Author's Note: Oh dear.. I have no idea what I'm doing with this story.

Bold italicized is Mistoffelees writing.

Italicized is Victoria writing.

Chapter Three: Notes

Mistoffelees~~~

"Ok-k-kay, you t-t-t-take t-t-t-t-t-this d-decimal an-n-nd y-y-you move it-t-t t-t-t-t-three s-s-spaces-s t-t-to t-t-the ri-right." I pointed to the math problem Victoria was stuck on.

"What?" She looked at me, bewildered.

"What?" I repeated, confused as well.

"What did you say?"

"Er...I-I'll j-just writ-t-te it d-down." I pulled out another piece of paper from underneath my mat and wrote;

You take the decimal and move it three spaces to the right. Victoria smiled and replied to my note.

I see. You make it sound so much easier. She scribbled something down on her math homework.

Thanks. Why are you writing? You don't stutter.

It's fun, not having to talk all the time.

According to you.

What do you like about talking, then? That stopped me. I looked at her and poked the math book. She laughed. Don't change the subject. I like to get to know people.

Fine. I guess that I'm just jealous how fast you can all communicate. I have to stutter or write notes. Not fun.

I don't know. I like writing. I sighed and wadded up the paper, throwing it across the room.

"J-j-just d-do your mat-t-th homework-k-k." I muttered, "That's what we're here f-f-for."

"Fine, Mr. Grumpytail. I'll just do...This!" Victoria laughed and pulled out another piece of paper, writing on it.

What are you gonna do about this? She scratched a line underneath the last word with a dainty paw.

I'll ignore it. Like so... I made a series of dots, covering half the paper. She laughed. I smiled at the bell-like sound.

I see, I see. But if you reply, doesn't that mean you're not ignoring me? I shook my head slowly, and pointed to the math book again. She sighed and did another problem.

Maybe.

I think it is. Now how do you work this problem- ½y2 + 9y ? I looked at the math book.

Simple. ½ multiplied by y, which equals ¾, plus nine times ¾ again.

Oh. I feel really stupid.

Don't feel stupid, that was a bit of a hard problem. I rubbed her shoulder gingerly, nervously. Surprisingly, she leaned into it, smiling beautifully.

Not really. I used to be able to do ones like that easily.

What changed? Now it was my turn to ask the questions. She shook her head and pointed to the math book. Oh, no. You tell me. I told you what you asked. I tried to smirk like Quaxo, and failed miserably. My face was more used to smiling shyly, not smirking like a handsome tomcat.

Ah, well. I guess that it's because of Plato. He won't leave me alone. Try this catnip, Victoria. Try this whiskey, Victoria. It'll be fun, Victoria. He may be my tomfriend, but I just...nevermind. Oh. She had a tomfriend. There goes whatever minute chance I had with a queen.I rubbed her back impulsively again and she smiled weakly.

"That feels really good." She meowed, shutting the math book, "I'm finished."

"Oh. W-w-well, do you want-t-t to st-t-tay a lit-t-t-ttle longer?" I was shocked at my own boldness. Me, actually asking a queen to stay a while.

"Sure, I can stay for dinner, I guess."

"Do you wan-n-nt to come ov-ver t-t-t-tomorrow f-f-for s-s-studying?"

"I can't, I've got ballet."

"Oh." I sighed and self-consciously ran a paw through my headfur, "How-w ab-b-bout t-t-the d-day after?"

"That's Saturday."

"Oh." I felt like banging my head against the den. How could I be so stupid?

"But I could use the extra study time." I smiled weakly at her trying to save me from embarrassment.

"Af-f-ter you." I swept my paw theatrically to the exit of my room, blushing inwardly at my silliness. Quaxo was rubbing off.

"Why, thank you, kind sir." She laughed and gracefully left the room with a curtsy.

I think she likes you. Quaxo piped up suddenly.

You think? I smiled hopefully, then frowned; no queen in the world could like me, I'm so shy and introverted. I'm the kid who hid from Jennyanydots when I was five. Seriously. She scared me to death.

Heck yeah, bro. She was flirting.

Really?

Yep. But I am not letting you have all the fun. Quaxo took over then.

~~~Quaxo~~~

You already have a queenfriend. Mistoffelees whined. I rolled my eyes.

Yes, but I'm not going to flirt with her. I'll be your super bipolar wing-man! Bash you one minute, help you the next.

You're so helpful.

I know!

I cartwheeled out of my room, shouting, "Did anyone miss me?"

"Not really." Victoria giggled. I could see why Mistoffelees liked her. She was sweet, nice, caring, pretty, a heck of a dancer, a fair singer-

Hey! You've got a queenfriend, stupid.

I am not stupid! I grumbled inwardly; this is what I got for letting the line "There never was a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffelees" get in his stinking song. Just because it was true.

You really think I'm smart? My "brother" asked half-hopefully.

No. Not really. You're just annoying. I lied, then turned to Victoria and my mother.

"Mistoffelees invited Vic here for supper." I flicked my white-tipped tail towards the snowy queen. Mom nodded and pulled out another pillow for her to eat on. Victoria glared at me.

"Please don't call me Vic." She muttered, turning her head away.

"Okay...how about Vicky?"

"Even worse."

"Er, Toria?"

"Nope"

"Tory?"

"Hm...no." I sighed; queens were absolutely impossible!

"Tor"

"Sounds like a tom's name."

"Any hints?"

"No."

"Ugh! Misto, help me out!" Victoria gave me a strange look. Bast! I must've said that out loud.

Well, why don't you try a kittenhood nickname? Most queens love it when you remember.

Where did you learn that?

.Mom...Maybe...

You asked her for queen advice? I choked in a laugh. I must've looked pretty weird, because Victoria gave me one look and doubled over, consumed by giggles.

Possibly, you know, on a slim chance.

Okay...Back to topic! What did you call Victoria when she was little?

Duh. Rory. He snorted, something I hadn't thought possible when he didn't control the body.

Cute. I thought sarcastically, poking Victoria's white shoulder. She jumped, and I stuk my tongue out at her. She glared then turned to face me fully.

"What nickname have you come up with now? Violin? Something even worse?"

"Nope." I rolled over onto my back. "Mistoffelees said he called you Rory when he was a kit. Do you like that one?"

"Maybe" She smiled, letting me know that she did like that name. A lot.

"Am I allowed to call you that?"

"No."

"Who is?"

"Mistoffelees. And Plato."

"Aw...somebody's got a crush!" I meowed in a singsong voice. Victoria slapped me playfully.

Mom stepped out of her cooking area.

"What do you two want? Fish paste, tuna, mice, or pigeon?" I smiled; Mistoffelees couldn't stand tuna, and the aftertaste would drive him nuts.

"Tuna." I said immediately. Victoria agreed enthusiastically.

"Why am I afraid you're plotting against your brother, Quaxo?" Mom asked, slicing the tuna from the "kitchen".

Ugh! Why, Quaxo, why? Mistoffelees gagged when our nose picked up the smell. I felt sorry for him all of a sudden. I worried that I'd lost my touch, but Mistoffelees never, ever ate chicken because I hated it. Was I really going to be that mean?

Sorry, bro. I'll rinse my mouth out, promise.

You'd better. He warned, relieved. Mom came out with a cracked dish of tuna. I impulsively pinched my nose, hoping Mistoffelees wouldn't gag again. I did not want to end up getting sick.

"I thought you loved tuna, Quaxo." Mom meowed, feeling my forehead.

"I do, but he doesn't" I pointed to my head, ignoring how odd my voice sounded when my nose was plugged, "It makes him sick."

"Oh! You're mean, Quaxo!" Victoria exclaimed.

"Normally I eat it. So I think I'm getting better at this 'nice' thing." I grumbled, not unplugging my nose because the smell was starting to make me sick as well.

"I'll go get the mice." Mom meowed, "You two both love that. How about you, Victoria?"

"I'd like some mice." She said politely, not wanting to make Mistoffelees sick. I slumped against the wall, attempting to ignore Mistoffelees gagging in my head.

Do I sound like that when you have chicken?

No, you're – gag – more of a – gag – drama queen.

Thanks.

"Quaxo, you're green." Victoria crawled over to me.

"Am I?"

"Yes." She looked worried, maybe I should act like this around Jemima.

"Stupid Mistoffelees. I can never eat tuna again." I moaned dramatically, falling sideways while clawing at the wall.

See? Total drama queen.

At least I don't sparkle.

Neither do I! It seemed he was done gagging.

Oh, really?

That's my magic!

That sparkles.

Fine.

"Really, Quaxo!" Mom stepped out with three mice dangling from her paws, "Look what you've done to the wall!"

"Mom, we live in a junkyard." I sat up and rolled my eyes.

"My den is clean, however. And I refuse to let you make it look like a true junkyard."

"Whatever." I sat back on my pillow beside Victoria.

There was silence while everyone ate. Eventually, Victoria spoke.

"I need to get home. Tell Mistoffelees I said thanks for the help, and for supper." I nodded, busy making walrus tusks out of a pair of sticks. Mom slapped my paw and I sheathed my claws and walked the white queen to the door.

"You're actually not as mean as I thought." Victoria wrung her tail in her paws. I nodded slowly.

"I have my moments."

"However few and far between they may be?"

"Exactly. See you Saturday."

"Won't I be meeting Mistoffelees?"

"Who says I won't make an appearance? I love parties."

"Goodbye, Quaxo." She rolled her eyes.

"Goodbye, Victoria." I rolled mine in a horrible imitation of the slightly taller queen.