Chapter seven. :3 In which Misto has a visitor and Luva has doubts.

Sorry this took so long. I'm also trying to work on Railway Cat's Advice, but I want to do this Mungoteazer oneshot, so...you're gonna have to bear with me here.

--

"Hey Mistoooooooffeleeeeeees," I called, my voice naughty and excited. I spotted several cats shooting me glares at speaking so loud this early in the morning as I shuffled along with Jemima in tow, and almost stuck my tongue out. Screw them. I was a queen on a mission, a mission of love! "Where aaaaare yooooou?"

"Right here." I heard his voice sound from the pipe, his tone tired and flat. I spied his white face, framed in thick black fur, poking out of the entrance, so, Jemima still in my grasp, I dragged her over, a freaky-wide grin on my face. Misto's brown eyes seemed to register it was me, and he half-smiled, the expression twisted by the dryness of being awoken so rudely.

"Mr. Mistoffelees, you have a visitor!" I pulled Jemima roughly up beside me and smiled. "Anyway, I'm supposed to do most of the talking, so..." My voice sunk low, and now I almost sounded like a gangster, leaning over the table at an uncooperative victim as a ceiling lamp swung overhead. That would have been so awesome, but I didn't have a table to lean over or a lamp to swing. "...this is how it's gonna be."

"How what's gonna be?"

"Just listen!" My voice returned to its normal tone, which was currently a naughty-queen-demands-your-attention-so-shut-your-face-and-listen kind of quality. Mistoffelees nodded, Jemima looked panicked, and I, as always, looked evil.

I could feel the tortoiseshell straining in my grasp, so I focused most of my strength on keeping her wrist in my paw, feeling my knuckles whiten under the gray fur. However, in doing so I briefly deprived strength from my legs and almost staggered on my crutches like a drunken fool. Note the almost. But I didn't, so give me some credit here, I'm injured.

"Okay." I nodded, still with that 'I'm-gonna-eat-your-soul' grin on my face. "So! Do you know this cat, Mistoffelees?" I jerked my head at Jemima.

"Yes."

"What's her name?"

"Jemima," he responded. "Luvarium, I really don't see – "

"I'm the one asking the questions here!" I snapped. "Keep your mystical mouth shut until I finish." I knew I was being an arse, especially to a cat who was technically my friend. For some reason I was feeling incredibly mischievous today, and I didn't want to ruin it so early. "Anyways, Jemima here would love to have a little talk with you, Misto. Wouldn't a talk be nice?" My voice was expectant. "Wouldn't a talk just make your day, Misto?" I tilted my head to the side a little bit.

"Well, I suppose I could..." Mistoffelees cut himself short. "I'm not doing anything this morning, so...I guess." He offered Jemima a timid smile, and I saw the blush along her cheeks, reddening her pretty features.

"Y-y-y-yeah," stammered the young queen. "I-I'll be right in. I need to..." She looked at me, then behind her, then at Mistoffelees, then back at me and behind her again. What the hell was she looking at? "Uh..." She shifted her hand so she was grabbing my wrist and I was in her grasp (which I have to say I immediately didn't like) and jerked me over to the side, leaving Misto alone and confused in his pipe.

"Luva, I can't do this, I can't do this! How did you get me into this?" Her voice was an intensely nervous whisper. "What'll I do? What'll I say? I don't know what to – "

I stopped her, clasping a paw firmly over her mouth. "Jem. Shut up," I said shortly. "Calm down. You'll be great. Mistoffelees is the quietest tom in the junkyard, he's a fabulous listener." I would know, wouldn't I? "Now, you scurry in there and have a nice talk with our little magical friend and you come tell me about it when you're done. Understand?" She nodded, and I took my paw off her mouth, shaking it slightly out of instinct. "Good." My smile returned, cheery and bright, like I hadn't just given her the best pep talk of her life. Yes. Totally the best. I was just awesome like that. "Now, go get 'em, tiger!" I slapped her hard on the back, hard enough so I almost lost my balance again and Jemima flinched from the blow. Without another word, she scurried off towards the pipe again, leaving me alone.

Alone.

Seemed like I was alone an awful lot these days.

Shuffling back to the medical den (I didn't want to call it "my den," but I was seriously starting to get tempted to), I felt a weird lurch in my stomach again on the thought of Jemima and Mistoffelees. Like I was expecting something, or like I was nervous.

But I never got nervous, and what could I be expecting?

I shook my head briskly. "I probably just need to eat," I said aloud, trying my best to convince myself this was so, urging my stomach to rumble to convince my doubting mind.

Or could it be something else?

Of course not. I chased that idea away like a kitten chases birds. There was no way it was anything else but hunger, and that was that.

--

"Ooooh, sweet Everlasting Cat," I mumbled, leaning back against the wall as I finished my enormous meal. It must have been an hour since I'd sent Jemima to talk to Mistoffelees, and upon my return to my den (Wait, no, not MY den. The medic den. Not my den. So totally not my den.) I'd proceeded to gorge myself on whatever food I could find: turkey legs, mice, birds, assorted garbage from restaurants, stale bread...all of which I could find conveniently outside, just by simply doing a bit of looking. Of course, my legs weren't used to chasing mice and birds, but I figured some exercise wouldn't kill me. And what do you know, I wasn't dead, so it couldn't have been that bad.

Anyways, after my meal I felt fatter than Misto's Uncle Bustopher, so, patting my stomach, I decided I should probably start wearing off these calories through another visit. Wasn't I just the little social butterfly today. Gag me.

As I moseyed out into the sunlight once again, my dark and ashy fur relishing in the sunlight that it hadn't seen so much in nearly a week, I spotted Jemima running towards me, a big grin on her face almost worthy of...well, me. But not quite, because I grin bigger than that.

I couldn't feel the jump in my stomach when I thought about what she'd been doing for the past hour and a half this time, which I contributed to the fact it really had just been hunger pangs, but knew my stomach was too bloated for me to tell right now either way. Still, I disregarded the idea and met her with arms as open as I could manage on crutches. She ran up to me and almost hugged me, seemed to remember my ribs were broken, then leaned forward and lightly hugged me around the shoulders. Her brown eyes gleamed with merriment, and I smiled at her, feeling doubt seep into my mind like poison, cold and spiteful.

"It was so great, Lu! You're right, he was totally nice and smart and listened to me the entire time! And get this; before I left, he said we should do it again sometime!" For some reason, I felt my heart in my feet for a moment, but masked it with an even wider smile.

"That's great, I'm so happy for you!" I'm such a liar. "When're you going to go see him again?" Don't.

At that point I decided my private thoughts could take a trip to Ant-freaking-arctica, because I didn't want to hear them.

"I'm not sure. Maybe a few days from now, I want to think of what to say. I want to be more prepared next time." She beamed, then turned and trotted off. "Thanks so much, Luva!" she called over her shoulder, and I kept smiling until she disappeared behind a pile of junk; then it flew off my face like a bird.

Why aren't I happy? I should be happy! I should be elated! I thought to myself. I bet I'm probably just jealous because Mistoffelees is my friend, and I want to spend more time with him. Yeah. For once, I actually made sense to myself. Of course! I wanted to hang out with Misto more, so I was jealous Jemima was taking up his time.

I should just go talk to my tuxedoed friend some more and I'll be dandy. Yeah. That'd totally solve all my problems, right?

But wait, no. Mistoffelees really wasn't much of a fervent conversationalist, and he'd already chatted with Jemima recently...I didn't want to seem intrusive. I should wait.

The next name that came to my head was Electra, but I discarded that one, too; for some reason, I was a bit shaken up right now, and the last thing I needed was Electra hinting at me and Pouncival.

Pouncival.

That was it! I'd go talk to Pouncival!

Satisfied with myself, I made my way towards the den where the young toms were usually found – whether this was particularly smart or not I had yet to find out, but I doubted it was dangerous for me. After all, I'd been through a Macavity scare and lived to tell the tale, right? What could be scarier than a huge ugly-ass ginger cat bitchslapping you and calling you nasty names?

Immediately, my mind thought one word.

Love.

And I couldn't disagree, because I knew that I would take the huge ugly-ass ginger cat over love any day. Any day at all.

Would I?