Mistoffelees glanced around the cafe area, fiddling with his cup of coffee while waiting. Coricopat entered a couple of minutes late, moving quickly over to the table, "Terribly sorry, got caught up with some concerns at the office."

"It's fine," Mistoffelees replied, tilting his head back to smile at him. "Did you bring the papers.

"I did," He offered him a faint smile, sitting down and withdrawing the right paperwork from his briefcase.

Setting the coffee aside, Mistoffelees drew the papers to him, offering Coricopat a soft smile before it changed slightly. "Don't get distracted," he said quietly before bowing his head over the words.

The solicitor chuckled, "I'm sure I can avoid that for now."

"Good," Mistoffelees murmured. "How are you faring this day?"

"I'm doing quite well, actually, and yourself?"

"Well," he replied. "A bit busy but well."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Coricopat picked up the menu, glancing over it, "How long do we have today?"

"Hour, or so," he replied, not wanting to take his eyes off Coricopat long enough to look at the menu. "It's not much today, but tomorrow I might actually be able to sneak away."

"If it's possible that would be delightful. I've the afternoon tomorrow, considering the weekend."

"Do you think if I snuck into your house I could manage to stay a couple days at that point?" Mistoffelees asked, with a faint smile.

That earned a smile, "depends on if you would be missed."

"I could just convince Tumble to say I went with him for a few days," Mistoffelees replied. "He's heading to the country to do a few things."

"Well, if you think that would work I see no reason against it."

"Could see if I could pull it off," Mistoffelees replied, finally looking at the menu. "So long as you were stocked enough that I didn't have to go outside."

"I shall see to it to the best of my abilities," Coricopat replied, finally setting the menu aside.

The black tom was smiling fondly at him across the table. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?" he murmured.

That garnered a small smile, "Is that a good thing?"

"I think it's an insane thing," the Baron's heir replied.

"But is insanity always bad?" his solicitor pressed.

"Maybe not," Mistoffelees replied, pulling at the fork on the table. "Until it crashes and burns and tears itself apart it's not a bad thing at all. I'm just frightened it could become one."

"Then we do everything we can to keep it from becoming one. I'm not willing to lose you, Mistoffelees."

"Thank you," he said softly after a moment of watching the other. A shadow fell across the table and Mistoffelees glanced up, fully expecting it to be the waiter and nearly froze when he saw it was Plato instead.

"Mistoffelees," the patched tom said with a small leer. "Having lunch then?"

Coricopat looked up at the patched tom, one eyebrow arching at the sudden appearance. He kept his mouth shut, waiting for an introduction.

"A business lunch," Mistoffelees replied.

"Please," Plato said, pulling a chair out and sitting, Mistoffelees' hazel eyes widening. "Our kind don't have business luncheons. Who's this then?"

The black tom looked like he wanted to do anything else but introduce them. "Coricopat Zimmerman, this is Plato Philipson. Plato, Mr. Zimmerman."

Coricopat offered Plato a cordial smile and offered his paw, "A pleasure, Mr. Philipson."

Plato looked him up and down, not offering his paw in exchange. "Oh. He is a business person, isn't he?"

"I said it was a business lunch, didn't I?"

The solicitor withdrew his paw, managing not to frown at the patched tom when what he really wished to do was throw the young lordling out on his ear.

"How philistine of you," Plato said, giving Mistoffelees a feral grin. "I expected better of you, that associating with the lower classes."

"Solicitors are hardly lower classes," Mistoffelees said, scowling.

"No, you're right, lawyers are entirely a class all their own," Plato said.

That garnered a tight smile from Coricopat, "Often we are simply dispossessed siblings of our esteemed lords."

"Please," Plato waved a paw in dismissal. "The sons worth anything go to India."

"Yes because being productive within the borders of a country one loves is a worthless ideal," the mottled tom murmured.

Plato's smile just became colder. "It's better than being considered another species, don't' you think?"

"Lawyers are hardly-" Mistoffelees started to protest.

"Hush," Plato waved a paw at him.

"We are a different ilk than other cats, but I can hardly admit to being ashamed of that, as we are necessary for your lives to run smoothly," Coricopat responded, coolly.

Plato chuckled low at that before turning back to Mistoffelees. "I assume you shall be attending the wedding in two weeks? It is supposed to be the last worthwhile event of the season."

"Only because it is far after the normal season ends," Mistoffelees returned. Coricopat glanced between the two but turned to see if he could spot a waiter.

That just got another laugh from Plato. "You sound like you don't approve."

"It is a quick marriage," Mistoffelees returned. "And you know I don't."

The solicitor finally glanced back, "This is your marriage to Victoria Jones, correct?"

"Of course," Plato said, sounding huffy a lawyer had spoken to him. "I am hardly marrying more than one queen."

"I wish you would marry another," Mistoffelees muttered.

"Aren't you excited to welcome me into your family?" Plato drawled. "You used to be so fond of me."

"It does seem rather a short engagement," Coricopat sipped at his water glass.

Plato scowled at him again. "It is all that is needed, once the paperwork is complete. Isn't paperwork the only thing you need to worry about?"

"There are usually other things that are helpful. Legally, yes, paperwork is what needs to be worried about, but most cats are more than figures and words on a page."

Plato rolled his eyes at that, turning back to Mistoffelees. "Where did you pick this one up? You used to have such good taste."

Below the table, Mistoffelees' tail curled up. "You mean yourself?"

"But of course," Plato smirked. "It's been such a long time since we had a good chat together."

"I wonder why," Mistoffelees drawled, not a question in the least.

Coricopat glanced between them, the conversation echoing eerily to the one he'd had with Franklin.

"Because you forget who your friends are?" Plato replied.

"Or I learned who they are," Mistoffelees snapped in reply. "Which is not you."

Coricopat cut in again, "Are you here to meet with someone, Mr. Philipson?"

"No," he replied. "Just for lunch." He didn't even ask if they minded.

"Well," Mistoffelees said, rising. "I believe there is business we must deal with, Mr. Zimmerman?"

The mottled tom nodded slightly, rising as well, "I do believe so. Best to do it in a different venue, I believe, Mr. Quaxo."

Mistoffelees nodded, looking at Plato. "I'm sure I will see you soon," he said, noticing Plato's smirk.

"Oh, I'm sure," Plato replied, inclining his head and picking up his menu.

Coricopat gathered up the papers and slid them into his briefcase, "Good day to you, Mr. Philipson."

He waved at both of them, still smirking. Mistoffelees glanced once at Coricopat before turning quickly to leave.

The mottled tom followed him out of the restaurant, "Well, that was interesting."

"Hm," Mistoffelees hummed. "If you would like to put it that way."

"What was he to you?" Coricopat murmured, glancing at the other tom.

"The tom about to marry my cousin who was an old school friend," Mistoffelees replied. "There is really nothing more to say. We might have been friends at one point."

The mottled tom's ears flicked back at that, but he finally nodded, "Very well."

For a second the black tom glanced up at him and back away. "You really don't push things, do you? For all your honestly and your profession I keep thinking you're going to."

Coricopat glanced at him, "Do you want me to push? I cannot deny I wish to know. And frankly feel I have some right to know, though the street isn't the best place to discuss it."

"No," Mistoffelees said, looking across the way. "I suppose the street is not." He wanted to reach out, touch the other tom and reassure himself but kept his paws firmly in his coat pockets instead. "I just," he paused at a corner and looked back at the mottled tom. "It's hard. It's not something I've ever discussed before."

Pulling his coat a bit closer about him, the taller tom shook his head slightly, "I don't doubt that." He sighed, "Will you tell me though?"

"Maybe," Mistoffelees admitted. "If my resolve lasts me until we're in private."

Coricopat nodded and hailed a cab. He hesitated when a growler pulled to a stop in front of them. Glancing at the man beside him, he opened the door of the cab and waited for the other to enter before giving the cabbie his address and joining the other. It gave Mistoffelees the option to wait til they returned to his flat, or to speak in the privacy afforded by the cab.

For a moment Mistoffelees just looked out the window, considering the London buildings that passed them by. "He was my lover, once," he said, trying to make the statement as simple as possible.

"Your," Coricopat drew a deep breath, his gaze moving to the window. "Were you ever going to mention this? That your cousin's fiancé just happens to be your former lover?"

"Not if I could help it," Mistoffelees admitted. "He was always a bastard and a scoundrel. It was just easier to handle when he spent his time trying to woo me. Since then his real character has become much more readily apparent to me."

The older tom shook his head slightly, "And now you'll be stuck with him as a relative. He's toying with you about your past relationship, and you just have to take it. It's galling is what it is." At least Coricopat had pretty much always known what he was dealing with when it came to his own past relationship. He had known going in that Franklin was a bastard and it likely wouldn't last and whether it did or not it could easily be hellish.

"Yes," Mistoffelees said, tone short but not because of the other. "Nor can I explain to my cousin exactly… exactly what I know of him or how. So I have to sit back and watch, unable to do a damned thing in the world."

The mottled tom bit back the first several things which came to mind, finally shaking his head, "I'm sorry to hear that. I do wish there was something I could do to help you. Neither you nor your cousin should have to go through this."

Mistoffelees met his eyes from across the cab. "But we are," he said, voice soft.

Coricopat dropped his gaze, murmuring in reply, "I know. And there is nothing any of us can do about it. It does not keep me from wishing that there was."

"No," Mistoffelees agreed with a strained smile. "There's nothing to stop you from wishing and even dreaming."

That earned a faint smile, "Not a thing to stop someone dreaming." He hesitated before moving to sit on the same side of the cab as Mistoffelees, "Do you still take the time to dream and hope?"

"What do you mean?" the smaller said, looking up at him with a frown.

"I mean, what do you dream of? Or do you even bother building dreams?"

The smaller tom blinked at him a moment more, finally cracking a smile. "All the dreams I want to have now are impossible. It's one thing to dream of the improbable happening, another of the entirely impossible. The life I want, with you, is an impossible dream now. I don't know what else to dream of."

Coricopat rested his paw against the other's cheek, "Surely they aren't completely impossible. I mean, a permanent situation of living a life together is an impossibility, but there are times we can take between the two of us, aren't there?"

"There are times," Mistoffelees agreed. "Moments we can have that I enjoy. That I spend the rest of my day longing for. But on a whole? I dream of a life with you, not just moments."

"And perhaps someday we can have the hope of finding a way to have that. But it may not be for a very long time. I love you, Mistoffelees Quaxo, and I'm holding out for that dream, as much of a will o' the wisp as it may be."

Offering him a smile, Mistoffelees leaned against his hand for a moment as the cab came to a stop. "I should let you go," he said, voice soft. "Because if I come inside with you, I'll only miss the deadline for when I need to leave."

Coricopat hesitated before kissing the other briefly, "As I said earlier, I have the afternoon off tomorrow and the weekend immediately following that. If you are still interested in coming to stay at the flat for a day or two."

"I'll do my hardest to come," Mistoffelees said, with a faint smile. "Good luck until then." The mottled tom offered him a wan smile before stepping out of the cab and heading inside to his flat.

The small tom watched the other leave with a sigh, before letting his head thud back against the carriage as it started to roll off again, taking him back to the townhouse. Already preparations were underway for the move back to the country, though Mistoffelees would stay through the winter for the most part, when he was not traveling through his district in an attempt to get votes. Other preparations were underway for the wedding, and quite frankly he wished he could avoid those as well.

But the date was approaching and no cat could or would stop it.

v.v.v.v

The wedding between Plato Philipson and Victoria Jones was the last social event of the season. Some of the older crowd questioned how quickly it had been arranged and put forth, but no one questioned Bustopher Jones' taste in the affair.

The ceremony went off without a complication, the bride a lovely sight to all except one Macavity Hollister who quite hated the wedding dress. She then was whisked off to her new husband's home but briefly before they set out for Italy.

Entering the townhouse that night, Mistoffelees barely made it up to the library before sagging against the back of the door.

Serafine had debated with herself for a long time after returning home from the wedding. Finally deciding that she needed to check in on the young tom she left her boudoir and made her way down to the library, knocking softly on the thick door. She could only hope he was there and neither still out nor in his chambers for the night.

Her son hesitated on the other side of the door before moving to open it. He'd braced himself for either Jones or a servant, and let out a sigh of relief at seeing the queen. "Mother," he greeted softly.

"Mistoffelees," she returned quietly. "May I come in?" Her amber gaze swept over her son, taking note of his appearance and expression.

"Of course," he said, stepping back and holding the door for her. "Can I help you in any way tonight?"

Sera shook her head slightly as she entered, "I actually came to ask you that same question. How are you doing?"

"Bitter," he returned, bluntly honest for once. "I still think I'll wake up and it'll be yesterday and there could still be something to stop this. But there's not and it seems much more final tonight. But I'll muddle through, if that's what you're asking. I'm hardly turning to drink or anything else destructive."

"I should certainly hope you aren't. Turning to drink over this would likely only worsen matters. And I wasn't really asking how you would be doing, but how you are doing. Is there anything I might do for you tonight?" She ran a paw over the black velvet trim of her dress, one of her claws trialing along the very edge of it.

Mistoffelees' eyes watched the movement and he sighed, going back to sit in one of the chairs he'd ordered upon returning home. "Right now I am only angry and bitter, but that can only pass in time. Thank you for the sentiment though. I'm sorry I cannot be more reassuring."

Serafine offered him a sad smile at that, moving over and sitting down in one of the other chairs, "It is no more than I expected, and I hardly came here for reassurance."

Her son arched a brow at that. "Reassurance?" he asked, taken aback by the word choice more than what she meant by it.

She looked at him for a moment, "Is there something the matter with that? I came to see how you were, not to be placated by how you think you ought to be."

"Unexpected, perhaps," he replied after a pause. "I'm sorry."

Sighing softly, Serafine shook her head, "There's no need for you to be sorry, Mistoffelees. It has been a long and trying day, and your reactions are to be expected."

"Thank you then, for coming to check on me," he said, looking over her face. "How do you fare this evening?"

Her façade cracked for a moment as she ran a paw over her face and answered her son honestly, "Not especially well. I worry about her and what sort of life she is entering right now, but I know there is nothing to be done about it and I hate that thought."

"Plenty of that going on now at least," Mistoffelees said with a faint and strained smile before he sighed and rose. "I should sleep," he said. "As should you, probably. I'm sure there will be new things to face tomorrow."

Serafine nodded slightly, rising as well, "There always are. Do try to sleep well, my son." She was certain she wouldn't sleep without some sort of aid that night, but it was better to try than not.

"Good luck, mother," Mistoffelees replied, grasping the situation. "I shall see you in the morning."

Offering the young tom a flickering smile, Sera inclined her head, "I shall see you then. Good night, Mistoffelees." With those words, the lady of the house slipped out of the library and ascended the stairs to her room for a restless night filled with thoughts of her son and her niece and how little could be done for either of them.

And we're back! Sorry for the hiatus to this story, life got out of hand as did our creativity and we're trying to catch up now. We hope you enjoy the new chapter! We did jump over the wedding slightly, but we will check back in with Victoria, Plato, and Macavity plenty in the coming chapters. Thank you all again for reading! Please remember if you want to see more of a story, leaving some reviews really helps your authors feel better as well as motivates them to write faster and better! Thank you all for your time, cheers!