Notes: This is just a notice to say that we are nearing the end of the story; counting this one, there are only between three and five chapters left. Also, NO, knaves, THIS IS NOT A LEMON. Citrus is better reserved to orchards and other writers. Now…
Chapter XXIV: Dreams Mended…Partially…
The first thing she was aware of when she awoke was that she was not lying in her usual bed.
Firstly, the walls of her teapot were hard porcelain, not soft and furry, like a pillow.
Second, her bed, like the walls, were not of fur, but of tea leaves.
Third, whatever she lay against was purring.
About half a second after this last thought computed, she realized where she was, and smiled, instantly settling into a half-awake, nigh-euphoric state of mind.
She was here…with him…
She nuzzled the furry abdomen she lay upon affectionately, feeling her "bed" move up and down as the cat breathed, the soft, velvety pads of the paws covering her protectively warm and comforting.
She tried to recall the events of the evening before, but her hazy mind could find very little of interest outside the basics; after a night of what could only be described as divine passion, the cat had returned to his usual size, cupping his little love against him. Just before the blanket of sleep claimed them both, each managed to simultaneously utter a single, soft, one-syllable word: "Mine."
Now, laying against the cat's belly, she couldn't think of any other place she wanted to be. It was like being wrapped in a giant, fur blanket…that moved…
Absentmindedly, she patted his stomach. Instantly, his even, steady inhalations and exhalations became disturbed. His purrs slowly began to rise in volume, and she felt a light chill slap against her snow-furred spine, making her curl up even tighter against him. She looked up to face him…
In the darkness, all she could see was a pair of glowing blue-green cat's eyes and a wide, knife-toothed grin.
To any other dormouse, such a sight might make them faint dead away, or scream at the top of their lungs.
To her, it was beauty.
Chessur smiled even wider than usual as he peered down at his dormouse.
So, it wasn't a dream…
"Good morning, beautiful," he purred smoothly.
Mallymkun shivered happily.
"Hello, kitty," she retorted.
The cat chuckled. The vibrations were like a massage. Mally giggled and closed her eyes again, laying her head against him and nuzzling his belly a second time. Chessur cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow.
She's almost...cat-like when she does that.
"I don't believe I've seen you so relaxed, love...not recently, anyway..."
Mally opened one eye, but didn't look at him.
"I don't feel 'relaxed' at all," she said. "I feel like...there's bread-&-butterflies flitting about in my stomach."
Chess nodded.
"I know how that feels."
"Literally or figuratively."
"Both."
Mally closed her eye again, smiling just a tad wider. Chessur smirked and leaned in towards her, lapping at his tongue against the top of her head. His stomach let out a tremendous growl as her taste registered in his brain.
He ignored it as best he could, the desire to eat the beauty in his paws long past.
"You are extraordinarily succulent this morning, dormousey," he purred huskily. "Did you cover yourself in strawberries or something before I woke up?"
Mally giggled madly.
"No," she said. "You just woke up with a hungry belly."
As if in agreement, the stomach beneath her grumbled again, causing a slight amount of pain. The cat stroked it with one paw, biting his lip.
"Yes, well, I was so depressed yesterday I didn't eat a bite...it makes sense I'd be starving right now."
Mally just shrugged, reaching out a paw, intending to stroke his cheek...
Then let out a shrill, wordless squeak when she realized she was still unclothed.
Normally, being unclothed in front of the cat wouldn't be a problem...but things seemed...different now. She stared up, her face violet-red, trying to bury herself in his fur.
The cat laughed aloud.
She looks adorable like this...
Probably best not to tell her that.
"Your clothes are over there, love," he said, indicating a corner of the room by the bookcase. "I won't peek."
Mally nodded quickly, jumped off of the cat's empty stomach, and darted over to the bookcase, while Chessur covered his eyes.
"Okay," squeaked the dormouse a moment later, "you can look now."
Chess uncovered his eyes, gazing upon Mally intently, the white dormouse once again dressed in her usual pink blouse, skirt, breeches, and apron, her belt, scabbard, and blade once again in their proper place at her side and around her waist. The dormouse raised an eyebrow, the giddiness of half-asleep-world lost to her now.
"What are you thinking, Chess?"
The cat smiled seductively.
"How truly delicious you look without those clothes."
Mallymkun rolled her eyes.
"If I hadn't wanted last night since Frighetnacht, I would have had you castrated with a tablespoon..."
"Ouch."
"I'm joking, cat."
"I know," said Chess, then added under his breath, "but it would still hurt like henfan..."
Mally smirked.
Then her own slim, cream-furred stomach let out an indelicate growl of complaint of its own. She placed a paw to it and smiled with embarrassment. The cat smirked.
"Looks like my stomach isn't the only one that needs filling," he hissed.
"Apparently. What have you got to eat?"
"Besides you?"
Mally's smile was gone in a flash.
"Too soon, Chess."
"Sorry...seriously, though, I have a few things. I usually hunt for my breakfast, but, due to the nature of the morning, I suppose I can whip up something. I'm not up to the March Hare's caliber, but I don't think I'm terrible, either..."
"Could you make drop-scones?"
"Certainly," purred the Cheshire Cat. He stretched, like only a cat can, his claws extending and then retracting, and rose from his bed, moving over to his stove and cupboards. Mally followed him and jumped up onto the counter beside him as he began to pull ingredients and utensils out.
"Chessur?"
"Hm?"
"I'm not angry."
The cat's smile, which had diminished slightly in width, returned to its usual size. His purrs were louder than the engine of a motorcar.
"I think we had better have breakfast quickly, and get over to the windmill," he said, seeing the rift had been joined once more. "As much as I'd love to keep you all to myself..."
"You selfish feline..."
"True, but you love me anyway."
The dormouse shrugged.
"Anyway," the cat went on, "I'm sure the Hare and the Hatter are worried sick about you...they might be searching the woods as we speak."
"Well, then we'll just have to settle their scrambled minds, won't we?"
The cat turned away from the cupboard, smiling affectionately at her.
"I love you, dormousey," he said simply.
"I know," said Mallymkun, and kissed his paw.
Chessur shuddered with delight at the touch of her lips.
I hope this 'kissing' thing doesn't get old...I can't get enough...