During the Ball

the1andonlyofo, thank you! I have to say, your friend sounds pretty cool (and perceptive!) Though I have to wonder how the conversation about my stories got started. "Well, speaking of Misto and Tugger being gay for each other—have you ever heard of mpreg?" ;) Molting Parrot, it's always nice to hear from you, even if you don't think you have anything particular to say. You can just go "HI, LOL!" and I'll be happy. :) HGP, thank you! Here's more for ya, though the focus will shift from Tugger and Misto for just one chapter.

A big thank-you to CrazyIndigoChild for beta-reading!

4. Smiling Alone

(This chapter takes us from "Grizabella the Glamour Cat" to the end of "Bustopher Jones". A quick look at Demeter and Grizabella, before we return to our beloved toms.)

As someone who made a career of barging in and interrupting other Jellicles' songs, Tugger was normally well-equipped to handle interruptions of his own. But this situation was different; it wasn't just Tugger who bristled at the arrival of this stranger.

Before Mistoffelees could so much as speak to or smell the newcomer, Munkustrap carefully but firmly urged him back. It took a few minutes, watching the Jellicles' guarded, cold and nearly aggressive reactions, for him to realize just who this pitiful, scraggly cat was. Demeter approached her, fighting every step of the way between her obvious close feelings for this cat, and her simultaneous revulsion. Revulsion won out in the end and Demeter too recoiled from her, turning her back on the stranger, though it was clear the shunning was hurting her as well.

As Mistoffelees sat from a distance and watched the old, gray queen sing to the dispassionate tribe, he understood. He'd been told about her for the first time at last year's Ball; this was Demeter's aunt, the one who had abandoned the remaining members of her family to their pain after the death of Demeter's mother at the hands of Macavity. Demeter's father, Cyrano, had only found peace after ascending to the Heaviside Layer and quite possibly being reborn as one of Mistoffelees' own kittens, named after the departed tom.

At first glance, he pitied her; she was worn and torn, obviously lonely and suffering. It was strange to see the Jellicles so cold towards her; Mistoffelees had never known them to openly hate anyone or anything aside from Macavity. He pitied her also as he watched Demeter address her in return, though her song would have seemed cruel if Mistoffelees hadn't known the story, if he hadn't seen what she'd selfishly abandoned them to.

Grizabella, the Glamour Cat. He supposed she'd been beautiful once, probably a lot like Demeter. But there was nothing glamorous about her now, nothing in appearance and surely not in character, and so Mistoffelees found himself swept away with the others, singing to this Grizabella as she slunk away from the tribe.

He didn't notice that Demeter had also slunk away, following the old gray cat as she stumbled back out into the darkness of the junkyard.

It wasn't clear where the former glamour cat intended to go. She ambled slowly and gracelessly through the junkyard, probably meaning to head toward the exit at some point. Demeter wondered if she meant to have herself a little visit of her former home, away from the glares of the tribe. She seemed so preoccupied that she didn't hear the tread of Demeter's paws as the golden queen followed her around.

"Grizabella?"

It felt strange to utter her name. In her younger days, Demeter had always referred to her as 'auntie', or 'aunt Grizabella', though now any affectionate title felt wrong.

Grizabella turned to her with a hopeful smile; she looked so grateful that someone had addressed her that it was nearly pathetic. "Demeter? Oh, little Demeter, it is you! I thought I recognized you. You look so beautiful, you've grown into a lovely queen, but I always knew you would…"

"Why did you decide to come back?" Demeter sternly interrupted. "Why now, of all times? And don't say it was because you missed us."

Grizabella opened and closed her mouth a few times, as though it was exactly what she'd intended to say and couldn't think of anything else. She finally sighed resignedly. "I did miss you. All of you. Of course that's why I came back."

Demeter took a step back; Grizabella had been ambling towards her and she wanted to signal to her aunt that she wasn't in the mood for closeness. "You didn't seem to miss us enough to stay or come back when it mattered."

Grizabella stopped in her tracks, any trace of a smile now gone. "I couldn't. Don't you see? It was too hard for me."

"And it wasn't too hard for me?" Demeter hissed. "I was a kitten. My father was alone. We needed you!"

"I saw her, you know," Grizabella softly said. "Your mother. When we all found her, after what Macavity did to her. It… well, it wasn't easy to forget a sight like that. Not easy at all. Leaving was…"

"Easier?" Demeter asked.

Grizabella looked up, a heartbreaking look in her worn eyes. Instead of replying, she glanced wistfully about her, as though noticing the junkyard again for the first time. Demeter had followed her close to the entrance of the yard, near the loose wooden fence boards and an old rusted truck.

"I missed it here," Grizabella said. "Oh, like you can't imagine. The smell of it, everything… there's nothing like it out there, you know. Nothing like the memories I have of this place." She met Demeter's eyes and continued quickly, so as to forestall any more jabs from her niece. "I didn't see Cyrano out there. Where is he? Do you think he'd mind if I wanted to speak to him? I have so many things I'd like to talk about-"

"He went to the Heaviside Layer at last year's Ball."

Grizabella blinked. "Oh. I see. I'm sorry."

"He needed it, after everything that happened to him," Demeter said. With a purposeful sting, she added, "Not all of us were able to take the easy way out and run away."

Grizabella only nodded, unable or unwilling to argue the point any further. She looked thoroughly defeated. "I missed him. I would have liked to… D-Do you suppose he's at peace? In his new Jellicle life, at the Heaviside Layer?"

"Yes," Demeter said. It was tempting to let her guard down to reminisce with Grizabella, but she steeled herself to be hard. "I know he is. A… a friend of mine had kittens shortly after the last Ball. They decided to name one of them after my father. I would like to think he returned to a new life that way. Safe, loved… with no memories."

"Oh, that is nice," Grizabella said wistfully. "Do… do you suppose I could see this kitten? All of them?"

Demeter shook her head. "That might not be a good idea. I don't know if their parents would want you around them. Especially not their father. He remembers you."

Everyone who was around at the time of her mother's imprisonment remembered, of course, even if they were quite young, like Demeter herself had been, and Munkustrap and Tugger and others of their generation. They'd been too young to really understand exactly why Grizabella had left, but they remembered watching and hearing Cyrano cry, a broken tom, and that was enough to spur a surprisingly long-lasting hatred. It was only the kittens of the tribe, most of which weren't even born at the time, who didn't quite understand why they were meant to shun this stranger.

"This tribe doesn't forget or forgive," Grizabella said miserably. "They're treating me like I'm going to scratch their eyes out."

"Can you blame them? They're the ones who had to work to comfort my father, and look after me. How could you possibly expect them to be pleased to see you?" It was a struggle for Demeter to hide the quiver in her voice as she said, "I needed you, Grizabella. Some terrible things have happened in the last year. Macavity, he… well, it doesn't matter. But it would have helped to have you around with me."

Grizabella lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I understand why you came," Demeter said with a small sigh. "But I think it's better that you leave us alone from now on. Things will never be the way they used to. You'll have to settle for your memories."

She'd expected Grizabella to beg or plead her case, but the old cat only nodded sorrowfully. "I would have liked to have danced here again, just once. Do you know how long it's been since I've danced under the Jellicle moon? I can't dance anymore. I haven't been able, not like the old days, in the tribe. Out there… it's not the same."

"Then maybe you should have stayed there."

Demeter turned her back to the old cat, flicking her tail in anger as she marched away. It had the advantage of marking her point, though it was mainly so Grizabella wouldn't see her cry as she walked away.

It was only on the way back towards the clearing, where she heard the distant sound of Bustopher Jones' voice, that another nagging feeling popped up in the back of her mind. Like a presence… a cold, smoky presence, the likes of which was familiar, that she'd tried so hard to forget.

She broke into a sprint as the song ended and a crash resounded throughout the junkyard. Macavity…!

I noticed one day that Demeter crawls off-stage after Grizabella, just before the "Bustopher Jones" song begins. I like to think she followed her for whatever reason, to talk or to make sure she was all right. Demeter's relationship with Grizabella has always fascinated me, since Demeter always seemed drawn to Griz, but then giving in to everyone's obvious hatred.

In any case, thank you all for reading. The next chapter will feature our favourite toms getting frisky again, I promise. ;)