pink tint was now visible coloring Jemima's cheeks. "Thank you," she mewed. "But . . . we can still talk later if you want. Just as friends. If you're still interested."
"I am," Misto confirmed with a single nod, not daring to let any emotion slip into his words. "I guess I'll see you around, then?"
"Yeah," she agreed. "Thanks for understanding. Um . . . good night."
"Good night," he echoed as she hurried away. Then, for a moment, he just stood there, trying to figure out what had just happened. Quickly giving up on that, though, he heaved a sigh and turned to go back to the car. He only got as far as the bumper before he sat down and slumped over with his face in his paws. He knew this was stupid, but he still couldn't silence the little voice in him that was wailing, Not again!
After a few more seconds, Tugger's voice prompted, "How are those options looking now?"
Misto's tail lashed in frustration, smacking against the metal. "Just shut up, Tugger."