Take two for chapter three! Meh! Here goes!

Disclaimer: I don't own Cats, Teazer or Plato. I do however own what Plato is and what happens to him and Teazer!

Teazer

I can't stop thinking about him.

It's so hard.

I wonder if he knows I like him.

Probably.

He seems quite perceptive, unlike the other toms.

I wonder if he likes me back.

Hard to tell.

He doesn't really say anything and he spends so much time in the shadows that it's almost impossible to see him.

I suppose I could ask him.

But I don't want him to flinch and shy away like he normally does.

I just want to get to know him better.

But it's almost like he doesn't want to know anyone.

Like he's happiest by himself.

But I know that's not true.

I've seen the way he gazes wistfully at us when we play our dancing games.

Like he wishes he could join in.

But something's holding him back.

Maybe he can't dance.

Maybe that's why he doesn't join in.

But I know that's silly.

He can dance.

I've seen him do it.

He dances well, better than some of the other toms.

There's a certain grace about him.

Like he's something other-worldly.

An angel maybe.

He could be a guardian angel.

Whenever I'm in trouble or lonely or scared, I look up and he's there.

Never close enough for me to touch.

But there all the same.

Like a guardian spirit, protecting me from harm.

I decide to go and sit on the Junkyard wall.

I sit there sometimes when I'm at war with myself and I need to think.

I think I'll go round the long way.

I need to be by myself.

And I don't want the others seeing me and wanting to come with me.

I just need to be by myself for a bit.

Without Victoria, Demeter, Bombalurina or any of the others hanging around.

And certainly without my brother and his friends tagging along.

Plato

I sit in the clearing near my den.

I'm the furthest from the centre of the Junkyard.

There isn't anyone who lives near me.

I'm all on my own.

Normally I don't mind.

I'm a solitary person by nature.

But sometimes, it can get quite lonely out here.

All by myself.

With no-one to talk to.

I sigh heavily, leaning my chin on one paw.

Everlasting cat, I hate this.

Why can't I just find the courage and talk to someone?

I wish I could.

But I know it's useless.

I'll never do it.

I'm just too shy.

Too shy to talk to anyone.

And certainly too shy to join in their dancing games.

Besides, there's always a chance one of them might find out what I did.

If that got out, I'd die.

Both of shame and by my crime.

The punishment for what I did is death.

It's no good.

I'm resigned to a life of watching them dance.

That will never change.

The others build friendships.

I just build loneliness.

And it hurts.

I just feel so alone.

Maybe if I dance, that will cheer me up.

Dancing always makes me feel happier.

Just because I don't dance with the others, doesn't mean I can't dance.

I just don't do it when the others are around because afterwards they try to talk to me and I can't deal with that.

I'm just uncomfortable with crowds.

I get to my feet and walk into the centre of the clearing.

I have this dance I do when I need to cheer myself up.

It's very fast and requires an awful lot of concentration.

But I find it very easy.

Tricky steps are something I've always been able to get my head round.

And as for dancing fast, well, for me that's as easy as breathing.

Yes, I think I'll do that dance.

I take a deep breath to calm myself and begin to dance.

Everlasting cat, I love this dance.

It involves a lot of leaps and turns.

I like leaping.

It makes me feel light and free, like a bird.

Like I could soar across the skies forever.

It also has a lot of acrobatics.

None of the others can do acrobatics the way I can.

Not even Pounce and Tumble.

Not that I would ever let them see what I can do.

They'll never know what I'm truly capable of.

Teazer

I stiffen as I hear the others nearby.

I don't want them to see me.

I don't want to spend time with them now.

Maybe later, but not now.

I need time to myself.

I slip off in the other direction.

I think I'll go round the other way.

As I pass the clearing furthest from the centre, I notice movement out of the corner of my eye.

I stop to watch.

Alone in the clearing, with no-one else around, someone is dancing.

As the dancer turns slightly, I catch my breath.

It's him.

Dancing by himself, but dancing amazingly.

So he can dance.

I was fairly sure he could.

I abandon any thought of sitting on the wall and thinking.

I just want to watch him dance.

It's quite a difficult looking dance that he's doing and very fast.

He seems perfectly at ease with throwing himself out of turns.

His leaps are amazing though.

High and elegant.

Having long legs is an asset when leaping, I suppose.

I watch him, catching my breath slightly whenever he executes a particularly tricky move.

There's a lot of acrobatics in the dance.

Tricky acrobatics, that I don't think even Pounce and Tumble could do.

He turns a backwards walkover then slides into second splits.

Placing his hands on the ground he pushes up and ends up in a perfect handstand.

Then he brings both legs over his head and stands up.

I can't help myself.

I clap.

Plato

I can tell she's watching.

I can tell she's standing there, watching me dance.

But I don't care.

As I dance, I feel my worries disintegrate as I concentrate on landing my jumps neatly.

There's nothing quite like dancing.

It really helps me forget about everything except the steps.

I know she's watching but I don't care.

I'm happy and besides, she doesn't have any of her friends with her.

It's just her.

I just want to wash away all my fears and worries and dancing helps me do that.

So what if she watches me.

As long as none of the others come along and watch, I'm fine.

Perfectly happy.

Dancing alone.

By myself.

She's so quiet; I can just about ignore her.

And concentrate on dancing my worries away.

Like I always do when I'm upset.

And it works.

It really helps.

I finish the dance with a particularly tricky handstand maneuver that one of my alleycat friends taught me.

I stand up and bow towards her as she claps.

Teazer

As he finishes his dance, he turns towards me and bows.

"You might as well come out Teazer. I know you're there."

I step cautiously into the clearing,

Plato gives me a curious look then turns another backwards walkover.

Then he relaxes.

"Can I be of assistance to you, Miss Teazer?"

He sounds so formal that I can't help dropping a neat curtsy.

"Why, Master Plato, I was just going to sit on the wall when I happened to notice your fine dancing."

Plato flushes slightly, ducking his head and muttering,

"It's not that good."

I step closer, cautiously, waiting for him to shy away and run.

But he doesn't.

He stays put.

He looks like he's studying the ground but I can tell he's watching me out of the corner of his eye.

Judging me.

If I get too close, he'll run.

He always does.

I stop a reasonable distance away and hold my hands out in a 'peace' gesture.

Plato eyes me curiously,

"Peace? Really?"

I shrug,

"Usually you run."

He sighs,

"I'm tired of running. I run so far and yet it does nothing."

I stare at him, confused, and he laughs,

"Just ignore me. I ramble sometimes."

He laughs again.

He seems freer, somehow.

Lighter.

Like he's been freed from a prison.

And I wonder at the change.

Not that I'm complaining.

I kinda like this new, more talkative version of Plato.

Plato

I really shouldn't be doing this.

It goes against everything I've been taught.

I tense instinctively as she moves closer.

Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to run.

To hide.

To abandon any hope of making friends.

But somehow, I can't.

Something's making me stay.

Maybe I'm tired of being lonely.

Maybe I just want someone to talk to.

But it's more than that.

It's almost like she's the one keeping me here.

Rooted to the spot.

Scared stiff and unable to move.

To run.

She moves a little closer and this time, the fear wins out.

I run.

I can't help it.

It's instinctive.

I've been doing it for years.

I run.

Teazer

When he bolts, I flinch.

I knew I'd overdone it.

He's so shy, so delicate.

He's impossible to get close to.

But I think I'm closer to gaining his trust.

He stayed for a while.

He only ran when I got too close.

Maybe he's getting better.

Maybe one day, I'll be able to have a proper conversation with him.

Without him flinching.

I turn and walk back towards the centre of the Junkyard.

Towards my friends and my annoying brother.

As I leave the clearing, I glance back.

He's sitting on one of the piles of junk, watching me.

And I know this time, as soon as I come anywhere near him, he'll run.

Like he always does.

No second chances.

Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.

yay! Done! Chapter 4 should be up soon-ish. (shifty glance) I am writing it. I'm just starting Year 10 and all the teachers are telling us is:
you'll be in year 11 next year (like I don't know that)
the work's going to get harder (well, duh!)
you're halfway through high school (I know and it's scary)
etc, etc.

Yours fearlessly, faithfully and truly
ACDxx