Whew! Talk about a haitus. If anyone is still reading this you guys are awesome and you can thank the movie 'Now you see me' (a film about magicians) for kick starting this little magical muse back to life. I was going through several versions of this chapter before I realised that everything was too serious. I needed things to be a bit more light-hearted because I'm sure even the best of us get tired of drama. Anyhow, welcome back and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

It took a great deal to shake Bustopher Jones, Some even said it was impossible. This ability to be stoic was mostly the fault of Mistoffelees, who had lived with him ever since his mother died (and had a knack for creating catastrophes ever since he could sneeze). Any other Jellicle's hair may have been driven to insanity but not Bustopher Jones. After many years of desensitisation to surprises he now considered himself completely invulnerable, absolutely dispassionate. But when he caught sight of his nephew sitting amongst a crowd of injured and weary cats, his stone-set features wavered, just a little.

Quaxo was sitting crossed legged on the ground with the Maine Coom called Tugger who had a bandage wrapped around his cranium. The pair of them had their heads bent as if they were deep in conversation but neither of them appeared to be talking much. Instead Quaxo had reached out towards Tugger and taken his hand, and much to Bustopher's great surprise the Maine Coon had not pulled away. Indeed he was cradling the magician's paw with both og his own, showing that his presence was welcome but giving him room to pull away if he needed the space. This more than anything else made Bustopher look at his nephew with a raised eyebrow for a moment before he regained his composure.

Quaxo and Tugger withdrew paws as he approached and stood to greet him. Quaxo's introduction was cordial but Bustopher noticed with a frown that there wasn't even so much as a sarcastic quip in his direction. This lack of verbal assault more than anything else told the older tom just how exhausted his nephew was. Now why was that?

He quickly broke out of his thoughts in order to shake the Maine Coon's outstretched paw. "Delighted to meet you Rum Tum Tugger" he was pleased to note that even when visibly injured the tom still had a firm shake on him. "Now how about head down to my car and I'll take you to the Mansion."

Many wealthy people nowadays liked to downplay their status in an attempt to seem normal. Not so Bustopher Jones. He did not refer to his mansion as The House, The Cabin, The Lodge or some other ridiculous "hey I'm just a regular cat but not really" title so as to not seem aristocratic. His mansion was a mansion, just as he was an aristocrat. He saw no use in trying to be anything else, it was who he was. An aristocrat he may be, but he was a damn good one.

After arriving at his mansion he made everyone go straight to bed, himself included. And everybody obeyed, even Quaxo (for a while anyhow). Bustopher found him next morning turning his study into chaos. You see being the cat about town that he was Bustopher had come to know a little bit about everybody who was worth noting and everything about a very select few. Knowledge of this sort is always of great worth and Bustopher had spent a great deal of time sorting and cataloguing his hard won information. The heart of his research was to be found in his study and it was here that the great tom had hoped to find out more about the young royal that was flatting and fraternising with his nephew. However when he reached the study he found that said nephew had got there first, and was well on the way to turning his orderly and well kept archives into a pandemonium Hades himself would have been proud of.

"Who are you? Go away." Snapped Quaxo without even looking up from the paperback he was skimming through.

"Quaxo" His uncle stood amongst the mess in his study with slowly mounting bewilderment. Unable to take in everything at once he started with small bits and pieces. "Is that my original transcript of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round table?"

"It's the original one yes"

"And you put it on the floor?"

"Had to make room for Ed, Edd and Eddy"

"Quaxo you..."

"How many times do you knock before entering a room?" The younger tux asked, still not bothering to look up from his work."

"Three I suppose, Quaxo we need to..."

"Three! That's it! That's the answer. It's always three. Going way back into history we have always had a band of three to bring us order or destroy it." Quaxo was now on a sleep deprived rant and started waving his paperback in the air as if trying to add effect to his words. "We knock thrice. Our time is divided into Past, present and future. We even have our three Jellicle names! Our greatest tales always consist of a band of three, from Arthur, Merlin and Lancelot to Tom, Dick and Harry. It is so simple, how could I have missed it. All I need to do now is find out where it is. Did he use Ceaser, Pompey and Marcus? Athos, Porthos and Aramis? Or Harry, Ron and Hermione? Now where did I leave put the bible?

"Quaxo. You are talking nonsense and acting like a lunatic" Bustopher ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. "Macavity has no magic band of three. You have just stayed up too late and drunk too much coffee... again. Go to bed."

"No."

"Yes."

"First get me another copy of Three men in a boat. I spilled coffee over your one."

It was at this point that Bustopher lost it.

From the safety of the breakfast table Tugger caught a glimpse of Quaxo being potato-sacked off to his room by the irate aristocrat. It was the only glimpse that he would get of his flatmate for the rest of the day as Quaxo really was exhausted and passed out on his pillow almost instantly. He didn't see that much more of Bustopher, for after the tom had performed the absolute necessities of being a host to him he had retreated to his study to try and straighten some of the mess.

Tugger didn't mind. His head was hurting and for most of the morning he spent his time looking through old photo albums he had found in the breakfast room. He quickly decided that Quaxo, when he was younger had the most adorably serious expression on his face. There was a particular photo of the tux standing with his magic tutor (a grey and white striped female) that captured it well. Come to think of it Quaxo still wore that expression often. And he still thought it was still adorable.

Hang on... What did he just think?

None of the threesome (haha threesome!) content mentioned above belongs to me. Nor does Cats for that matter *sigh*.

R & R if you feel so disposed.