The Cat.

Finale.

Attractive young servers holding trays loaded by champagne and wine glasses, canapes and other treats moved through the throng of laughing people like blood in veins as the party went on. The serving girls were mostly unnoticed. Eye candy for wandering and lecherous leers and stares. For one particular server, the party was beginning to grate on her nerves and patience, so much so she found herself mentally humming old childhood songs just to stop her throwing down her tray in a fit of rage and frustration. More than once she had neeeded to dig deeper into considerable reserves to stop herself from punching the drunken 'gentlemen' who touched her bum. Each time had pissed her off like nobody's business.

She could still feel the last one's grubby fat sausages on her bum. Her anger boiled beneath the surface of a face of pure calm. One thing was sure; she was never doing this sort of job ever again. She'd almost been molested more times than she could count, and each time she'd needed to swallow the urge to murder someone. Instead she'd grinned perkily, and spoke with a high bimboish voice which went with her blond wig that made even her cringe in embarrassment as she loudly giggled and cooed when the perverts touched her. Something that angered her even more. If any of her friends could see her now...

The server was thankful when she found she no longer had any champagne to serve, much to her relief. It gave her the excuse she needed to get away from the bastards under the pretence of going back for more when she naturally had no such intention, plus her resilience was nearing its limits. More than once she'd seen the other girls being felt up by the inebriated guests, much to the ire of their spouses, who started hitting them. The server pitied the girls.

The moment she entered the kitchen, she found herself caught in between a load of gossiping staff with nothing better to do with their time. They'd finished laying the table for the sumptuous dinner ready for the guests, and would serve it to them at the appropriate time. For now they were just taking a brief break talking about everything and nothing of consequence. The serving girl went unnoticed and just blended in with the background, something that suited her just fine.

" I heard their kids are asleep upstairs." One girl said to six more.

The server held back her sigh. Great, she thought, another pointless discussion. She'd heard dozens already this evening.

Another staff member nodded. " Yeah. Apparently their ranging between eight and seventeen years old, and yet their parents won't let them out at the party."

" Maybe they can't take the alcohol?" One server suggested.

" Or the little ones are right little...terrors?" Another suggested, the word terrors more kinder than the alternative.

Maybe the parents don't want them to be seen, the server thought to herself tetchily as she resisted the urge to lose her patience. After all, they did have four kids. She mentally shook her head; why the hell was she even paying attention to all this shit? She wasn't even working here for a living.

This was why she never wanted to do this sort of job ever again. The staff here were bored out of their minds as they'd finished setting up the banquet hall for the main feast whilst the guests were getting touchy and getting just as drunk.

One maid took a look through a corridor, and she quickly hissed out, " Shut up, he's coming."

Everyone got back to work. Everyone except the server. She just stood there, looking lost, or pretended to. This was part of her plan. In a few minutes this lot would be made very busy when the guests lined themselves up, and stuffed themselves like turkeys over Christmas and laughed whilst this lot got hungry.

The watching maid couldn't think of a more suitable punishment for this lot to starve for boring her nearly to death.

A tall and rather dapper man came into the room, followed by a shorter man wearing a butler's uniform.

" We're getting ready for dinner, then?" Mr Anderson, the owner of the house and patriarch of the ' little...terrors' as the maid eloquently put it, smiled sarcastically.

The maid kept her head down. Anderson wouldn't recognise her of course, he didn't know her and never would, not if she had her way. She'd been keeping to the background of the party to avoid suspicion, and she'd played her part in keeping people from suspecting her true motives for being here.

Anderson was a very rich and important man, some said he had his fingers poised to take the reigns of Mayor of London, and it was true he was a charismatic man. In public, that is. In quarters like these, his real self came out to play. The maid had only seen one other meeting like this before, when the help arrived for tonight. Anderson had practically treated the whole lot like skivvies. In public however, the maid had to marvel at his skills for ignoring the rest of the human race nearby. It was just the way he was raised, that was all.

Anderson went on, " Mr. Franks, come here please."

Franks trotted over. His thin and tiny face framed by a thick mane of graying hair. He was supposed to be the boss in charge of the help, more specifically the maid, but he wasn't. There were so many servers it was hard to keep track of their names, and the maid wasn't stupid enough to draw attention to themselves. Anderson looked down his nose at the little man, not even bothering to hide any of his contempt. " When I hired your company," he whispered though his quiet tones echoed around now quiet kitchen, " I was under the impression you were the best. I only take the best, but instead I hear you have been gossiping."

The maid kept her eyes lowered, but that didn't stop her noting everyone looking subtly about themselves. They thought they had a spy here, but the maid was too smart to believe that. There was a security camera in the light above. The camera was another reason she was keeping her head low. Even if the police came, as she was certain they would eventually, she wasn't leaving anything to chance. A lot hinged on her success for tonight.

Till squeaked out, " We are the best, Mr Anderson." Pathetic. And it was also a sentiment shared by the others, if the looks of derision sent his way were any indication.

" Then why is it I have guests waiting outside for you to start dinner?" Anderson's voice, once so quiet was now loud enough to make eardrums echo.

" Why are you letting your maids and servers, not to mention caterers run round like headless chickens, doing nothing but standing about and gossiping when there's work to do?"

Till's mouth opened and closed slackly. Anderson sneered at him, eyes glinting in triumph. The maid knew he'd scored a point, one he would not hesitate in using against Till.

Anderson shook his head, then he turned his attention to the others. " Well, what the hell are you all doing gawping?" He barked. " You're being paid to serve, so get out there and do your job!"

When everyone was bustling about, some going outside to announce to the patient but drunk guests dinner was ready, Anderson turned to his butler.

" Till is barely reliable," Anderson said loudly, uncaring if Till was hearing. The maid glanced at the little man from beneath her tilted head. He was glaring at Anderson, anger and hurt on his face. The maid felt sorry for him. " I want you personally to carry out some of the organisation here."

The butler nodded. The maid wondered how he felt about the extra strain on his duties.

" Have the children been served?" Anderson asked the butler.

The look butler boy sent towards Till was so scornful it would've given a rhinocerous cause for concern. His voice was apologetic wehn he addressed his master.

" I am sorry, sir," he said, his voice precise and cultured, even for a Briton. " Mr Till decided not to feed the children until the guests started. He considered it fair."

The way he said that last sentence was the final nail on the coffin for Till. The maid knew that whilst the guests were important to Anderson, the children came first above all else.

Anderson turned to glare at the hapless Till, but turned back to the butler.

" Do you know if their dinners are ready?" He asked. His face was calm, but the maid was too observant not to notice how angry the man was. Gone was the arrogant bully, in his place was a strong father.

The butler wasn't sure, and the maid took the opportunity presented to her. Besides the other members of staff here in the kitchen were very busy already, so she was the only one without anything Anderson, Till or the butler would consider practical.

" Here it is, sir," the maid said timidly as she walked up to Anderson, keeping her voice reasonably high pitched as she carried a fairly large tray carrying a cooked meal and a lovingly prepared pudding for the children - each. The maid smiled shyly as she balanced the heavy tray. Despite her best efforts to make sure neither Anderson nor his wife notice her, she was sure they'd heard her laugh loud enough on those occasions. The maid hated the necessity to maintain the pretence, but she didn't want Anderson getting suspicious and asking the questions to blow her cover.

Anderson grunted. " Seems your staff's got more sense than you do, eh Till?"

Till's voice was resentful. " Yes, Mr Anderson."

The maid kept facing forwards. Till might recognise she was an imposter if she faced him, and she'd gone to too much trouble already for that to happen now.

The butler unwittingly helped her, though he didn't seem happy about it. " Need I remind you sir, the guests are entering the house now, and all the staff are busy here with dinner. Who will take the dinner up?"

The maid once again took initiative. It had been part of her plan anyway, but this stupid fool of a butler was just helping her. Made her job tonight easier.

" Can I help?" The maid asked perkily, hating herself for the stupid tone.

Anderson sighed. He didn't like this, he'd thought when he and his wife made the arrangements a professional would be hired. Instead they got a brainless simpleton. One thing for sure, with that attitude and incompetence Till wouldn't receive any money. The maid in front of him, however, despite her annoying voice was someone with common sense between her ears.

He took from his pocket a key.

" East wing, I'll just show you the staircase." Anderson was saying as he guided the girl carrying the tray, not even bothering to offer to carry the fucking thing. " The children are in a small suite that acts as a sort of common room. Open the door with this key, place the tray on the table, and then lock the door. Leave the key on the small table outside. Then come straight down here. Understood?"

The maid resisted the urge to grimace as Anderson virtually invaded her personal space. Keeping the smile on her face was an achievement she wasn't even sure she could achieve.

" Understood, completely sir," the maid replied.

Anderson grunted and stalked away.

When he was out of sight, the maid had to hold back the laugh that threatened to burst from her chest. God! The man was such a bully it was unbelievable, but he was a useful body. Really, if they'd lived in another world, he would make a good minion. The maid watched the door he'd walked through, then she glanced down at the key in her hand.

This was too easy.

Walking away before anyone could interfere with the next phase of her plan, the maid walked up the stairs. The manor house was more a museum, it was full of old and exquisite art works, paintings and statues, that kind of thing. The cold drapings and shining white walls made the place cold and unwelcome.

It was funny. A lot of people in the city were starving on the streets, sleeping on piles of cardboard for mattresses, and yet fops like the Anderson family lived here, and yet the place was so drab with no style. The facade of civilisation sickened the girl as she walked up the stairs, the sound of her heeled shoes clacking echoing through the stairway. The maid knew, if the roles were reversed, and somehow the poor came into the house then they would tear the place apart to keep warm and fed.

When she reached the top landing, she was pleased to find not all of the house was cold and impersonal; the walls were painted a rich blue, and there was a train set on the floor. Smiling despite her heavy burden even if it meant nothing to her, the maid stepped over it with no trouble. The train set told her she was close to her main objective. Slowing down and sliding along the floor to stop her shoes clacking, the maid saw this was the floor the family lived on. She passed a small oak door on the way, but there wasn't a sound coming from it. Anderson's bedroom.

Perfect.

Pausing by a massive oak door, the maid listened in carefully as she heard the sounds of children playing video games and watching television, but it was the sounds of a child laughing that made the maid smile. She cocked her head as she twisted her head to the left. There was a short corridor with a door at the other end.

The maid sighed. She hoped she could do what she needed to do without the children noticing she was here. This floor was quite small. She knew from an earlier break in the door at the other end was Anderson's office, her objective.

Straightening up, the maid gingerly held onto the tray whilst she took out the brass key, and she unlocked it before knocking.

" Room service," she called. One of the Anderson kids was little more than a toddler, and she didn't want a child knocking her over whilst the older ones watched and laughed. She didn't want the hassle of an ambulance coming. For them.

Before the maid could turn the knob, the door was pulled open. Wrenched, more like it.

On the other side of the door was a teenage girl. The maid smiled meekly, and held out the tray. " May I come in?"

The girl sneered. " Sure," she moved back. When the maid walked past her, she spat out, " Put it down then leave. Help."

The maid had to swallow the temptation to swing round and bash the girl on the face. Instead she just ignored her through sheer force of will, then she walked out meekly, keeping her head down. As she closed the door, the voices of the kids whispering about how stupid the help was almost made her lose her temper and storm back in. These little brats, spoilt with mummy and daddy holding their hands throughout their worthless lives whilst they attended posh and snobbish schools to train them for a world that didn't exist whilst in the real world real people were working hard to make ends meet, if she had walked back in then no force would've stopped her from causing major injuries.

Only the mission she'd set for herself kept her from losing her cool. The locking and loud slamming of the door made her smile in satisfaction.

Stupid brats.

The maid made sure to make a lot of noise walking back to the stairs, and she walked down the flight before stopping a quarter of the way down. There she stopped, took off her shoes and walked back up. When she reached the landing, she kept her shoes off. She had a job to do.

At first the maid was tempted to check out the bedroom, then she decided against it. She didn't care about the jewellery here, she had something else in mind.

Making sure to keep very quiet as she slid across the floor towards the office, the maid entered the office. It was an overly furnished room, mahogany rich woods, a massive bureau and desk, and a computer on it. Quietly placing the shoes on the desk with a whisper, the maid found that Anderson had left the computer in sleep mode. The bloke must've thought the thing was off. The maid smirked. Slipping a hand into her pockets, she removed a pair of gloves. As she put them on, she wished she'd worn a pair to keep her fingerprints from touching trays and that, but the best part was she'd limited everything she'd touched.

Tapping a few keys, the maid started to work on the computer. Within a few minutes she'd copied a dozen files onto a disk, hacked into the phone, and found out the computer's internet address. Good. All she had to do later was hack into it later. Easy as pie.

Slipping a notepad out of her pocket, the maid calmly and unhurriedly wrote down the email addresses for him and his wife. With that she would be able to hack her way into the computer, learn everything about Anderson, and make a profit out of it.

The best thing about the computer was it was jointly used between Anderson and his wife. The best thing about that was his wife never used it, and the inbox was chock a bloc full of Spam. This was better than she'd imagined. She could hack into the wife's side of the computer, and then use it against the husband.

Going back to the page she'd left open, the maid put the computer back into sleep. She left the office, and went to the bedroom.

It was time to have a look around.

Anderson had no real wish to spend all his time listening to political prattling, besides many of the guests were so drunk he couldn't make sense of them. Bored, Anderson decided to leave with the pretence of visiting the children. It was a win-win situation, except for his wife, of course. The guests and staff would see him as a tough man but tender when it came to family, and he got away from their stupidity.

Leaving his wife to entertain the guests as two leaving would be considered rude, they'd take it in turns later, Anderson stomped up the stairs. When he reached the top landing, he sighed happily.

He checked on his children, who were eating their meals that maid with the high pitched voice had left them. Anderson made a mental note to find out if he could hire her permanently, she wasn't a bad looker and it was doubtful she was worth anything in reality. It was painful for Anderson their image had to be mired by the children not to be seen, but his wife had told him it was a good idea.

After saying the party wouldn't take long to finish, Anderson left with a smile on his face. It faded when he passed the door to the room he shared with his wife. He thought he'd heard something, someone inside.

Anger boiling inside him, he put his hand on the doorjamb.

The maid sauntered around the room, examining little bits and pieces. Remember, she chastised herself, don't dawdle around here too long. The door slamming open made her jump.

Too late. " Just what do you think you are doing in here?!"

The maid swung round with a cry, her hand over her chest. " I-I'm s-s-so t-terribly s-s-sorry, Mr Anderson," the maid stuttered putting on a frightened act at once. " I was- I was j-just," she waved a hand over the bedroom. " Exploring!" She said the last word happily, pleased with herself for thinking up the word, at least Anderson thought so. He narrowed his gaze at her, eyes roaming her figure. She was, in his eyes, even better looking than his own wife, and her tits were larger and fuller too. Anderson licked his lips as he contemplated blackmailing her, using this as the perfect means of keeping her here. He was about to walk forwards to bind her to him, to force her to give him a blowjob, then force her onto the bed to make her his next personal assistant when he saw it.

He froze. How, how was it possible?

" That's a beautiful pendent, you're wearing, my dear," Anderson said at last, watching the girl's eyes narrow. It surprised him. " It looks like one my wife owns, and one I know I can't recall seeing on you downstairs. It can't be the same one." He added, eying her closely.

She shrugged but didn't say anything.

" The pendent was inside this safe," Anderson went on, moving slowly towards a small mahogany case near the bookcase. " The manufacturer told us it was uncrackable."

He opened the case, revealing an open safe.

The maid smirked, she actually smirked, at Anderson.

" Oops," she purred, " No-one tole me it was uncrackable."

Anderson was stunned. He'd pegged this girl down for a girlish, shy, bimbo, but she was someone else. Now her whole character was confident, strong, and cocky.

" Oops," Selina purred, " No-one told me it was uncrackable."

She was pissed despite the pretence, though she had to be impressed. Anderson had managed to sneak up on her, it had been a long time since anyone had managed that feat.

Selina had no trouble believing the jig was up. Soon the police would be coming, her description would be circulated around the city, but she was wearing a wig to disguise herself so she still had time.

Anderson looked surprised at her change in manner, and for a moment Selina was wondering why he was looking like that. Then it occurred to her he was surprised simply by her change in manner.

" I can't let you take my wife's jewellery," Anderson told her.

Selina wanted to laugh. " Your wife?" She sneered. " I've been watching you. You go round the city, picking up girls and then have sex with them, and you pay them. Some aren't even prostitutes, and you stand there talking about me taking your wife's jewellery?!"

Okay, she mused, maybe not the best thing to do, letting the bastard know I've been spying on him. Something about him just pisses me off.

Anderson walked over to her, trying to look menacing, but the effect was ruined by the barely hidden by the hesitation in his eyes. Selina couldn't resist mocking him for it. " Oh," she sneered widely. " What're you gonna do?" She asked as she marched over. She smiled coyly like a cat that had all the cream, and didn't care who knew it. She sized him up.

" Look, you wouldn't hurt me anymore than I would you."

The kick came without warning. The karate kick was powered by her meta powers, though he wouldn't know that. Anderson found himself hurling towards the wall, where he made contact with it. The force of the kick and impact on the wall made a massive dent. It was time for her to go.

" Sometimes an exception must be made," she shrugged, walking towards the window.

With moves worthy of a gymnast at Olympic level, Selina vaulted onto the bureau, and opened the window. Anderson knew she had the pendent, but he didn't know she had something more valuable in her possession. His life.

The high window provided her with the perfect perch.

" Goodnight, Mr Anderson." With that Selina flipped backwards into the dark garden.

Body moaning in protest, Anderson got up, and headed towards the window. He looked down in astonishment as the woman walked away from his home, ripping off her apron as she did. As if she'd sensed his eyes looking down on her from the window, the woman turned around.

For a moment she just stood there, not a care in the world.

Then she waved at him. Anderson just had to admire her nerve.

He had no idea his life was about to tumble from beneath his feet.

Six months later.

The Guardian's story on the Anderson case made many people - high and low laugh. The Andersons had lived the high life, and the parents had wanted more and more, and they'd been willing to let others carry the full weight.

Until now.

The Guardian was one of many newspapers who'd been supplied, by courier, a lot of information about the parents of the family. The husband of the family was in fact a pervert, and he had tonnes of pornography on his computer. Some of it was into little boys and girls. The bank accounts showed tremendous fiddling, along with documentation Anderson had arrogantly left on his harddrive that showed him stealing it. Why, no one knew. All people did know was that Anderson was stupid as well as a thief.

The story of the maid stealing Anderson's wife's pendent had only been the omen of things to come. Now the Anderson family was under investigation, and it didn't look remotely good for them. It had just been a precursor to six months of bad luck. Even the thief had disappeared.

Selina chortled as she read the paper whilst she ran on the treadmill, doing 5 miles. Granted, it had surprised her when going through the bastard's computer the amount of paid porn, and the paedophile photos had merely made her sick, but it sweetened the deal considerably. The article went on about how there was no more money in the bank accounts. They'd been cleaned out.

A private smirk appeared on Selina's face as she remembered what she'd done with that money. Hacking and stealing the amount had been child's play, hiding it was something else. She'd deposited a third in her American account, a third in her British account, and the final third went into charity work.

Yep, life was pretty fucking good. She'd shattered an ambitious businessman's life, destroyed any chance he had of elevating his position, ruined his life, and for the icing on the cake, stole his money. It would be enough to keep her comfortable for a long time.

Author's note. Thanks to all the readers of this story. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not writing any more meta stories. I'm now focusing on others. As always, please leave your thoughts on this story.