looong overdue update, school work finally caught up with me.
Nothing much happens in this chapter, its really just a filler in between events.
Quaxo purred quietly as he felt strong arms from behind, pulling him into a gentle embrace. His purr deepened when he recognized the soft feel of Tugger's mane and felt warm lips travel along the sensitive fur behind his ear. As happy as this made him feel he couldn't help wondering how he got here, was he nipped? Was Tugger nipped? His thoughts became a little muddled as Tugger left his ears for time being and began kissing his neck. No, this wasn't nip, this was… better.
He was just sinking into a state of bliss when something sharp and icy ripped him painfully forward and flung him into space. He stumbled onto the floor feeling cold now that Tugger's arms were no longer holding him.
"What do you think you're doing!" a voice boomed in his ear, Quaxo's legs wheeled back and he almost fell over.
"With Tugger? Nothing I, I"
"You liar, you pathetic liar" Quaxo covered his ears, trying to muffle the voice but to no avail.
"There's nothing! I swear, there's nothing going on!" This was more or less true, but the voice was not finished.
"you want him don't you? You want him bad. You're so desperate that you'd conjure up some disgusting love potion to make him fall for you."
"I'd never use magic to get him. Please you have to believe me!" An icy blast hit Quaxo making his teeth chatter. Far off he could make out the small white figure reaching out towards him.
"Mistoffelees!" a tiny voice called out to him "over here!" Quaxo squinted at the figure in the distance; he could just make out a pale pink collar round her throat.
"Victoria? Is that you?" he called out and began crawling forwards. But with every step his legs became heavier and more lead-like. Soon he was reduced to crawling towards the figure that was rapidly disappearing into darkness. "Victoria?"
"Mistoffelees Help me please!" her voice was so much more distant now but he could still detect traces of pain and desperation, or was that in his own voice? Everything was becoming more blurred and fuzzy and swirling round in circles.
"Where are you? I can't see."
"Then open your eyes" Quaxo did so, and found himself in his bed, which felt reassuringly solid and real. Only a dream, no… only a nightmare. He lay there for a few moments trying to remember they detail of his dream, but they were already slipping away from his memory. Shaking his head he lifted himself off the bed and made his way over to Oswald's tank to feed him.
"You know Oswald, I once read this really great book*" Oswald blinked curiously at him "I can't remember for the life of me what it was called; but it had some excellent advice on love." Oswald didn't ask him what it was but he decided to tell him anyway
"it recommends that you avoid it".
-That same day-
The Tipsy Dog was one of thousands of London pubs and totally unremarkable. It had decent food, loud music; sleazy waitresses, carpets stained with cigarette butts, and served pints by the dozen. But what made Quaxo so interested in it was the fact that it was the first place his uncle had mentioned which had suspicious connections. That evening Quaxo went to check the place out. Walking in he navigated around the couples that were sitting at the tables and found a place at the back of the room where he was partially hidden. Ignoring the couple next to him who were playing footsie under the table he gaxed round at the customers till he spotted a group of Toms gathered near the jukebox.
In the time it took him to order a beer he had already figured out why all previous police investigations here had failed. In the first place the talk and the music were so loud that even if you had listening devices it be impossible to overhear a conversation. The second reason was that Macavity's agents didn't 'talk' so to speak. Instead they did business by writing in notebooks. After half an hour of observation Quaxo could see what the basic pattern was.
A customer would sit down in front of the two burly toms who worked for Macavity, and he'd write something in the notebook they pushed forward. After reading it the agents would converse in a separate notebook. This part could go on for quite some time. Quaxo guessed that they were negotiating prices.
Finally when a decision was made they'd write to the customer who would nod and leave. Quaxo noticed that the customer's never complained about the price or asked for it to be lowered, 'would any one dare to?' he wondered. The whole system was simple yet extraordinarily effective. Just the sort of thing that the Napoleon of crime would come up with, Quaxo couldn't help but be impressed.
Except for one thing, the notebooks. They contained an El Dorado of information. If he could only get his paws on them.
Quaxo was extremely glad that he wasn't a policeman. Officers like Munkustrap would have had to request permission to perform a raid in order to steal the notebooks. There would be meetings and drills and endless requests for backup, not to mention all the paperwork.
As it was Quaxo was free to do a grab and run without informing anybody.
But how was he to do it? Quaxo pondered this for some time, his beer lay forgotten on the table.
The really great book is the Hitchhikers guide to the galexy the movie. I have no idea whether the book actually says that or not