Chapter 5: The Investigation

Disclaimer: I don't own CATS. Sad day…

Plato could feel the heat from the sunlight making warm patches on his fur before he saw its light through his closed eyelids. The mottled tom lethargically sat up, rubbing sleep and headfur out of his eyes. Long, muscled arms stretched to their full length as warm, brown eyes opened to the morning before him. He quickly took in the scattered piles of rags under the dilapidated desk that made his den. It wasn't fully closed in, and the sun and the wind could usually get to him, but the desk kept out the rain and the rags made for a warm bed. Additionally, the rundown den kept up with his 'bad-boy' reputation, so there wasn't much to complain about.

After stretching his back, legs, and tail, Plato quickly jumped out from under the desk and down the last few feet of the pile in which his den was embedded. The young tom couldn't help but smile as he glanced at the rising sun and the wispy clouds that seemed to barely crawl across the sky. Today was going to be a lovely day, which was perfect since he was determined to follow through with his plan. Today he was going to be a regular Sherlock Holmes, and begin investigating the strange events that had happened yesterday.

Of course, he had been planning through most of the night. It was clear from Mistoffelees's reaction that he wasn't going to get any information from the magical tom, but he also had to make sure that the tuxedoed tom didn't find out either. This was going to be an operation of the utmost delicacy.

The first step in the plan was to find Jemima. That Victoria had mentioned her during their brief encounter, and Plato knew with the right smirk and smooth compliment that he could make the lolita queen sing. He just had to find her first.

It didn't take much time for Plato to find the petite queen enjoying the rising sun at the top of her favorite junk pile. With swift, powerful bounds, Plato easily scaled the pile. He sauntered the last few steps up the pile as that crooked smile of his played on his lips. "Hey there, chickadee." He purred as he reached the summit and the queen at the top.

Jemima quickly rolled her eyes as if she had heard the most unoriginal pickup like in the yard, but couldn't seem to suppress a kittenish giggle. She quickly leaned over to nuzzle the playboy in greeting, her eyes glinting with mischief. "And to what do I owe this honored visit so early in the morning?"

Plato gave a brief shrug before sitting down next to the queen, his tail weaving an intricate dance in the air. Even though he gave his movements a well studied air of nonchalance, his tail strategically brushed against the queen's black and white one. This was his game, his element. He needed to gather information, and flirting was definitely the best way to get what he wanted.

"Can't a tom just come and talk to his favorite queen, chickadee?"

A soprano giggle sounded again as Jemima shook her head with a look that resembled disbelief. "A regular tom can, but you aren't one of those. And I know you don't have a favorite queen."

A normal cat would probably be insulted by Jemima's words, but Plato couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as she pinned his personality. His crooked grin grew wider as he puffed out his chest. "Well, you are right about me being special."

A white paw made a swipe at Plato's ear, which he easily dodged. "I didn't say that." Jemima purred. "Anyways, what's the real reason you're here? It's usually lucky if we see you before midday." Large, doe eyes stared intently at Plato as a coy smile played on her lips. It was clear that Jemima loved playing these flirtatious games almost as much as Plato.

Plato took a moment to calculate his words. Now was the beginning of this delicate operation. "Well, chickadee, I really did want to talk. The strangest thing happened to me yesterday."

If it was possible, Jemima's eyes grew wider as she leaned even closer. "Oh? Strange?" She breathed, her eyes never leaving his.

Plato could remember that time when Jemima was the new challenge to him. Those times when her coy little maneuvers would take his breath away. However, it hadn't taken long for him to realize he just liked the game and not the queen. It's not that he disliked Jemima, he just didn't like her 'like that'. But it was okay, because it was clear that the feeling was mutual. "Yeah... strange..." Plato paused a moment to think through his words before he decided to to just let it all out. "Ya see, I met this queen yesterday. A real beauty. Her name was Victoria-"

The words were immediately caught in Plato's throat as he realized that the dainty queen in front of him immediately pulled back and straightened. Her smile and the mischievous glint in her eyes quickly faded. It was clear that she was no longer up for playing this, or any type of game.

"What does that have to do with me?" Her voice was short and almost curt as her eyes turned away from Plato and back over the junkyard before her.

"Well, I was wondering who she was..." It couldn't be that Jemima was jealous. That didn't make sense, so what brought about this sudden change?

"I understand, but why would I know anything?"

Plato had never been lost for words in this queen's presence, but he had always assumed that if he was, it wouldn't be because she was mad at him. "Um... ya see..." Was he stuttering? He had to pull himself together! "Well, the lil' queen mentioned your name when we were talking, so I figured ya knew her."

Jemima's gaze narrowed as she seemed to study Plato and the benevolence of his intentions. "She mentioned me?"

"Yup." Plato added with some embarrassment, reluctant to tell her what the context of the name drop was.

Jemima straightened up even more as she continued to study the patched tom before her. "What did you want to know?"

Plato wasn't sure if this was a good start or a poor one, but at least it was a start. "I was just wondering who she was I guess. It's just like she appeared before me, and I've never even seen her before, but she knew who the Jellicles were. All I know is that she's talked to you before and is Mistoffelees's cousin." Plato chuckled as he remembered the encounter, a little bit of his own playfulness creeping back into his voice. "Definitely learned that."

A dry smile toyed with Jemima's lips as her gaze softened. "So he saw you two together? I would've paid to see that."

A silent shrug was her only reply, as Plato hoped that she would continue to tell him more. He needed all the information he could get if he was going to take on this new challenge.

Silence ensued between the two cats as Jemima seemed to be picturing the encounter. After another moment, she finally turned towards Plato. Most of the harshness in her gaze had fled and was replaced with a kind of sadness. "I don't know that much about her. Daddy refuses to tell me a lot of the details, and I was so young back then..."

"Back when?"

A fierce glare met Plato's question, quickly telling him not to interrupt again.

"Anyways, I forget that you are pretty new to the yard. The reason you've probably never seen her before is that she doesn't live here. She's Bustopher's kitten. She lives with him in an abandoned house closer to the city."

Plato did his best to suppress his laugh of disbelief. There was no possible way that that pompous, gargantuan tom who made his morose appearance at the first ball that Plato had attended last year was even remotely related to the beautiful, delicate creature he had met the day before. But then again, that would explain her relation to Mistoffelees. "But you know her, apparently enough to talk to her."

Jemima gave a dismissive wave of her paw as if that was a silly question. "She makes the rare visits to the yard. It's usually kept rather under wraps... I'm one of the few that know when she comes." The small queen's countenance suddenly became contemplative. "Though I wasn't informed this time..."

Copper ears strained forward, trying to pick up every word of Jemima's quiet contemplation. "Why doesn't the yard know? Is something wrong? She did seem rather odd."

With a sudden, violent shake of her head, Jemima straightened up and that sweet smile of hers reappeared. "Look Plato, I really don't want to talk about this anymore. And as much as I hate to agree with 'always-follow-the-rules' Misto, he's right. You should stay away from Victoria." That was clearly the end of the conversation as Jemima deftly got up onto her paws and began to dust the dirt off her legs.

Plato couldn't help but stare at Jemima in disbelief. He had not expected to hear those words come from her. Who was this strange Victoria that he had just met? Why was everyone so protective? They had to know he didn't mean any harm, he just wanted to have fun.

The muscular tom quickly jumped to his paws, making one last, desperate attempt. He took a quick step towards Jemima; they were so close that he had to tilt his head down to look at her and she had too gaze up to look him in the eyes. Plato plastered that cocky, crooked smile on his face as he ran paw along the queen's jaw bone. "C'mon chickadee..." The tom made sure to put extra charm in a velvety purr.

Jemima giggled like a kitten and batted her eyes, never letting her gaze leave Plato's. A petite paw traced a small path down the center of Plato's broad chest as Jemima glanced away, as if too bashful to look him in the eyes. After a sly glance back up at Plato, she purred almost seductively, "Since it's you..."

The shyness little queen's face was suddenly gone and a mischievous grin replaced the demure smile. As soon as her demeanor changed, Jemima used her paw to give Plato a gentle shove in the chest. "Did you really think that would work on me? I practically taught it to you." She snorted, though making sure there was no maliciousness in her voice.

Plato took a step back, slightly thrown off by her playful push. While he hadn't been expecting this turn of events, in the end he wasn't really surprised by them. Jemima had always been the feisty one. Once she caught on to Plato's personality, she had always been ready to playfully flirt right back at him. The two of them were like a more conservative Bombalurina and Tugger who were simply friends and nothing more.

Dainty paws finished dusting the rest of the dirt off of Jemima's legs as she continued to smile to herself. Once her fur was clean to her satisfaction, Jemima turned a playful eye on Plato once again. "However, I know you, and I know you will never leave me alone until you find out what you're looking for... But I have no intention of discussing this any further, ever! So I would suggest talking Tumble, he might be more willing to help you."

Then, with that last statement, Jemima left. However, she did make sure that her hips and tail had a sly swing to them as she carefully picked her path down the pile. She was always such a playful queen.

Now, Plato had a new destination. He had to find Tumble. There was no other way. A challenge wrapped in a mystery lay before him and he wasn't going to give up that easy. He was going to find out all he could about this new queen; his interest was thoroughly peaked.

It took almost half of the day to find the boisterous young tom. Plato wasn't sure why he hadn't checked with Pouncival, Tumblebrutus's brother, first. It would have saved a great deal of time to know that the young acrobat was on patrol duty. Heck, Pounce even knew where his brother was stationed. Clearly this was not a mistake that Plato would make again.

Trying his best to suppress his self-deprecating chuckles as he spotted the brown-patched tom, Plato began his ascent up the pile that served as a lookout post. It didn't take long for the coppery tom's strong limbs to scale the pile, and find a comfortable spot next to his old pal, Tumblebrutus. "Duty, huh?" He said, attempting to make some form of small talk.

Tumble couldn't hold back his usual, broad smile as a deep chuckle reverberated from his chest. "The queens not up for chasing this morning, Plato?"

Plato pretended to look offended, though laughing along with his friend. It was nice to hang out with his friend again, and he couldn't help but smile as well when he heard their combined laughter drifting through the junkyard. He forgot how long it had been since he really sat down and talked with Tumble. "Eh, fickle as always." He purred.

The two toms let themselves sit in silence, eagerly drinking in each other's company. When Plato had first come off the London streets and into the junkyard, Tumble had been his first friend. It was comforting to know that nothing seemed to have changed between them.

Eventually, as much as he loathed the idea, Plato remembered he had a mission to accomplish and had to break the silence. "Actually though, I was talking to Jemmy earlier today-"

There was a snort of laughter next to him. "No surprise there."

Plato gave Tumble a playful shove and continued, "Anyways, as I was saying... I was talking to Jemmy earlier today 'cause I was curious 'bout this queen I met." The copper and cream paused to see if Tumble had another witty comment to slip in. When the patched brown tom remained silent, curiosity written all over his face, Plato decided it was safe to continue. "The little chickadee didn't - well, she directed me to you."

A look of total shock took over Tumble's features, as he his smile broadened. "What kinda queen would I know? You, more than anyone, know that I am hopeless when it comes to the ladies."

Another laugh reverberated from deep in Plato's chest. "Definitely! I remember trying to give you tips and lessons before I just gave up on you."

Every muscle in Tumble's body tensed as if he was going to pounce Plato. However, after a quick glance at the larger tom, Tumble quickly thought the better of it. "So who is this queen anyways? And why would I know anything about her?"

"I wasn't so sure either, but Jemmy seemed pretty sure." Plato gave slight shrug of his shoulders. "Her name is Victoria."

With a sideways glance, Plato watched as Tumble's smile fell an infinitesimally small degree, though he tried his best to keep his countenance cool. "Victoria?"

"Yeah, Victoria. She's this pretty white queen-kit. Pure white, dances like an angel, doesn't seem to have too much to say..."

Tumble couldn't seem to look Plato even in the face. He could only stare almost blankly across the yard, lost in thought. "What do you want to know?" His voice was almost skeptical.

"Everything!" Plato said, excited that he found someone who would actually give him some kind of information. "Whatever you can teach me! No one wants to tell me anything! It's such a mystery..."

Quick chocolate eyes shot in Plato's direction. "You aren't thinking of chasing after her, are you?"

Plato was taken aback yet again this day. What was everyone's deal?! Was his queen really so special, so worth protecting? All he wanted to do was have a little fun. No one had cared before. And Plato had to admit, the more cats that warned him away from the queen, the more the challenge seemed to strike him. "I was just curious!" It technically wasn't a lie. "Jemmy mentioned that others don't know when she comes to the yard, that she's Bustopher's kitten, and I know that Misto is pretty protective of her..."

Tumble nodded sagely, taking in everything that Plato said. "There's not a lot to say and hers is a pretty sad story."

Plato was silent, hoping his avid attention would encourage Tumble to continue.

The smaller tom's brown eyes seemed to be lost in visions that Plato couldn't see. It was clear that Tumble's thoughts were running at a thousand miles a minute. Finally, after taking a moment to compose his thoughts, Tumble appeased Plato's curiosity. "She's an only kitten, now."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. She used to have an older brother. His name was William. William used to be Pouncie's best friend, that's how I knew him. Anyways, a few years ago, maybe about two or so, he died..."

Plato wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but this certainly wasn't it.

"Pouncival was too young to remember exactly what happened. He just knows he lost his best friend. I guess it's for the best, it was rather tragic. It seems he was struck by a car, though no one knows exactly what happened. He was barely a full year out of kittenhood..."

It truly was a depressing story, Plato couldn't deny that. And it wasn't that he didn't understand how this story could have affected Victoria. However, Plato knew cats who died or lost loved ones on the streets all the time. It hurt, and it had to especially hurt those in such a sheltered community like this, but that didn't explain why her visits were secret or why everyone was so protective.

Almost as if Tumble was hearing Plato's thoughts, he continued. "It seemed to really hit Victoria hard. She was there when it happened, just a kit at the time."

As much as he hated the idea, Plato had to interrupt, "I thought you said-"

"That no one knew what happened? I did. Right after...everything... happened, the poor kitten just shut down. I never saw her, she was always at her house, but I heard the stories, that she was practically a ghost. Only eating and breathing, just what was needed to survive (I definitely wouldn't call it being alive). It took about two weeks until she started interacting with the outside world, and she refused to talk about the accident. If anything like it was even mentioned, she'd either shutdown or lash out."

Plato kept his silence, for once completely wrapped in contemplation. As much as this challenge was tempting to him, perhaps it wouldn't be best to pursue Victoria anymore.

"They tried bringing her to the yard after she began to appear better. However, it didn't take long for her to start having...'episodes'. She would get increasingly angry and lash out at cats. They stopped her from coming around once it became too much. I didn't know she had started coming again..."

"I don't think anyone knew she was coming yesterday. I kinda just...found her I guess." The humor that usually accompanied Plato's every word was gone.

Tumble continued to stare out across the piles. It was as if he wasn't even present, he had just recited some words but mentally checked out.

"Well, I guess that was more than what I was expecting. Thanks...and sorry for the topic, I guess." Plato's felt as if his paws couldn't take him away fast enough.

Tumble provided a simple nod, allowing Plato to leave without a word.

Contemplation seemed to shroud Plato's thoughts, creating a kind of tunnel vision as he picked his way towards his den. Every thought imaginable seemed to flit through his head, but flee before his mind could fully grasp the idea and fully understand it. Plato had never had to confront queens that could be sensitive. He never had to think about the ramifications of his reputation and attitude. It was weird to stop. His wish had been for something different, but he didn't think that he would have to be different...

Suddenly, his astute ears and keen eyes saw something careening from some place off to his left heading directly for his head. He had to thank the Everlasting Cat for his quick reflexes as he quickly bent backwards to dodge the projectile. Plato couldn't keep from staring at the heavy lamp that cracked as it hit the pile.

"Plato!" The voice was a deadly warning and yet familiar. "I know what you've been up to."

Plato flattened his ears, ready for a fight, as he turned to face an angry Mistoffelees.

A/N: Sorry they keep getting longer. I really am bad at that when it comes to writing chapters. I think the next ones will be shorter like the previous chapter. Hope you don't mind. Please, please, please, let me know what you thought. Review, private message, anonymous review… I don't care. I appreciate it all! Thanks again!