Coricopat rose early the next morning, getting dressed before exiting his bedchamber. He knelt and lit a small fire in the grate and then turned to clear the tea things from the night before. He took his time in the kitchen, washing the tea set as quietly as he could and then setting about making some breakfast.
Mistoffelees had been awake for a while, having not slept well for numerous reasons. When he heard the other moving around, he rose, trying to smooth his clothing out enough to be presentable before entering the kitchen quietly.
The lawyer glanced up as he came in, "Is there anything in particular I can get for you?"
He shook his head. "No, whatever you might have already been making will do fine."
Coricopat inclined his head in acknowledgement of that, finishing his preparations and dishing up breakfast for both of them, offering one of the plates and a set of utensils to the black tom.
"Thank you," he said quietly, looking around and finding the small table. Well, small compared to where he ate his meals.
"Of course," Coricopat settled down across the table from him, turnign his attention to his own breakfast.
Eating quietly, as he was accustomed too, Mistoffelees would glance up from time to time to consider the cat across from him.
Coricopat finally finished his meal and rose, "If you'll excuse me, I need to be heading to work. You're welcome to stay a bit longer, should you like."
"Thank you, but I should see if I can go home now, and get a change of clothing," he replied quietly.
"Alright, as you wish. Good luck. Good day to you."
"Thank you. Have a good day as well," Mistoffelees said with a nod. "Thank you for breakfast and well, everything."
"Of course. It was no bother."
Mistoffelees' mouth twisted up. "Of course not. Good day to you then."
Coricopat touched his brow in lieu of the hat he had yet to grab and slipped out of the kitchen, locating his overcoat and hat before leaving for work.
Mistoffelees remained sitting for a while, and sighed when he realized the longer he waited the most people would be on the streets. Rising, he closed the door behind himself on the way out.
Tumblebrutus stepped out of a shop, heading toward his carriage and very nearly collided with Mistoffelees, "I do beg your pardon, I wasn't watching where I was going. Terribly sorr-Misto?"
"Tumble," Mistoffelees all but squeaked. "You're out early."
"I...yes, I suppose I am. Though, by that token so are you."
"Well, yes," he said, running a paw through his headfur. "That is true."
Tumble looked him over, "Where are you coming from in such disarray?"
Mistoffelees opened his mouth to reply and realized how he looked and realized he had no excuse. "I..."
His friend shook his head and motioned to the carriage, "Care for a ride?"
"Please," Mistoffelees managed.
Tumblebrutus offered him a bit of a smile and stepped into the carriage, settling on one of the seats and watching as the other joined him. He spoke once the door had closed and the carriage had started on its way again, "So where were you coming from, and where did you leave your hat?"
He realized his brain shut off when he panicked so he opted for honesty. "I left my hat at home and I was coming from my lawyer's house."
Tumble's brown gaze swept over him again, "From your lawyer's house?"
Mistoffelees took note of the look and his ears flickered back, his posture showing the fact he was blushing more than the dark fur on his face allowed. "Yes?"
"Is there any elaboration going on with that?"
"Yes?" he offered. "I had to spend the night there last night. My uncle and I got in a fight."
Tumble's expression turned sympathetic, "Sorry to hear that. Are you doing alright?"
He nodded. "I hope so. I will need to speak to my uncle this morning."
"Good luck with that. Perhaps get cleaned up first?"
The smaller tom nodded quickly. "Yes. That is the first goal of this morning. Thank you ever so much for giving me a ride."
"Of course. I was going in your direction anyhow."
"Still, it means less people see me in my rather... hatless and disheveled state."
"Very true. The assumptions that could arise from your current appearance are...rather extensive."
"I'm not sure I even want to know," he muttered. "I'm sure the word affair would be tossed around quite a bit."
"Very much so. I am curious why you ended up at your lawyer's home though."
"Because I figured he did not have a father who would tell my uncle, nor servants to spread the story about town. I knew where he lived through chance," Mistoffelees replied.
"I suppose that makes sense." Tumble leaned back in his seat, "What have you been up to of late?"
"Because being kicked out?" he shrugged. "Not much of late. Yourself?"
"Not much..." his mind briefly flickered to that evening at the theatre but he ignored that.
"Sounds about right," Mistoffelees sighed.
"I suppose it could be worse, hm?"
"Yes, things could actually be happening," Mistoffelees replied.
"Exactly," Tumble agreed with a quick nod.
The carriage pulled up in front of Jones' front door. Glancing over, Mistoffelees offered his friend a smile. "We'll have to get together soon when I'm not in such a state of disrepair. Good day, Tumble."
"Good day, Mistoffelees. Pouncival is still talking about meeting at a pub soon."
"I like the sound of that," he said with a smile. "I know he's your cousin, but in a few days you shall hopefully understand why I do not want to see Plato right now."
Tumble offered a faint smile, "Probably, but I tend to avoid him often enough myself. I'll mention the idea to Pounce again and we'll see when he's looking at."
"Very good, thank you, Tumble," the smaller tom said before slipping out of the carriage.
Tumble watched his friend go before signaling the driver to continue home.
v.v.v.v.
Coricopat entered the law office and hung up his coat and hat, making his way over to the files and finding the current one he was working on before settling at his desk. He offered Macavity a quiet good morning and turned to try and concentrate on his work.
Macavity let that go for a few moments before tossing a pencil over. "Hey there. How was your night last night?"
Cori startled, picking up the pencil and putting it in his desk, "He showed up at my flat."
Macavity blinked. "Huh?"
"He showed up at my flat last night," Coricopat repeated.
"He surely not meaning Quaxo?" Macavity gaped at him.
"He very much meaning Quaxo."
"So, little Quaxo showed up at your flat. Why? How? What happened?" Macavity asked, leaning forward against the desk.
"Anything I say doesn't leave this room, understood?" Coricopat leveled him with a long look.
Macavity nodded. "Of course."
"Apparently he and his uncle had a fight. He came to my flat because he assumed, correctly, that I wouldn't tell his uncle and that I don't have servants who would gossip about it."
"Huh," Macavity managed. "How'd that go?"
"Well, I used the last of my tea."
"For such a guest, yeah that makes sense. But, if you're... well, feeling things and all that how did you handle him in your space?"
"As well as I could. I'm apparently more inclined to keep my thoughts my own in my own home," came the quiet response.
"That's good," Macavity said. "Very, very good. So, he doesn't know anything?"
"Not that I'm aware of. I certainly haven't told him anything that would give him that idea, so far as I know."
"Good," Macavity said. "You think he'll ever do it again?"
"I rather hope not, I don't see a reason for him to," Cori answered.
"Good. Try to keep it that way then."
"It's not as though I have much say in what he decides to do!" The mottled tom protested.
Macavity gave him a long look. "You can send him to a hotel. It's not like he lacks the funds."
"I...suppose that's true," Coricopat deflated.
Sighing, the ginger tabby leaned back in his seat. "Well, good luck I guess. At least you'll be off the case soon."
"Exactly. Thank you again for that, Macavity."
He nodded. "Least I could do. I prefer that than getting you sent into hard labor."
Cori managed a weak smile at that, "Still. I do appreciate it."
He got another shrug in reply. "You're welcome then. Do try and appreciate it."
"I shall," he turned his attention back to his work.
Macavity hummed, and looked around the office before attempting to focus on his own work.
v.v.v.v.
Entering the house, Mistoffelees headed for the stairs, intending to get to his room without anyone noticing him and changing before anything else. Serafine heard motion in the hallway and emerged from her boudoir, "Mistoffelees?"
He just about jumped out of his fur, his tail curling as he turned. "Oh. Mother. Good morning." So much for no one catching him in his rumpled state.
Her gaze swept over him, "Good morning, son. Do you mind coming to speak with me once you've cleaned up?"
"I, yes, of course. In your boudoir or someplace else?"
"The boudoir, please. If you could," Sera answered quietly.
"Alright, I will be done as soon as I'm dressed," he murmured, tail flickering.
She offered him a faint smile before retreating back to her boudoir.
He rubbed a paw over his face and took the rest of the stairs two at a time to get up them quicker. Serafine settled in her usual chair, locating her embroidery to give her something else to focus on.
Several minutes later, a knock was heard on the door, though it sounded possibly hesitant.
"Come in," she called.
Mistoffelees entered, having washing as quickly as he could in the hip bath and dressed. "Mother," he greeted, standing against the door.
"Won't you sit down, Mistoffelees?" Sera spoke softly, uncertain of her footing around the young tom before her.
He paused and finally swept into a seat across from her. It wasn't the nearest, but not the farthest either. "There was something you wished to discuss?"
"I wished to inquire after whether you found somewhere to stay last night, and to caution you to wait for a couple of more hours before speaking to your uncle."
He blinked. "I found a place to stay," he said though he did not expand upon where. "Why would you recommend that of my uncle? I would prefer to be given time to pack if he is going to kick me out again."
"Because he'll be less likely to throw you out after luncheon. Take a private lunch and then approach him after he's eaten his midday meal. As it is, he's still likely dealign with the after effects of last night."
Mistoffelees blinked. "Does he do that often?" he asked cautiously.
"Drink? Yes, unfortunately," his mother sighed, shaking her head.
"Good to know," he said, looking down.
"If you must speak with him the best hours to do so are between one and five in the afternoon. Occasionally a bit later, and sometimes a bit sooner, but those tend to be the most opportune times."
He nodded. "Thank you."
"Of course." She sighed softly, "It is good to see you, Mistoffelees. No matter what your uncle says, you've done well."
His eyes snapped up. "In what?" he asked and realized how bitter that sounded, and yet how much he needed to hear something.
Her ears flickered back slightly at his tone, "In your schooling, in your maturing. You've grown into a fine young tom."
His ears flickered again and he swallowed. "You barely know me," he said, and it bordered on an accusation.
Her ears lowered, "I-I know. I regret that fact."
"Surely it doesn't surprise you though," he replied.
"Surprise me? No. But it doesn't change the fact that I regret it and wish that I could change what happened."
He looked her over again. "What would you rather have done then?" he asked, more boldly than he felt.
She looked up in some surprise at the question, "If everything had gone as I wished? I would rather have lived my life as a merchant's wife and seen my son grow up. Even after your father died I much would have preferred to see you grow up than to have you away at school for your entire life."
"Then why did you bring me here?" he asked in some shock. "Surely you knew the moment you handed me over to Jones it would happen this way."
"What was I supposed to do, Mistoffelees? I was a single woman whose only family was her five-year-old son and her older brother. I had no way to support you on my own."
The small tom looked down again. "Did my father leave you nothing?"
"A shop, but very little expertise on how to run it, and little enough money to keep it going."
Mistoffelees bit the inside of his lip. "I never wanted this life," he said, a bit haltingly. "But now that it's mine, I find I can't seem to give it up."
Sera nodded very slightly, "I know. I'm sorry."
He brought his paws up to press against his eyes for a moment before looking at her again. "You must have loved my father, to run away for him. You ran away from this sort of life."
She looked down again, running a paw over the black velvet trim of her gown, "I loved him more than I thought possible. He was an amazing tom who did everything he could for both of us."
"Did that love, did it make it worth leaving this all behind?" Mistoffelees asked after a moment. He had never heard his father spoken of. He had a few memories, mostly the sound of his voice.
Serafine smiled faintly as she nodded again, "It did. It wasn't easy learning a new life, but it was worth it. I wish there had been more time, that you could have really known him."
"So do I," was the faint reply.
"He would have been so very proud of you," she said.
"I have done nothing worth making anyone proud," he glanced away, bitterness creeping into his voice.
"I don't believe that."
"Then name one thing," he said. "I have a first rate education and no inclination to do anything worth doing with it. Any inclination in life I might have had has been buried beneath years of duty. I ask my uncle to reconsider engaging Victoria to someone I can only consider a monster and spend the night with my lawyer for lack of alternatives after he threw a bottle of bourbon at my head. I've had no successes, and have helped no one."
"But you have tried. Good Lord, how you have tried. There are many cats who would stand by and do nothing should they hear of Victoria's engagement. And just because you don't wish to go into politics does not mean you have no inclination to do anything worth doing."
"Trying does no one any good," he said. "I can try, and try, and achieve nothing."
"But if you never try, there's absolutely no chance of succeeding."
"No, but it hardly makes for a successful life."
"Would you rather never try?"
"No. But I would like to be able to actually be successful at some point in my life."
"You will be. You're not trapped in a permanent rut of disappointment. I wish you could see that. You have so much potential."
For a long moment he considered that, bowing his head rather than replying with another bitter reply. "Thank you," he said finally.
She sighed very softly, but nodded finally, "Always."
"Thank you, also, for the warnings about my uncle."
"Of course. Good luck, Mistoffelees."
"To you as well," he said, finally rising.
She inclined her head, "Good day."
"Good day to you as well," he said, all but repeating what he said early. Opening the door, he gently closed it behind him on his way out. She watched him go, sighing slightly as she returned to her embroidery.
v.v.v.v.
Rumpleteazer looked around the darkened room, hitching her bag a little higher. "We sure this is the right place?" she asked her partner, voice low.
Jerrie glanced around, nodding, "Yeah, if th' map's right then we needs t' get outta this room an' go left. The jewel's're upstairs an' the silver's in th' room next ta this un." He kept his voice quiet as he slipped toward the door.
Trusting him, she followed just as quietly, nearly tripping over one of the stairs on the way up. Biting back a curse, she continued more carefully. When they reached the room, she was thankful it was unlocked.
He slipped into the room, carefully making his way across the room to the jewel box on a vanity.
She looked around, poking through the chest in the room as she waited for him to check the box. He withdrew the jewels, slipping them into his bag. There wasn't enough light to actually examine them here.
"Got them?" she asked.
Jerrie nodded, "Yeah, let's get that silver an' get outta 'ere."
"Works for me," Teazer declared, more than ready to have this job over with.
He started for the door, freezing as a floorboard creaked outside in the hallway. A step behind him, she froze as well. There was a light from a candle also under the doorway and she shot him a panicked look. His green gaze darted around frantically and he motioned her toward a wardrobe to one side.
Moving over that way, she stepped on another creaky floorboard and just about shrieked. The steps outside the door stopped for a moment, backtracked and the door pushed open. Jerrie yanked her with him back into the shadows as the light from the candle illuminated the space they had just been in.
Mistoffelees peered around the room, having definately heard a noise. He'd been sent out to the country house by his uncle, as repentance for the fight of the night before. Looking around, he spotted something he really knew should not have been there. "If you're hiding, you can't be a servant. You might as well come out."
Jerrie glanced at Teazer, hesitating for a long moment before stepping into the light finally.
Teazer followed, looking the smaller tom over. Well, at least it wasn't the Baron himself. Maybe they could knock him out, pawn the jewels and get to America still.
Mistoffelees considered them, a little unsure what to do now that they were out in the light. Glancing at their bags, his eyebrows rose. "Stealing from Jones. You're rather daring, aren't you?"
Jerrie tried to process a response to that, "Well, we ain't really got started yet. We'll jus' put these thin's back, an' be on our way, hm?"
Teazer blinked between the pair as Mistoffelees shrugged. "Oh, don't stop on my account."
Jerrie's brows rose sharply at that before his eyes narrowed, "What do you want?"
"Personally, I'd rather stop now than go to jail later," Teazer said a little quickly.
He shrugged again. "My uncle's wealth hardly matters to me. However, the best silver is usually locked up in the dining room, which is quite a ways from here."
Uncle? Jerrie shot Teazer a look that bordered on panic at that thought, "Good t' know. Well, we'll jus' be on our way then?"
"You might want to try the south exit," Mistoffelees said. "It tends to have even less people. Not that any other exit has more. I'll just be heading back to town."
"Th-thankee." Jerrie still couldn't seem to get his mind around what was going on.
Inclining his head to the lady, Mistoffelees turned and left, not much caring at all what happened to the jewels or the silver.
Jerrie glanced at his partner-in-crime before slipping out of the room and heading for the dining room again. She followed on his heels. "What just happened?" she asked quickly.
"I ain't sure, but I ain't questionin' it. Let's get that silver an' get th' hell outta 'ere. We'll figure it out later."
"Right. Silver. Let's move twice as fast as usual here."
Jerrie nodded, retracing their steps and slipping into the dining room, nodding toward a sideboard while he went to check the other one, "Nothin' with crests remember."
"I know," she said, a little more shortly than usual. "No crests. Nothing to trace us back to this."
His ears flickered a bit at that, but he turned to rifle through the drawers, making quick work of the locks without actually breaking them. She riffled through what was on top before going to the other half of the drawers, throwing anything without a crest into the bag after wrapping it so it would not jangle.
Jerrie finally closed the last of the drawers he was going through, "Y' set, Tea?"
"If you are," she replied. "Shall we?" Her voice was still strained.
He nodded, exiting the room and returning to their original entrance. He slipped out of the window, closing it once she was through and then nodding toward the route they'd taken to get there.
Walking quickly, she slung the bag over her shoulder. After a moment, she glanced back at him. "So, any idea what the hell that way yet?" she asked.
He shook his head, "Beyond Jones' nephew abettin' us stealin' this stuff? No. I do vote we don't tell Macavity 'bout this though."
"No, he certainly doesn't need to know," she said, shaking her head quickly. "The sooner we're done with this the better."
"Y' got that right. Get this stuff t' 'im as soon as we're back in London an' then see 'bout some low-profile work f' a while."
"Ever, perhaps," she said and sighed.
"Mebbe it'll go unnoticed beyond th' nephew? Either way, we'll keep an ear t' th' ground."
Another quick nod from the queen. "He didn't seem inclined to share but hell knows about my ability to read a person."
"Guess we'll see. 'E got a look at us, but that's all 'e knows," Jerrie reasoned.
"London's a big city," she reasoned.
"An ain't no one inclined t' talk t' th' upper crust any longer'n it takes t' pick a pocket."
"Sounds about right," she agreed. "Let's hope that holds true."
"It should. Either way, we'll know if 'e starts askin' around."
She swallowed. "Yeah."
"We might be able t' see 'bout a train back first thin' in th' mornin', rather than that later one we was talkin' 'bout."
"Good," she said. "I'm sorry, my mind is a mess right now."
"Don' be. It makes sense," He glanced at her and moved over, resting a gentle hand on her arm and drawing her closer to his side, "We're gonna be alright, Tea."
"I hope so, because otherwise we don't have much left."
"We got us, an' we got enough t' get by, even get us outta 'ere if we need to."
She nodded, leaning her head against his shoulder briefly. "Yeah."
His arm moved to rest around her waist and he paused, turning to face her, "Y' gonna be alright t'night, love?"
She nodded. "Let's just get back to where we're staying alright?"
The torbie sighed, but nodded, "a'right."
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Things will work out."
He offered her a faint smile, "They always do."
Finally they were back at the town that had once been protected by the Jones' estate back when towns needed protection. Jerrie unlocked and opened their room at the small hotel they were staying. He glanced up and down the hall before following Teazer inside and closing the door, locking it again.
She arched a brow but managed a smile, setting the bag down. "Aren't you supposed to have your own room?" she murmured.
"There's an adjoinin' door," he answered, offering her a sheepish smile.
She grinned, a little more relaxed. "I don't mind."
"Good," he glanced toward the door, reassuring himself of the lock before offering her a matching grin.
Pausing a moment she leaned forward again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her head against his chest. "Next time, we say no to the angry ginger tabby."
Jerrie's arms moved to wrap around her waist and hold her close. He nodded, resting his head on hers, "Yeah. We tell 'im know an' then leave town for a while til 'e cools down."
"Yeah," she said. "He's not so scary when he's not... well, sitting right across from you."
"Yeah. Somethin' tells me 'e knows that too."
"The Baron's always scary." She sighed, nuzzling against his chest.
He nodded, one paw coming up to pet her headfur, "We'll 'ave warnin' b'fore 'e does anythin' though."
"Alright," she said. "Lots of warning. A system even."
"We know our way 'round London better'n 'e does, an' we know all th' right places t' check for information 'bout cats pokin' thier noses round. We'll be alright, Tea."
"Yeah," she said again. "We'll be fine." She leaned up slightly to kiss his cheek. "You are allowed to stay the night however."
He leaned down and kissed her lightly, "Good t' know. Lemme make sure m' door's locked then I'll be back, hm?"
"If you must," she said.
"I'd feel better doin' so." He kissed her briefly again before slipping through the adjoining door and double checking the lock in his room, bracing a chair under the knob for good measure. They'd wake if anyone entered Teazer's room, but the adjoining door was thick enough he couldn't guarantee the same for his. Jerrie stepped back into her room, closing the door behind him.
Having already sat on the bed, she offered him a smile. "Feeling paranoid tonight?" she teased.
He offered her a faint smile and sat down next to her, "Maybe a little." She rested her head against his shoulder, pulling her legs up underneath her skirt. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close, "Love ya, Tea."
She smiled. "Love you too. Despite the fact we're out of our minds."
"Workin' for Macavity y' mean?" He asked quietly for confirmation.
"That. Other things." She shrugged.
He glanced at her, "What sortta other thin's y' talkin' bout, Tea?"
"The fact we're working for Macavity, the fact we took this job... us somedays," she added, but took his paw and held it. "I don't mind bein' crazy usually."
He traced the striped on her paw, offering her a faint smile, "Crazy's usually a good thin'. Though this job might be stretchin' that."
"Let's put this in a different category then and call our usual actions crazy."
"Soun's good t' me," he kissed her temple, "We need t' be gettin' some sleep."
She nodded. Pushing him slightly, she motioned for him to lay down, intending to curl up around him for the night. Jerrie offered her a faint grin and kicked off his shoes, laying back, and drawing her down beside him. Nuzzling back up against him, she purred faintly. He absently stroked her headfur, drifting off to sleep.
... It occurs to me our characters are so broken in this story. Eventually Mistoffelees won't be blase about people stealing from his uncle, really.
And yes, we are shipping Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie in this story. A lot of people consider them siblings but neither of us have ever really bought that. In this story they're 3rd/4th cousins to explain the similar style markings ((Though they're markings are not identical by any means, even in the films)) and working with that. In the Victorian era love between cousins was common, and in fact first cousins often were married. Honestly, it would make the most sense for Jones to marry Victoria and Mistoffelees to solidify the bond between his heir and daughter, but since he hates Misto so much he wants to marry her with someone else. So yeah. But just pointed out that things like that were not uncommon, though the practice was starting to be be questioned by the 1890s.