Eleven

Tucker awoke with a start. He recalled his dream, and shuddered. The ginger cat attacking and dragging a small queen from behind him. He could hear the way she'd screamed, it echoed around his mind even now he was awake. "I must be losing my marbles," Tucker muttered, flinging himself out of bed and starting to get dressed, sorting through the mess of clothes on the floor. He needed to do some laundry, but that girl...that girl from the bar, she was on his mind and he couldn't shake it off. She had been so charming, so flirty last night, he adored any girl who actually flirted with him – it meant he didn't have to engage in –real- conversation.

As he fluffed and sprayed his hair into position ready for another day of girls falling at his feet, Tucker also remembered the other girl from the bar. The one who had blown him off the other evening, and frowned. He didn't understand –her- still. She had come around to see Adam. Not him. And when he'd made a move, rather than swooning in his arms, she'd pushed him away. Tucker frowned. That was a reaction he wasn't used to. He thought on it for a few minutes before deciding the girl was either deluded, or else his deodorant simply hadn't been working. He'd have to spray some more on today, and maybe see if that worked. He grinned, perhaps he should go pay her a visit. That way, even if she did blow him off, there was her sister to consider. "Always gotta have a Plan B," he mused aloud to the mirror, grabbing his comb and keys before heading for the door.

Mike didn't sleep incredibly well. Whenever he tried, he heard screams, saw others running, and saw fur and blood. He couldn't piece any of it together, as much as he lay there and tried, inbetween the half dream states he slipped into.

With a laboured sigh he pulled himself upright and glanced around the apartment bedroom. Perhaps he should go and see Adam, maybe talk things over with him. He might be more level headed, he might be able to shed some much needed light on a strange series of thoughts, and events, Mike mused, as he scrambled out of bed and started to dress.

Tucker arrived at the bar, and was surprised to see the door unguarded. From what he'd heard, the bouncer was always at the door. They'd had some weirdo walk in the other day, he recalled, and he'd frightened the life out of the girls, who had been rehearsing inside. Tucker fluffed himself up and cleared his throat. He pushed open the door of the bar, and walked in, making sure to swagger – it enhanced his incredible physique, or so he was led to believe.

But much to his disappointment, the bar was empty. Tucker sighed, and was about to throw himself down in a chair, when the voice behind him made him jump. "Thought you'd come back, huh?"

Tucker turned, and to his horror, out of the shadows slunk the guy who had carted his lady friend off last night, "What do you want?" Tucker asked, with more bravery than he actually felt. He wasn't a fighter. It might rumple his clothes, or worse still, mess up his hair.

"I want you to leave her alone. Before someone gets hurt."

Tucker knew a threat when he heard one, but for some reason it made him angrier than it normally would have done. "Why don't you just clear off and leave these girls alone? I got the impression last night you weren't welcome here."

"Really? Too bad, I'm hanging around for some time. Now, like I said, clear off." He repeated.

"And if I don't?"

"If you don't...well we'll just see what happens to your friends, shall we now? Oh, and of course your brother too."

Tucker flinched, but remained steady, with his chin raised. "Are you threatening the people around me?"

"It wouldn't be much of a verbal assault if I didn't. The physical fight...now - that's- where the situation might get interesting," leered the stranger.

Tucker regarded the stranger for a moment. "Do they even know you're here?"

"Do they know you are?" came the retort.

"No..." Tucker said slowly. "Shit, I'm dead meat." He thought.

"I think you better run along then. Don't worry, I'll take care of things. I'll pass on your regards to the sisters, shall I?" the stranger smirked, and Tucker felt his bravery disappearing rapidly. Without a word, he backed down to the door and left, the laughter of the ginger stranger overpowering every other thought in his head.

Mike arrived at Adam's house and parked his Jeep across the road. He noticed Tucker's sportscar was missing from the driveway, and his brow furrowed, checking his watch. It was 8.58am, he didn't reckon Tucker, from what little he knew of him, to be in the habit of rising early.

He walked up to the front door and rang the bell, and presently the door opened on a yawning Adam, dressed only in boxers and a shirt. "What?" He saw Mike outside the door, and opened the door a bit wider. "Geez, Mike, what is the urgency over waking me up at 9am after a night like that? Tucker was banging on the door at 2am cos he forgot his keys..." he trailed off as Mike stepped past him into the house, "...are you ok?" He glanced back outside and then he, too, noticed Tuckers car missing from the driveway. "Oh shit. Has there been a accident? Is Tucker ok?"

"You don't know where he is? Great," Mike rolled his eyes, "Anyway, thats not what I came over about. I need to talk to you about these thoughts I've been having."

"Oh God. I have been wondering like crazy how to approach this subject," Adam walked through to the kitchen. "Can I get you a coffee, Mike? I could really use the caffeine."

"Yeah coffee sounds good. One sugar. Black." Mike leaned against the kitchen counter. "Look, Adam. I've been having these really weird thoughts." Adam turned to face him while he was waiting for the percolater to finish brewing, and regarded his friend.

"Shoot," was all Adam said.

"Ok, you're going to think this weird. I keep zoning out and having these thoughts about running to save someone. I have dreams, or more specifically, a dream about fur, and screaming, and I cant see anyone, its like I'm blinded, or something...I can hear things going on around me and I cant help."

Adam was regarding Mike as if he'd seen a ghost. "Holy crap dude," he exclaimed. "I keep having thoughts about some girl I'm protecting. There's someone I keep saying I can't steal away. I can recall licking her."

Mike made a face."Please Adam, thats too much information."

"No," Adam put up his hands defensively. "Not like that, nothing sexual. I mean, shes there, in front of me, and...she's wearing fur."

"Classy dame. Real or fake?"

"Real..." Adam went into a trance which he soon snapped out of again. "Mike. I think she was a cat."

Mike blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The girl with the fur. I think she was a cat."

"You –are- kidding, right?" Mike was astonished.

"No. I don't think I am," Adam admitted slowly. "It's only just occurred to me now, talking to you."

Mike laughed, "Adam, you need to get your head checked out."

"You say that," Adam reached across for the newspaper, "Look at this. I've been saving it, should I ever get up the guts to go and investigate it further," he flipped the pages of the paper, and folded it over, handing it to Mike, tapping a article on the page. "This one...it looks really good. And Mike," he said softly, and Mike looked up from reading the page, "If I asked you, would you go with me?"