Knockabout Clowns

The brown tabby kitten ran, looking over his shoulder occasionally to see if he was being followed. He ducked into an alley, looking for a place to hide. He glanced behind him, knowing he would be caught any minute now. He crawled behind a large dumpster and crouched there, trying to be as quiet as possible.

An adult cat with simliar markings appeared at the entrance to the alley. "I know you're in 'ere somewhere, Mungojerrie," she called. "You can run, but you can't 'oide!"

The kitten, Mungojerrie, hunched himself up, making himself even smaller than he already was.

"Gotcha!" the cat said as she grabbed him, swinging him through the air and tickling him.

"Momma!" Mungojerrie laughed, trying to block the tickling with his paws.

"Come on, Mungojerrie, it's getting layte. We 'ave to gaow 'aome now," his mother said, setting him down.

"Aw, do we 'ave to?"

***6 months later***

Mungojerrie laughed at the furious cries of the humans he had just robbed. He jumped out of an open window, neatly escaping the house, and ran all the way back to Macavity's lair.

"'Ere, sir," he said, dropping a brown bag at Macavity's feet. It landed with several jingles and a plink, bringing promise of the many valuable trinkets inside. Mungojerrie barely managed to keep from cringing, and stood up straight. I hope the things I got are good enough, he thought worriedly.

"Good work, boy," Macavity praised him. "You may go now."

Mungojerrie bowed his head briefly in a gesture of respect, then scurried out of the room before Macavity could assign another job for him to do.

He pulled the door closed behind him, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Macavity sat alone in his room, tapping his claws impatiently on the armchair he had made into his "throne". He only became more irritated, so he hopped down from the chair and began pacing.

He looked up as Mungojerrie raced into the room, laughing, with a brown bag in his mouth, and skidded to a halt before the Napoleon of Crime.

"'Ere, sir," he said, dropping the bag at Macavity's feet. It landed with several jingles and a plink, bringing promise of the many valuable trinkets inside.

Finally! Macavity thought, but all he said was, "Good work, boy. You may go now." He could not afford to show emotion in the presence of his inferiors.

Macavity noticed that Mungojerrie was standing altogether much too proudly for a subordinate, but he did not feel like dealing with that at the moment. His mind was on other matters.

Mungojerrie bowed his head briefly in a gesture of respect before leaving.

Once he was alone, Macavity started sorting through the bag of loot.

"Ah..." he sighed, pulling a gold chain necklace out of the bag. It had a single small emerald pendant, but no other ornament. "This should do nicely. Very nicely indeed."

Demeter curled up next to the brick wall of a house. Alone at last, she thought as she closed her eyes.

A moment later she was woken up by a delecate gold chain necklace dropped on the ground in front of her, and she looked up. "Macavity!" she gasped, and the ginger cat dropped to the ground next to her.

"Did you miss me, darling?" he asked as they nuzzled each other affectionately.

"Oh, yes! I wasn't expecting you to come today," Demeter purred.

"How could I miss the most important day of the year?" Macavity asked, and picked up the gold necklace with the emerald pendant from the ground and placed it around Demeter's neck. "Happy birthday," he said.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"For a beautiful queen," Macavity said. "Today is your second birthday?"

Demeter nodded. "You must think me a kitten," she said, looking at the ground. Macavity was four, a mature tom in his prime.

Macavity put his paw under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. "No," he said. "In fact, I think two is a very special number."

Demeter blushed and looked away, but she could not hide a smile.

"I love you, Demeter," Macavity said, embracing her.

"I love you, too," she said, and promptly burst into tears.

"What's wrong?" Macavity asked, pushing Demeter slightly away from him so he could see her face. His eyes flashed with concern and anger at whatever had made his queen unhappy. Now Macavity, he chided himself, don't start thinking that way. She isn't 'yours', yet. Of course, Macavity paid no attention to himself. Demeter was hurting-that was all that mattered at the moment.

"Munkustrap wants me to be his mate," she said, regaining a little control over her sobbing. "I don't know what to do... he's Old Deuteronomy's grandson, and second in command. I can't refuse him." She looked away.

"Demeter," Macavity said softly, and she looked at him. "Come away with me and be my mate."