Time passed slowly for Demeter.

When Macavity interrogated the cats, it had been Demeter who had spilled the beans. She hadn't meant to – but his gaze, so intense, was too overwhelming, and she blurted that Grizabella had left.

The ginger tom was furious, lashing out at the other queens, and he refused to even come to the den to take Demeter out for an adventure. Eventually he came back, after a couple of days, daring anyone to look at him as he escorted Demeter into the open. She was scared of him, at first – reluctant to stray too far from his side.

When she wasn't with him, she spent her days dancing, and stalking, and pouncing. She was restless, and craved their outings…but something seemed off. Macavity was angrier, and less likely to indulge her whims. If she lagged behind or complained, he's snap and sometimes she even thought he'd hit her.

Even still… he made her feel safe, most of the time.

His mere presence calmed her – she could even tell when he returned to the entire basement, not just when he entered the room.

It had been some time since he'd taken her to the top of the building, and finally he did once more. He left her to her own devices up there, choosing instead to sit by himself at the very edge.

"Sir?" she whispered, and he stiffened, as if surprised she was even there.

"What?" he snarled, and she cowered.

"Nothing…"

Macavity sighed, forcing himself to relax, turning and slinking around her, a low purr rumbling from his lips, "Sorry, my sweet. What's wrong?"

She relaxed instantly, letting out a content little hum and leaning into his fur. He didn't have to mind control her, she even curled into him without prompting.

The change in attitude was exciting for Demeter, and she cherished every moment she could get.

"I love these… adventures…" she said quietly, "I just wish there were more of them…"

"Well…" he murmured, trying to be patient. She was still a kitten, after all, "I am busy, my love…"

She whined softly, nuzzling into him, "I know…" she said quietly.

He leaned in, nuzzling her gently and pressing a soft lick to her cheek. Her eyes widened and she stared at him in surprise, but he didn't do anything else. Slowly, she relaxed against him again, closing her eyes.

"Ready to go back, my pet?" he asked quietly, and she whined.

"Just… a few more minutes. Please?"

He sighed quietly, watching her, before nodding. She smiled gratefully, butting his shoulder and tentatively stepping to the edge of the building. She closed her eyes, letting the wind whip her fur back.

"Kit?" Macavity murmured softly, and an ear twitched to listen, "What are you doing?"

"It…it gets stuffy in the basement…" she breathed, "The air is nice out here…"

If she had been looking, she would've seen the flicker of humanity cross his face – a flash of remorse.

"Yes, well…" he breathed, "I'll do my best to bring you out more."

She sighed happily, turning back to him and smiling brightly, "Okay. Let's go."

He nodded slowly, leading her back down the stairs to the streets. She knew the way back herself, and he let her go in front.

"Sir?" she asked softly as they reached the basement.

"Kit?"

"My sister…" she said slowly, "The- the other one. The baby. What's… what's going to happen to her?"

Macavity paused contemplatively, "She'll be okay," he said softly, "A henchqueen. She'll learn to be a thief.

Demeter's eyes widened, "A thief?"

"She'll have a companion. One of my Henchtoms."

Demeter's eyes darkened. The nights in the basement had changed her – she'd listened to the Queens when they thought she was sleeping. The innocent kitten he was when she arrived was slowly being corrupted.

"He won't hurt her, will she?"

Macavity was surprised at the look on her face, knowing full well what she meant, "That's not up to me, kit."

A tiny mewl left her throat and he grumbled softly.

"Who knows what might happen. She's being weaned, and as soon as she can survive without milk, she'll join the Henchcats."

Demeter sighed. After her tantrum the other day, she was slowly learning she couldn't change much, "Okay."

Macavity watched her curiously for a long moment. She was changing, every single day. Growing older, more mature. Changing.

She was delectable.

He shivered gently, headbutting her gently, "Go inside. I'll be back later."

"I… I could come?" she suggested, but he shook his head.

"No."

Her shoulders slumped and he watched her head down the stairs, making sure a Henchtom spotted her before walking away.

Lost in thought, Macavity's paws took him across town.

Demeter was beautiful, kind and cunning. A teenager now, he'd watched her grow, but she never had the opportunity to take on responsibility. So she still acted like a child.

He was curious about her – what kind of queen she could've been had he not intervened.

Macavity frowned to himself, so confused. He was torn. Demeter wasn't like the other queens he'd been with. They were all so simple, but Demeter was something else.

His gut twisted as the slow realisation fell upon him.

Could it be…?

Was he in love?

He let himself play with the idea like a dying mouse, batting it from paw to paw.

His nose wrinkled angrily. Nothing good could come of it, if it was the case. Love had no place in his life. He had goals, and aspirations, and a mate was not on his list.

He sighed to himself.

Their outings would have to stop.

He couldn't risk it anymore. She was growing too attached and he, well…he'd given her chances that other kittens wouldn't have gotten.

He found himself back at the basement with a little confusion – he hadn't aimed to be back so soon, but since he was there he padded down into the main rooms, greeting his Henchtoms, and his most trusted HenchQueen, Ambrosia.

"Your kitten is officially ready for training…" she smiled, inclining her head with respect.

He fixed her with a confused glare, "My kitten?"

"Rumpleteazer…" she reminded him, "Demeter's sister."

Finally it dawned on him, "It seems a little soon?"

"She's five weeks," Ambrosia protested, "Weaned and confident on her feet."

Macavity just blinked in surprise, "Five weeks?" he murmured, "Time has moved more quickly than I thought…"

"So…are we clear to start her training?"

Macavity nodded absently, "Put her with Mungojerrie. They're quite similar, aren't they?"

Ambrosia nodded, "Quite, Macavity. They'll make a good pair. We'll organise the training immediately. Is there any more I can do for you?"

Macavity paused, "She's mystic," he remembered softly, "I could tell, even before she was born. Is there any sign of magic?"

Ambrosia shook her head, "Negative, sir. Maybe she's magic sensitive, but otherwise she's an ordinary kitten."

He watched Ambrosia dubiously, but there was no reason not to trust her. He sighed, before another thought crossed his mind.

"Have we managed to track my old tribe yet?"

Ambrosia winced. She had hoped he wouldn't ask, "Not yet, Sir. But they can't have gone far. We counted a pregnant queen and five or six kittens."

"It's been months," he growled irritably, "Surely they didn't just disappear."

"We have little scent to go by. If you could-"

Macavity hissed, lashing out and pushing her away, "This is your job. I have better things to do than waste my time with meaningless searches."

Ambrosia shrunk back, fixing him with a determined stare, "Of course, Macavity. How foolish of me to suggest such a thing."

He gave her a withering glare and she gave him the most non-threatening smile she could muster.

"Find them."