Bombalurina awoke to the sensation of someone pulling on her tail. She moaned and buried her face deeper in the fluffy white pillow beneath her.

But the pulling grew more insistent. And it was all too effective—it was rapidly pulling her out of her dreaming state. She tried to ignore it. She kept her eyes firmly closed.

Now a paw slithered up her side, nails tickling her rib cage. It paused lazily, then drifted back down and settled on her butt. It gave a squeeze.

She jerked upright.

"Alright, Tugger, I'm awake! What do you want?"

In the darkness of her den, he was just a large black mass. Even her cat's eyes couldn't distinguish his trademark gold mane or leopard spots.

But, after a few seconds, her eyes picked up the faint moonlit glow on his face. He was looking at her like the answer to her question was obvious.

Bomba glared at him. He drawled, "I don't feel like sleeping."

"Of course you don't," she said hotly. Her arms were still asleep. She pushed up on them and experimentally flexed her shoulders. She knew the Maine Coon's eyes were fixed on her.

Finally done stretching, she glanced back over at him. He raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather—" and he pounced, unexpectedly, his muscular body wrapping her into a passionate embrace.

His attack was so quick that he caught her mouth open in shock. Bomba forced it closed and tried to push him off. "No! I'm tired. I don't want to."

"C'mon, Bomba," he grinned into her neck, digging his nails into her back, "you always want to."

She resented him saying that. She was a red queen. She had a fiery passionate loving nature. But she was perfectly capable of wanting sleep.

She managed to squirm away. She rolled away to face the den's doorway and closed her eyes in an effort to get back to sleep. It was a bit difficult. Blood was throbbing in her ears and racing through her veins. She wiggled in discomfort. "Go away."

Bomba felt more than heard him lean over her.

"Would you prefer I go to Cassandra?" His voice was low and suggestive.

"Yes," she hissed, ignoring every instinct in her body begging him to stay. "Yes. Go to Cassandra. Let me sleep."

He narrowed his eyes. "What about Jemima? Victoria? Rumpleteazer?"

She didn't respond. Eyelids squeezed together, she forced her mind towards happy dreamy thoughts.

"Munkustrap is out on guard duty…how about I pay a visit to Demeter?"

"Good luck," she whispered, sarcasm heavy. Demeter would rather pull out her own tail than "visit" with the Rum Tum Tugger.

He hissed in her ear, "Demeter! Your own sister!"

"Mm-hmm."

Tugger yanked on her tail. On cue, her big brown eyes flew open. She looked up at him balefully.

"I don't like playing second fiddle to your sleep. You love sleep more than you love me."

Bomba's full lips twisted in a sour expression. "You, my love, are the reason I need sleep. Now, go hang out at your owners', or complain to Mistoffeles. Or even Munk. But I," she declared, scooting away once more and diving back into the pillow, "am going to sleep."

He yawned loudly. Bomba relaxed, just a tiny bit. Maybe he was just tired enough to go to bed without any more trouble. It was possible.

Tugger moved over and pressed against her back. She purred agreeably. She was relieved he was staying and not going out. Demeter might sigh in annoyance, but Bomba was crazy about the maned tom and wanted to spend every moment, awake or asleep, with him.

He wrapped one arm around her curvy waist and the other under her head. She snuggled into him, tension gone.

After a few blissful minutes, Bomba gasped:

"Tugger! Paws!" She grabbed the offending paw and pushed it away.

"Hush, Babe. Go to sleep." He ran his nails through her headfur, which was barely red in the cold blue moonlight. His other paw started to wander again.

Bomba squirmed over to face him. Even in repose he towered over her, all fur and fanged smirk.

"Obviously I can't sleep if you do that…" she said between gritted teeth. The Rum Tum Tugger was hard to live with.

"Why? Do I know how to push—" he grabbed a pawful of her butt and brought her closer—"your buttons?"

She shoved him. "Shoo. Go away. As long as you're here, I won't get any rest."

Tugger grinned outrageously. "That's exactly right—why don't you give in to the inevitable and—Hey. Wait. Where are you going?"

Bomba stood up and fluffed herself out, trying to erase his touch. "I," she said loftily, "am going to Demeter's. As you say, Munk is out tonight."

Tugger was nettled. "Fine. Go to Demeter's. I can go anywhere. I have options."

She ignored him and headed towards the door.

Tugger growled, "Don't walk out that door."

She stopped at the harshness in his tone. She looked back in surprise. He had half-risen from the floor and his tail was beating in irritation.

"Some of us," she shot back, "need sleep. Some of us don't nap all day long. If you want me to stay—" how she relished saying that, knowing now that he did—"you must promise to behave." She gazed at him coolly with those big amber eyes.

Tugger scowled and rolled over on his back, defeated. He glared at the ceiling. "Fine. I'll be a good kitty."

Bomba hesitated. She looked longingly at the pillow, then at the large tomcat glaring at the ceiling. Sighing, she dropped to all fours and walked back over. She nuzzled her tomcat.

"Thank you, Tugs. I appreciate it. Good night." She used his chest as a pillow.

He stretched out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. He, too, closed his eyes.

Bomba snuggled into him. She inhaled the smell of his fur. She bit her lip. Heat started to course through her body. She nuzzled his face with her nose.

She sighed in frustration. "Oh, all right!"

One sly green eye opened. "What's that? I'm trying to sleep."

She attacked his lips. "Shut up," she breathed between kisses, "this is all your fault!"

"All my fault," he agreed.

"I said shut up." Bomba gripped his face tightly and continued to kiss him, adding a bite here and there.

Tugger pulled her completely on top of him. He dug his claws into the small of her back. She moaned against his mouth.

Next thing she knew, she was up against the cold floor instead of his warm body. Tugger held her down and ran a tongue up her neck, past her chin, over her lips and nose and brow. His claws still kept hold of her hips.

She ran her own claws up his arms, and tousled them in his maned shoulders. But he caught her wrists and pulled her away. He sat up.

Bomba whimpered. The sudden loss was more than she could bear.

"On second thought," he was saying, sounding bored, "I am pretty tired. Perhaps we could continue this later?"

Bomba hissed and wrenched herself out from under him, eyes narrowed into slits. She was at a loss for words.

Tugger yawned, stretching out his tongue.

"You!" Bomba said, enraged. "You—curious—beast!" It was clear this was not a compliment.

He flexed his back and lay back down. "If you promise to behave, you can get back over here." He patted his maned chest in invitation.

"Demeter was right about you!"

He rolled his head, cracking the neck. "No one likes to beg, Babe."

"So this is payback?" she nearly shrieked.

He looked at her, full of naughtiness. His green eyes glinted in the faint moonlight.

Bomba jerked herself away. She slunk over to her pillow, which would never treat her like this. She collapsed in it and buried her face so she couldn't see, hear, or smell the tomcat lounging a few yards away. The heat in her veins burned her. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She could still feel him. Only seconds later, he was curled up against her, his chest moving evenly against her back, his tail dangling over her ankle.

Bomba loosened up. She couldn't help it. His presence did that to her. She drew a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.

He was wrong. She loved him much more than sleep.

A low rumble emanated from his chest. "Goodnight, Bomba."

She whispered, "Goodnight." Slowly, the tension drained out of her body.

The darkness and warmth were heavenly. She let her gaze drift one more time over the familiar shapes in the faint moonlight of the den, the bureau, the mirror, the rusty old barbeque grail. Everything was right. Everything was here where it should be.

Including the diabolical cat behind her. Bomba stifled a grin.

Finally sleep came to claim her.

But before it succeeded, Bomba's eyes shot open and she squealed:

"Tugger! Paws!"

A/N: Fluffy fluff. Hee hee.