Hello again, everyone!

Once again the time has come for me to begin another story and I've been planning this one for months now so I'm hoping it's gonna be good. I'm quite excited for it myself actually so I hope I can live up to my own expectations. It's a strange process really when you plan something thoroughly in your head but then actually come to put it down on paper. It's always different and you wonder how what you've written seems to be nothing at all like what you dreamt up. Even so, I'm gonna do my best.

So, first of all I'd better clarify a few relationships since we all need to be on the same page. To be honest things will become clearer as the story goes on but the only thing I feel I really ought to point out is that Macavity and Misto are definitely not father and son in this story.

Anyway, enough waffle. Let's get down to business…(to defeat the huns! Lol, couldn't resist!)

Curiosity Killed The Cat

Chapter 1

Captivation

A very old, shaggy but kind-looking tomcat finally allowed his aged arms to fall back down to his sides after having held them up in the air gesturing towards the heavens. He took a few deep, weary breaths of relief as he felt blood begin to circulate around them once again and brought his eyes down to see his tribe mimic his actions in their own ways. A warm smile graced his old, withered face that bore the wrinkles and weathering of the innumerable years of his life as he heard the plethora of mixed voices fill the air as they each told of their joy of a successful night. His smile outwardly displayed the exhausted but satisfied feeling within him that every one of the cats before him also seemed to have which showed that once again another Jellicle Ball had drawn to a close. The old tom felt a creak in his neck as he looked around at the large group of tired felines and chuckled partly for the realisation that yet another year had come and gone so quickly and partly for the sight of a small gaggle of kittens a short distance from where he stood that seemed to be falling asleep where they stood.

It was at that moment that he decided to hold off in addressing his tribe and simply took a moment to look around at all of them and allow the great feeling of pride he felt swell within him. Every one of the cats that stood below him from his point of view on top of a large, discarded tyre which sat at the edge of a large clearing in the middle of their junkyard home was so unique and wonderful in their own right and the fact that they comprised such a diverse and fascinating group of beings gave the old tom – their leader – a huge sense of accomplishment. Even though he knew it was far from true that he was responsible for all of their interesting characteristics and personalities he nonetheless was happy that he had guided them all through the years and seen them all grow and explore life in their own ways. He had lived a long time and he felt truly blessed to have done so whilst playing leader to such an inspiring group of cats.

The old tom was nearly lost to his own thoughts – a fairly common occurrence with him – as he viewed his tribe before a magnificent-looking, much younger yet still wise tom spoke to him,

"Dad?" the tom asked in his beautifully eloquent voice that bore the testament of a long, physically demanding night. The word snapped the old tom out of his musings and made him blink under heavy eyelids as he looked down to the silver tabby. "Are you alright?" the younger tom continued.

"Yes. Do excuse me, I rather think all of the excitement has drained me" he replied before politely shielding a yawn.

"Well, congratulations on a successful ball" said the younger tom putting on a smile and trying to hide his own weariness.

"And the same to you. Your leadership was top notch as always"

"Thank you, sir"

"You're welcome, but please do not call me that, Munkustrap. You know how I dislike it"

"Sorry, Dad"

"That's better"

The silver tabby held his paw up to his father and the old tom responded in kind allowing them to graze against each other briefly in respect. It was a common gesture amongst Jellicle cats – the proper word for them – but it seemed to have a much greater significance on such a night. The Jellicle Ball was the one night of the year they gathered to celebrate being Jellicles and the instilment of pride that came with it touched deeply in every one of the cats present.

The two toms – father and son – looked out at the tribe they respectively lead and protected and watched them as they all went around congratulating each other and offering compliments to those who had outdone themselves that evening. It was always the way of the ball such that different tribe members would nominate themselves for ascension to the Heaviside layer – the realm of the Everlasting Cat and the opportunity to begin a new life as a Jellicle – and it was always their mission to try and impress Old Deuteronomy – the old tom that watched them now – enough so that they might be chosen to do so. Many had tried but only one had succeeded despite being a cat none of them had seen in a while. Grizabella was her name and her appearance was both surprising and not entirely welcome. She had disappeared years beforehand to pursue a more glamorous life – in her eyes at least and much to the expense of her family's welfare - and had chosen this night of all nights to try and regain acceptance. Clearly she had succeeded yet there would certainly be quiet murmurs the next day over whether they considered her deserving of such an honour. Even so, those who had not won their chance to go to the Heaviside layer were still warmly commended for their efforts and given many a backslap and 'Very well done!'

It seemed though that none of the Jellicles was more congratulated than one very particular tom who stood at the opposite side of the clearing trying to keep a cool demeanour and prevent his excited pride from bursting out. He was a young tom not too long out of kittenhood but very grownup for his age. He had the most ornate tuxedo pattern in his fur with jet-black contrasting against snowy white and he was the cleverest cat many had ever known. However, the way he maintained such an air of mystery about himself was what made those around him most interested in him. He had always been admired for being clever and this was thanks in some part to a certain mystical ability which he had been born with that wowed more cats than he had ever thought to count. This endearing feature was his ability to practice magic and although he had not entirely come to terms with the extent of his abilities yet he was nonetheless becoming more proficient in his art by the day and had already earned himself the title of 'The Magical Mister Mistoffelees'.

"I'm sure he's dying to let that façade down and show how pleased with himself he really is," said Munkustrap to his father as he watched the gaggle of Jellicles encircle the tux.

"I reckon you're right," replied the old tom, "but that's not his way. "I don't suppose we'll ever again see him behaving as kittenishly as he used to. At least, you and I won't. Perhaps only with those closest to him will he behave in such a manner"

"Well, I thought he certainly seemed to let some of the old Misto shine through this evening. Especially after rescuing you"

Old Deuteronomy just smiled and nodded gently. It was then that Munk got his chance to question his father on his kidnapping that night – an occurrence none of them had expected at all to happen and even less to be resolved in such a way by Mistoffelees. That was the reason the tux was so pleased with himself and really wanted to express his joy over having managed to accomplish such a feat of magic.

"Speaking of which," began Munk in his query, "are you okay after all of that? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Who?" said Old Deuteronomy airily pretending that he didn't know what his son was getting at.

"Macavity. When he kidnapped you."

"No, no, of course not. It was quite an experience though"

"What exactly happened?" asked Munk feeling a pang of shame at not having been able to keep his father from falling prey to the fiend's plan to disrupt their celebrations.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure. It all happened so fast," said the old tom wearily. "He barely said a thing the entire time he had me. I tried to speak with him but he wouldn't even look me in the eye so I'm sure he didn't feel very good about what he was doing"

"You think he felt bad for doing it?"

"I couldn't say. It came as such a surprise but I suppose it shouldn't have done. You remember well that it wasn't the first time he's done something like that"

"I know," said Munk with a slight graveness in his voice and feeling a little bubble of anger well up inside him. That bubble managed to find its way to his face and manifest itself there shortly after he spoke in only the slightest hint of fury. It was enough for Old Deuteronomy to notice though, after all he knew his son better probably than the tabby knew himself.

"There's no need to get angry about it, Munkustrap. I'm fine"

"I know" said the tabby again, "It's just…I hate him…for what he did"

Old Deuteronomy reached out to him and placed a paw on his shoulder making him look up to him from where he stood.

"You're not talking about what happened tonight, are you?"

The tabby shook his head with the slightest exhibition of shame before replying in a low, almost growl,

"No"

"Now, son, you know we don't speak of that anymore. Besides, it's just his way. He'll always do the things he does because he's angry that life has turned out in such a way for him. I wish so deeply that none of it had ever happened but what he did cannot be taken back and as much as it pains me he has to be kept away from us"

Munkustrap simply flicked his eyes downwards,

"I'm sorry I couldn't keep you from harm"

Old Deuteronomy just squeezed his shoulder slightly and smiled,

"I don't think I was ever in harm's way. He wouldn't hurt his own father regardless of how he feels."

"How can you tell?"

"He's my son as much as you are. I raised him and I know that in his heart he'd never go so far as to hurt me"

"How can you be sure though?"

Old Deuteronomy shrugged,

"I just know"

"He wouldn't stop at hurting me though"

The comment made the old tom frown slightly,

"Did he?"

"Yes," said Munk as he turned slightly and stood up straight so as to give his father a clear look at the marks the dangerous cat had given him not an hour ago.

"Oh my. Are you alright?"

"Fine. I'm just angry that he did it"

"Well, son, you're his biggest obstacle in causing mayhem amongst this tribe and that's probably why he feels that if he wants to succeed then he needs to incapacitate you to some degree"

"He's just a coward. I wish he was dead," said Munk spitefully making his father wince inwardly at the harsh words.

"Munkustrap, you shouldn't wish that on anyone. Least of all your brother"

The silver tabby scowled lightly,

"I don't care. He's evil and I hate him for everything that he stands for"

"You know, you two used to be good friends when you were kittens"

"But that changed, didn't it?" said Munk with the same graveness as before and with eyes that reminded the old tom of what a horrible stain what Macavity did in the past left on their tribe's history.

Old Deuteronomy paused and then sighed before carrying on,

"I suppose so…"

There was another pause between them before he spoke again,

"Let's not speak of him anymore. He's already attempted to ruin our night and failed so lets not let him do so in our memories of him"

"Good idea" said Munk more happily.

As if on cue, it was at that moment that a great swarm of Jellicles approached the place at which they were standing and began fussing over their leader. Their first thoughts had been to pour out their appreciation for Mistoffelees but it hadn't taken them long to realise who really needed their attention. Instantly the old tom was inundated with cats asking if he was alright and whether Macavity had hurt him at all. Munk watched as he tried to happily reassure them that he was fine and smiled when his efforts seemed to be in vain.

Turning away he looked out across the clearing to where Mistoffelees had been a moment ago and saw that he was still there and standing alone now whilst watching the rest of the Jellicles fuss over their leader. Munk decided to take the opportunity and started towards him with a noticeably lethargic characteristic to his stride. He could see the small, black and white tom notice him coming towards him and was glad to see his cool exterior soften a little as he approached. In the last few steps Munk took he saw a smile begin to develop on the tux's face and rejoiced internally over being the one that actually managed to break down his wall of cool-headed bravado.

"Here he is, the tom of the hour," said Munk heartily as he reached his paw towards Mistoffelees. The younger tom responded to his gesture in kind and soon cracked his lips into to show a grin that he was so clearly barely containing.

"It was nothing," he said as he tried to stifle a small chuckle of excitement.

"You rescued our leader. I certainly wouldn't say that was nothing, Misto"

The tux chuffed,

"Well, one must do one's duty"

"Well, I think you exceeded yourself tonight" said Munk as he clapped a paw on Misto's shoulder.

"You did too. You took on that cat all by yourself"

Munk flicked his eyes from side to side before quietly saying,

"Well, I wasn't entirely successful. He's a dangerous cat and when he uses some of his more…mystical abilities he's certainly a force to be reckoned with"

Misto paused and looked at Munk curiously,

"Mystical?" he asked. He'd never heard of any other cat besides himself having abilities that might be considered 'mystical'.

"Just some hocus pocus he can do. Never mind" said Munk without noticing the smaller tom's intrigue.

"But what do you-"

Misto was cut off by the sound of Old Deuteronomy calling for their attention from the tyre he stood on with many a Jellicle scattered around him.

"Jellicle Cats!" he said in his wise but powerful tone, "Congratulations to you all on such a successful ball. Year on year you manage to outdo yourselves and this year was no exception. Well done! However, as always the sunlight is coming to end our celebrations and now that dawn has broken I should also like to wish you all a very well-earned day's rest."

A quiet rumble of murmuring emanated between them all briefly detailing how relieved they were to be able to sleep soon. Old Deuteronomy was not finished though and now that a few moments had gone by he changed his expression to one that was both more serious and firm.

"First, though, I would like to address the one thing that interrupted our celebrations tonight. Many of you know the danger of the cat of whom I speak yet just as many of you do not know the menace that is Macavity."

The mention of the evil tom's name set off even more of a tremor amongst the tribe and it wasn't clear whether it was the result of mainly fear or curiosity. In all likelihood it was probably a fifty-fifty split and Old Deuteronomy knew he needed to set his tribe on the right track.

"Please, everyone, listen. Now, you all saw Macavity, with the help of his henchcats, managed to infiltrate our home and kidnap me. I'm glad to tell you that I am fine but I cannot stress enough the sheer amount of danger his presence brings. As I said, many of you do not know about Macavity and I think perhaps it's best that way. Nonetheless, what you should know is that he is not a safe cat to be associated with and you must be on your guard when he is nearby or else he may very well be your downfall. I doubt he will try to cause any more panic amongst us tonight but I cannot be sure. Macavity by nature is the most deceiving, sly, fearsome cat there is and this is surely complemented by his being one of the cleverest cats around. There is no telling what he may be capable of and that is why he cannot be trusted."

A general agreement amongst the tribe slowly permeated its way through to each of them and to those that it had not already been drummed into the message soon sunk in that Macavity was purely and simply danger. That is, it nearly got around to everyone. Misto, still standing right at the back of the group, was hanging on his leader's every word and while he didn't show it the picture he was painting fascinated him. To Misto, Macavity didn't appear as some fearsome, disgusting, evil cat. He seemed to be so much deeper but the fact that Misto didn't know exactly who this cat was made him ever more curious to find out. He knew he shouldn't have felt the way he did but he so desperately wanted to meet this cat he was being forbidden to meet. What if he were like him like Munk had said? Or at least begun to say that is. That little tip that Macavity might have been in some way mystical grabbed Misto and wouldn't let go and as he continued to listen to his leader warn him against the tom he became more and more intrigued as to who he was.

"Jellicle cats, do not be fooled. Macavity is a master of trickery. He can draw you in like a snake but you can be sure that he will bite when you get too close. He can be charming, he can be inspiring but he is never who he appears to be. His mind is a powerhouse and he will always be three steps ahead of you despite how wary you may try to be. While I do not expect any of you to see him again, at least for a while, I cannot plead strongly enough that you exercise caution for the next day or so. He has been within our junkyard and may still be here and so you must not let down your guard when out on your own. I do not mean to scare you but I cannot advise you strongly enough to be wary"

He paused for a moment and a dead silence was what he received in return. All eyes were upon him and it seemed the ghost Macavity had left in the clearing had sucked the life out of their post-ball euphoria. Even now the words being used to describe him were acting as if he were there in the flesh and sending a shiver through all of them. None though seemed to be at a deeper discomfort than one particular queen. About halfway between where Old Deuteronomy stood at the front of the tribe and where Munk stood at the back was a pretty queen with a black, white and golden coat. Her name was Demeter and she was Munk's mate. She was usually a fairly lively queen with quick whit and a sparkle in her smile but now she was not at all at ease. Unbeknownst to almost all of the tribe members she had a darker history involving the evil tom who was being spoken about at that moment. Every time she was made to think about it a shiver zipped up her spine and even now that he was gone from their midst she was straining not to let her internal feelings show. Fortunately for her it was only Munk whose eye was caught by her mild-on-the-outside manifestation of emotional discomfort and seeing her reactions suddenly made him feel lower too. He was one of the few cats that had been privy to the information concerning his mate's past and he felt so sorry for her for being made to remember. It was the cause of his anger only a few moments ago and he only hated Macavity more for what he'd done to his mate and for every clash they'd had in the past. As well as Demeter he too had a black history concerning his brother and the sheer hatred he felt within was magnificent.

They – the cats who knew – rarely spoke of what Macavity had done yet they all knew in their own ways so very well how terrible a cat he was. A combination of who he was in their minds and his actions manifested both fear and rage amongst them but the magnitude of his actions is what forced them never to speak about it. He was a cat who they did not want the rest of their tribe to remember and that is the reason they only ever spoke about him behind closed doors – figuratively of course.

Misto was not a cat who knew about Macavity. That is to say he knew of his existence but he had no idea of the tom's historic actions that caused his tribe-mates to be so secretly loathing of him. He had never even thought too much about him until now. Now everything was different. He suddenly had so many questions but absolutely no answers. Could it be that this cat was so mysterious that any answer to any question might be correct one minute and wrong the next? Could it be that Macavity had similar powers to his own? Could it be that maybe he wasn't alone in the world in regard to his abilities? Most of all, could it be that he was really as bad as they said? If he really was that clever a cat then surely he had a higher level of thinking similar to him. In that case he can't have been that evil, just smart enough to get his way. Maybe they were all just confused or misinformed. Maybe Macavity wasn't so bad. Maybe he was like him: mysterious and simply misunderstood.

Misto stopped listening for a few moments as Old Deuteronomy reverted back to congratulating them about the ball. He had been captivated now and this new, strange cat that he now knew existed in some way was dancing through his mind – or at least what little he knew about him. It seemed to him that he knew barely anything about the cat he had been told about but the way he grabbed him in his entirety amazed him. How could it be that a cat he knew so little of had managed to grip all of his interest and wouldn't let go? That power was what fascinated Misto more than anything. It seemed to connect with him and for a moment the tux felt something inside that he'd never felt before. It was a strange, bright feeling but at the same time as if it were too big to fit inside his body. It was unmistakeably magical but in so many other ways in addition to the ones he already knew of. For that brief moment his heart beat in time with it and it felt as if that strange, unknown cat he had barely had a glimpse of only an hour or two ago was with him. It didn't feel wrong though, it felt amazing.

"Misto?"

Suddenly he was jolted out of his trance and blinked firmly before shaking his head and focusing on Munk who was looking at him with what seemed like concern.

"Are you alright?" the silver tabby asked

Misto paused for a moment but then opened his mouth to speak,

"Yes…I think so. I was somewhere else…"

"You definitely looked like you were a mile away," said Munk with a little more intrigue in his voice. Misto knew he shouldn't reveal exactly what he was thinking about and did his best to look nonchalant.

"I was just…thinking about what a good ball it was. Everything came together surprisingly well"

"Yes, I suppose you're right bar a few mishaps"

Misto thought about asking him about Macavity for a second but then decided it was probably not wise.

"Yes" he said quietly and simply leaving it there. The silence between them eventually led them to tune back into their leader.

"…and finally, my dear Jennyanydots," said the old tom as he rounded off his list of specific congratulations. "You are an inspiration to us all and we send you our deepest appreciation"

"Thank you my dears," said the tabby queen with a big, kindly smile as the sleepy kittens rubbed against her affectionately where she stood.

"Yes, you've all done well," continued the told tom, "And now, without further ado, I finally bid you all a goodnight and sleep well"

With that the large group of Jellicles began to disperse and Old Deuteronomy began to climb down from the big tyre. Munk would have jumped forward to help him but at the moment there was someone else who needed his attention. Misto watched as he quickly trotted over to his mate and spoke to her quietly. He couldn't be sure but he thought he saw the tabby ask if she were okay and then receive a glum nod in return. What he saw for certain was the two then hug tightly and the strange display confused him. That wasn't the biggest thing on his mind though and had it not been for Old Deuteronomy making his way over he would no doubt have been lost in thoughts about Macavity the Mystery Cat.

As soon as he was close enough Misto bowed to Old Deuteronomy and then rose back up with a smile on his face. The old tom simply smiled back and began to thank him again,

"I don't know how you did it but you have a gift, my boy. Thank you again for rescuing me"

"It was nothing, sir. Anything to keep one of our own safe"

The old tom gained a proud twinkle in his eye,

"You've grown into quite the young tom. Mistoffelees. You must know how proud your father is of you"

"Not really, sir. I don't see him as often as I once did"

"Well, you ought to know that he is. Whenever I see him he always boasts of what a wonder you are as a son"

Misto's rolled his eyes internally. It was nice to know that his dad was proud of him but it surely wouldn't hurt him at all to mention once in a while. Still, Misto knew it was his own doing that he didn't really see his father as much anymore. He was always trying to make him into a proper, upstanding gentletom whenever they spent any length of time together and Misto really didn't want to follow the plan that he was expected to follow. He had grown now and was his own cat; he didn't need his daddy polishing him up anymore.

"That's nice to know, sir."

"Good, good. Well, I think I best be off to bed; this old body isn't nearly as energetic as it used to be"

"Oh, I don't know, sir. I reckon you've got a good few years yet"

"Oh, without question!" said Old Deuteronomy with a chuckle, "It'll be decades before they see the last of me!"

"I'll second that, sir. Goodnight"

"Goodnight, Mistoffelees, and thank you again"

Misto watched as their leader slowly doddered away and only looked back when he had exited from his view. He turned just in time to see Demeter part from Munk and head back towards the den they shared as the silver tabby watched her go. They both had identical expressions on their faces and now that Misto had an extra thought to spare he wondered more why they seemed to be so low after such a wonderful ball. Misto thought about asking but was beaten by Munk who spoke first,

"Off to bed then, Misto?"

The tux thought for a moment and then responded cheerfully,

"Nah. I'm not tired. I think I might practice a few tricks for a while"

"Alright, but try and find somewhere else if you can. I'm sure everyone around here would prefer some silence at least for the next few hours or so"

"Okay" said Misto as he watched his protector follow the same line as his mate. "Goodnight"

"Goodnight" said Munk as he got to his den. It was then that a thought struck him and he turned back, "Oh, and Misto, don't forget what Old Deuteronomy said. Keep your wits about you"

"What for?" he asked curiously not remembering Old Deuteronomy's warnings. Munk narrowed his eyebrows for a moment in confusion but then clarified,

"For Macavity. It's unlikely but he might still be around here somewhere. Just be careful and if you come across him don't wait, just run as fast as you can back here and find me, okay?"

Misto knew he should have felt a little nervous at the warning but he didn't. He felt a little tingle somewhere inside and had to suppress a smile at the prospect of meeting the mystery cat.

"Alright" he said in the end.

With that Munk turned back and disappeared into his den. Misto was left alone in the silence of the empty clearing and took a moment just to look around. Barely twenty minutes ago it had been a buzz of dancing and acrobatics but now it was like nothing had even happened. It was strange to think that their ball was like a ghost that simply appeared and then disappeared in much the same way. Still, he had enjoyed himself and he still felt ever so pleased that he'd managed to perform so amazingly.

Spinning on his heels he sauntered off in the opposite direction and allowed his mind to wander freely. He climbed up over the junk and then simply followed where his paws led him. He had nowhere in mind as a destination but he was simply glad to allow the quiet dawn air wash over him and allow him to wind down.

Inside his den, Munkustrap closed his eyes and let out a small sigh of relief. He felt so tired and the distinctive ache in his shoulders and creaking in his hips only served to remind him that he was getting older. Thinking back he tried to remember exactly how many Jellicle Balls he'd lived to see now that another one had passed and groaned internally when he couldn't put an exact number on it. It was a good thing that his coat was both silver and intricate so any signs of age were hidden. He most certainly wasn't what he'd call old but he knew that he wasn't the same spring chicken he used to be.

Opening his eyes again he turned his head to look around his den. Things were in a fair bit of disarray but that was to be expected in the lead up to a ball. Being so crucial to the proceedings meant a lot he had to prepare and there was not a second to be lost on keeping things tidy despite how much he liked things to be in order. Right now he was exhausted and although he wanted everything to be in its proper place he simply couldn't be bothered to do it at that moment. Tomorrow would be fine for that.

Turning his head the other way he looked across to a sight he hoped would be like finding the holy grail: bed. He yearned to throw himself down on the soft cushions it was composed of and simply let himself fall into the deepest sleep imaginable. Truly there was nothing he wanted more at that moment but as he rested his eyes upon the sacred provider of comfort his hopefulness was quickly dashed when he saw the state of his mate who sat at the foot of it.

Demeter was hunched forward slightly and grasped her upper arms tightly with both paws while she looked at the ground with an expression that seemed strangely empty yet sad at the same time. It looked as if she was keeping something stuffed down deep inside of her that desperately wanted to hijack her emotions but she wouldn't let it. Her usual cheery demeanour was missing and she most certainly did not fit the cat she usually was known as.

Munk knew at first glance exactly what the problem was and he too was instantly plunged into the same feeling of depression. He knew all too well from the stories and observations of her past with Macavity and to see the effect it still had on her it made him want to fume. Fortunately for him he was too tired to attempt too much anger and in the end it manifested as simple grief. He wished he could help his mate forget but he knew the mental scars would never go away. That was why he hated Macavity; for leaving such a terrible imprint on the cat he loved more than anything else in the world. In his mind there was no greater evil and he loathed his brother from the messy, fiery fur on the outside to the cold, black heart on the inside.

Slowly the silver tabby stepped forward and sat down next to his mate on the edge of the bed they shared. He looked at her sorrowfully and was made even more so when she didn't look up at him. She continued to look down and noticeably fought with the emotions that wanted to escape from within. Carefully Munk placed one arm around her shoulders and another one around her front before gently pulling her close to him. This time her rigid frame softened a little and she let herself mould to the shape of her tom. He placed a soft kiss on her head as it rested in the crook of his neck and held her for a few moments before saying anything.

"Are you okay?"

The black and gold queen took an audible breath before quietly replying in a strained, tired voice,

"Why did he have to come?"

"Because he's a terror that hates all things joyful. He can't stand that we're all happy without him"

"But why tonight? Why did he have to ruin our ball?"

"Well, it's only ruined if we believe it was ruined. I'll bet that's what he wants so we have to try and believe that it was a success. I think it was, don't you?"

The queen was silent for a moment before replying deeply,

"Not for me. Just to see him again…it brought it all back. And then when he tried to kidnap me too…I was terrified"

Munk felt a tightness within as he listened to the hurt and fear in her voice and he pulled her closer to try and show her that he was there for her.

"Don't let it consume you, dear. Try to forget he ever came"

"I'll try…but it really shook me up…and the memories from all those years ago…they won't go away…"

Munk sighed,

"I know…"

A moment later she said one last thing,

"Thank you for saving me from him…again"

"I'll never let him hurt you a second time…I promise"

The two stayed there for a while without moving. They both needed the comfort and they knew there was no one else that could help either of them through the pain of the past than one another.

Outside the dawn was beginning to bathe the junkyard in an eerie deep blue light that would soon become brighter and turn to radiant pinks and oranges on the horizon. As the day was waiting to begin just over the crest of the earth, the Jellicles were just going to bed and getting ready to hide away for the day. Down from Munk and Demeter's den, across the clearing and up over the junk at the other side began a series of trails that run through the junkyard leading to its many different areas. Many of them led to nowhere in particular and when they reached that ambiguous location they often branched of into further obscure paths. Following along one of them which presented no particular features to separate it from any others nearby it was almost as if the light was left behind and down here, amongst the deepest recesses of the junkyard, the morning was not quite reaching. Moving along this trail the dimness seemed to get even greater and was accompanied by an eerie coolness that would have made the fur stand up on the back of many Jellicles' necks. There was something unsettling about this pathway but somehow it didn't seem to be to do with the pathway itself. Not a sound or movement could be heard or seen along its length and it was very strange for there to be absolutely no activity in any part of the Jellicles' home.

Moving further along the pathway the feeling of danger still would have gripped any unfortunate wanderer and it wasn't until a small enclave at the side of the trail was happened upon that that danger could be truly realised.

All cats were warned of the dangers in life right from when they were kittens. It was only common sense to teach them how to look out for themselves in such a place as a junkyard. There was no knowing exactly what might be lurking out there and despite being safe on the whole it was always wise to be wary – especially in areas which were far from any major hives of feline activity. There was one particular danger that was warned against above all others though and that in most of the Jellicles' minds posed the greatest threat. The exact reasons for which were closely guarded secrets amongst the older generations in an attempt to eliminate any memory of them from their tribe's history. This did not mean, however, that the right warnings weren't given in the right places. Whatever the case, this danger was to be avoided at all costs and every cat for miles around was well versed in tales of caution regarding it; or rather he, for the danger was none other than the Napoleon of Crime himself, Macavity.

He was the reason this particular trail posed such a significant threat this morning after the Jellicle Ball. His very presence radiated danger and his mood was most definitely one to stir up more anger within him making him even more frightful. Just to look at him and see his fiery coat with its threatening pattern, his razor-like claws and his menacingly patterned face would have been enough to send any cat running.

Or at least it would have done. The usual mention of the master criminal would automatically stir up feelings of fear and warning but at this particular moment in time they were not particularly well grounded. It was true that Macavity was always a threat but at that moment he certainly wouldn't have been deemed overly dangerous by any cat that would actually take the time to look upon him before running in fear.

At the edge of the trail away from any of the commotion that had been occurring in the other part of the junkyard the usually sinister, strong, ferocious tom sat in a very awkward position trying to deal with the awful, burning sting from the claw marks on his body with particular focus on his abdomen. Blood stained the fur across his stomach and the once great lord of terror now sat cut down on cold junk reeling from the flurry and failure of his plan to destroy the Jellicle Ball and from the wounds he received in his attempt.

He breathed slowly but heavily with a lingering rage still simmering away inside him that seemed to try to burn nearly as much as the cuts under his fur but couldn't quite reach boiling point. He been planning this night for weeks and it had seemed that his explosion of terror that he had attempted to inflict was unbreakable. He hadn't at all anticipated that even the slightest thing would go wrong but instead of making him more angry when he thought about it he was, in the end, left mostly embarrassed – especially when he remembered that he had actually managed to capture their leader – his father.

That in itself had been a fairly awkward moment for him. Beforehand he had been filled with an outright resentment towards him and deep desire to cause mayhem but then when he had him in his clutches it had all changed. Straight away he felt a strange longing that he was not accustomed to – after all he didn't need anyone; he tricked cats into doing his biding, used them and then spat them out, that was his way and always would be. Why, then, had he suddenly felt so embarrassed for doing what he'd done when he was in the presence of the older tom? Was it because he was his father? Was it because he meant something more to him than just any old cat? Was it simply the look in his deep, unfathomable eyes that struck something within him and reduced him to feeling like a kitten that had done something wrong?

With all the mental strength he could muster he cast those thoughts aside and wished he could reach into his mind and tear them out. He was so confused by everything that had happened and he loathed the fact that here he was sitting on the ground and hiding away from those who had put him in that state and not rejoicing in a successful operation. He wished he could have been angrier but he simply couldn't shake the blanket of shame that wrapped itself around him. He'd messed up badly and he knew that it wouldn't be long before word of it spread and cats everywhere would tell tales of clumsy old Macavity that couldn't so much as creep into a junkyard without being seen.

That wasn't him, he was to be feared and he hated the possibility that he might lose even a tiny bit of his reputation. More than that though he was confused and he wished he could put his mind on pause and take a breather for a moment to try and think clearly.

There was one fact, however, that he was quite clear on. There was a reason his plan had failed and had no chance of being salvaged - oh yes. Even if he was put back a few places when he'd tried to capture Demeter he could have picked back up at that point had it not been for one particular little annoyance that foiled him. As he sat there he clenched his teeth and began to direct what remaining brainpower he had left towards the thought of that bastard little magician's cheap trick and it soon followed that the image of the very cat himself danced through his mind. He couldn't believe that of all the cats that might have tried to stop him it was that tiny black and white mongrel that had actually succeeded.

He hated that Mistoffelees. He hated him because he had gotten in his way and he now had to think of new methods in messing with the Jellicles.

'That's not really true though, is it?' his mind said back to him, 'You don't hate him, you're impressed by him'. A few seconds later his hard exterior faltered and he let out a sigh with the tiniest hint of a smile. 'Touché, Mistoffelees' he then said internally.

Still, he wasn't too fond of the tux. He still felt quite ticked off that he was the reason for his plan not working and after all of the careful planning he'd done. That wasn't the main reason he disliked him though, the main reason was because his mind now took a great interest in him and simply wouldn't let the nag fade away. That power – the unexplainable capture of his mind – was the only power Macavity knew of that could truly overcome him and he did not like Misto for harnessing that despite the tux not even knowing he had done anything. Macavity was simply fascinated and curious – whether he liked it or not – about the potential abilities of this cat. Never before had he known a cat that possessed similar powers to his own and he was annoyed to know that that very cat was a Jellicle. He wanted to know him, to explore his mind and most of all test his power. He desperately wanted to know more about him and that was the reason he started to feel hacked off. How dare he have that effect on him! How dare he indeed!

In a fit of annoyance – much like a spoilt kitten - the fiery red tom lashed his paw out to the side and punched an old paint can that lay next to him leaving it in a horribly dented and crumpled condition after it tumbled to the ground. He was brought back to reality straight away when he felt a stab of pain run from his stomach up to his shoulder and immediately gripped the stinging regions on his person as best he could.

Taking a long, stressful sigh he did his best to calm himself and tried to think clearly. He had to get out of here and get back to his lair, it was the only thing to do now. That, though, was a little more trouble than it seemed and as he attempted to push himself up he only managed to get to his paws before he doubled over in pain and groaned angrily at the offending pangs of discomfort.

Angrily, he gritted his teeth again and forced himself to stand upright whilst trying to ignore the pain from the scratches. He then started to put one paw in front of the other and began to limp back down the trail along which he'd come. He could tell this was not going to be a comfortable journey and he only hoped that none of those blasted Jellicles were out patrolling for him.

As he hobbled and cursed over the restrictions to his movements he thought still about that intriguing tux that wouldn't leave his consciousness. Every step brought new questions about him and he knew that he wasn't going to be easy to forget. Among other things he was his biggest obstacle now and he knew he was going to have to work harder if he wanted to continue to aggravate the tribe that had once cast him out. Aside from that, it was a matter of pride. Nobody got in his way when he had a plan and he couldn't let that bastard Misto get away with it. Somehow, someway he'd cut him down to size.

It wasn't long before he felt strange about using those words in relation to the tux. For some reason - despite all the voices that told him to hate him – he couldn't force himself to follow through with finding real reasons to dislike him. He wanted to but he was simply too fascinated to think otherwise.

'For crying out loud, what's wrong with me?' he thought as he hobbled along. He never thought like that and it felt really strange to do so. He'd definitely have to do something big to make himself feel like Macavity again once he had gotten fixed up. 'Maybe I'll rob a bank…'

To speak of the devil, the very cat who was the subject of Macavity's ironic distaste was currently trotting along one of the junkyard's many quiet trails completely absorbed in his own thoughts and feeling quite pleased with himself. If a fireball had dropped out of the sky and headed straight for him then he probably wouldn't have seen it since he was totally lost in his own mind with thoughts of the flame-coloured cat that had endeavoured to disrupt them that evening.

Who was he? What was he like? Was he magical as well? These were all questions that swirled around and around in Misto's mind but as he continued in his aimless journey he still found that no answers sprung up in front of him. He had no idea why he was so engrossed with Macavity but he had no spare room in his mind to care. He was fascinated and as the minutes ticked by a pressing desire to meet the dangerous tom crept up and jumped on him without the tux noticing. Perhaps it was his curious mind or mysterious nature that made him want to defy the warnings of doing such a thing and the more he listened to the tales of caution he had heard the more he wanted to discover this Napoleon of Crime.

Still, what were the chances of that happening? After all, there he was on a lonely trail in the junkyard they'd just kicked Macavity out of – or rather sent him running from. As the tales about him told, he was probably a mile away by now and maybe even gone for good. As the words passed through his mind he started to feel a little disappointed at that. He knew it would probably have been a bad idea to try it in the first place but still, it would have been fun.

Shrugging it off he plucked his head out of the clouds and refocused on what he was doing. He needed to find somewhere he could play a few tricks without making too much noise as to arouse suspicion. Looking back at where he'd come from he noticed he'd walked a really long way – much further than he'd thought he might in the first place. He really must have been lost in his own little world for a long time and had it not been for the prominence of the trail amongst the junk he knew he probably would have gotten lost. Then again, one couldn't really get lost in the junkyard. It wasn't so big that jumping up on the nearest junk pile couldn't deliver bearings and Misto thought about doing that before he decided just to carry on and see where it led him. He was always prone to thinking like that. There was something within him that always made him want to pursue the mysterious and try as he might he would never lose it.

With a little spring in his step he began to totter off in the same direction once again and it wasn't long before Macavity once again captivated him and left his mind floating a mile high.

The injured, evil tom hadn't managed to get too far before he had to stop again and take a breather. Looking down he saw he wasn't bleeding that much but still had a fairly nasty set of claw marks across his stomach. He gently poked at the sorest part and instantly regretted doing it when he felt another serious sting shoot through him. Straight away he felt even more down and out and was incredibly disappointed not only with his failure but also with himself for being such wimp. He wasn't the type to throw in the towel when he got a little scratched up. Such things – he liked to think – only made him stronger and he knew he'd have to put on quite a show when he got back to his lair. While he had a strong following from his henchcats who seemed to have a deep admiration for him he nonetheless tried to look powerful and indestructible in front of them. He didn't really know if they'd see him differently should he show a more sensitive side and he preferred to eliminate the chance altogether by looking tough in front of everyone. For that matter, he never even acknowledged or even believed that he had a sensitive side. He had never really been in touch with it and he preferred to believe that it didn't exist. What use was sensitivity to a master criminal? Furthermore, what good would it do the reputation he tried to maintain?

As he rested at the side of the trail he sat at the edge of he looked up at the sky in the coolness and silence of the morning air and sighed quietly as he saw the light becoming stronger. Night was a much easier time for him to do his bidding since the cover of darkness always meant he could make an easy escape. Now that the day was arriving he'd have much more trouble keeping out of sight and that certainly put him at a disadvantage.

Heaving his body up once more he steadied himself on his paws, smoothed down his fur as best he could and attempted to carry on. The scratch marks still sung their painful song but in an attempt to reassure himself of his toughness he bit his lip and focused on simply moving forward.

Step after step made him feel all the more triumphant and he happily turned a corner onto a larger trail when he felt he'd gotten up some momentum. Behind him this new trail extended off and eventually curved out his view but it was what was ahead that he was most concentrated on. Off in the distance he could see the junkyard fence and a sneaky smile graced his tired face. Sure, it was a long way off but at least it was in sight. All that mattered now was getting to it, through it and back home so he could go back to the drawing board.

The fiery-coloured tom was so set on his target that he didn't hear the gentle pitter-patter of paws on the trail behind him until they became loud enough to signal that somebody was close by. Instantly he froze and spun his head around to look back fiercely in the direction from which they were coming. He held his breath as he listened intently and surely enough the sound of someone approaching was what he received in return.

'Oh damn…' he thought before flicking his head back and started to desperately look around for somewhere to hide. He was instantly aware that there would be no use in trying to run for it since he'd make such a racket and he knew his scratches probably wouldn't allow him to anyway. Jerking his head back and forth he looked up and down the junk at the sides of the trail for any hint of an escape route but nothing was there. The junk was too high and rickety for him to get up and over it without making a sound and as the approaching paws got closer he began to grow more desperate.

In a split-second decision he quickly focused on the remains of an old ironing board which lay awkwardly at the side of the trail and darted towards it. Very carefully he tucked himself behind it whilst trying to ignore the sting from his abdomen and tried to examine how well he'd hidden himself. In a word it was pitiful and he rolled his eyes at his silly attempt at concealment. He listened out and found the pawfalls were too close now and so he set his sights on trying not to make a sound. If he was found then he knew flight was certainly out of the question and he also knew that he wasn't quite up to fighting at that moment either. He'd have to pray that he wouldn't be happened upon and as such he did his best to still his fervent breathing which seemed to be conspiring with his fast beating heart to make him audible enough to be found.

He found it strange that he hadn't come to a clearing by now. Usually a quiet, private spot could be found anywhere in the junkyard and Misto was a little confused as to why he hadn't thus far. Then again, he hadn't really been looking properly since he was preoccupied with daydreaming about Macavity. It was only now that he realised how much he had been thinking about the dastardly tom.

He stopped and shook his head. It was time to stop thinking about him despite how difficult that might be because he was never going to meet him. Even if they did meet then he certainly knew it wouldn't be a fine 'howdy do'. It would probably be just as dangerous as the tales about him told and then he'd be in quite a pickle. Then again, how was he to be sure that the things they said about him were true without verifying them for himself? It was only right to consider all points of view before forming an opinion, right?

"Everlasting Cat, stop it Mistoffelees!" he said into the silent morning air. He had to stop going backwards and forwards in these thoughts. He was going in circles and he had to try and put it out of his mind. In all seriousness it was probably a good idea to avoid Macavity at all costs despite how much he wanted to pry further. He'd seen first hand how dangerous he was that very night so why did he need any more confirmation that that?

Shaking his head once more he looked up at the junk that composed the sides of the trail and could see the sunlight beginning to shine on the very tops of the tallest piles. The day was beginning properly and he hadn't played with his magic even a little bit yet. Pretty soon he too would have to retire but he desperately wanted have a little fun before then.

He decided to quicken his pace and find somewhere decent to practice. No more thoughts about Macavity and no more distractions. Back to serious matters and make no mistake.

As he continued to quickly pad along the trail he felt the thoughts of Macavity try to infiltrate his curious mind again but instead of allowing them to consume him he put up the strongest mental block he could muster. 'Not now' he told himself and directed his vision ahead. As he carried on he became so concentrated on fending off those thoughts he once again forgot exactly what it was he was trying to do as well as losing interest in the path in front of him. As a result he motored along without any clear direction and a fairly determined look on his face. As he quickly went around corners he was so engrossed that he didn't even notice a quiet scuffling up ahead and simply carried on in his aimless padding.

It was not until he rounded one more corner that he was suddenly filled with an incredible tingling feeling that rushed through him, took his breath away and made his fur stand on end. It was the same feeling as when he discharged magic and it took him by such surprise that he stopped dead in his tracks with his eyes wide and staring straight ahead.

Now that he was still he noticed how incredibly quiet it was with not even the morning chorus of birdsong to keep him company. The light was still there but for some reason it felt cooler than it had been a minute ago and there was something in the air that felt both wonderful and terrible at the same time. It was the most peculiar feeling he'd ever felt, or at least nearly since he distinctly remembered feeling exactly the same only a few hours ago. It had come as a complete surprise but it felt absolutely amazing and he'd had to hide himself away so he could come to terms with it whilst the chaos of Macavity's presence went on in the clearing. He had watched the dangerous tom fight many of his fellow Jellicles but hadn't, at that time, had the mental drive to jump in and help. He had been captivated by the grace and elegance of the menacing cat's movements even though he was fighting his protector and terrorizing his tribe that same tingle he felt then filled him now.

It was then that his natural feline senses kicked in and suddenly he was put very much on edge. It even crossed over by the slightest bit into fear and straight away he spun on his paws and looked around at the junk that surrounded him. Something was definitely not right and he definitely felt as if he shouldn't have been there. Was it danger? Maybe. All he knew was that his intuition was sounding the alarm and he had to get ready for whatever came his way.

As quietly as he could he swallowed hard and called out into the eerily silent morning air with none of his usual coolness or detached demeanour.

"Hello?" he called meekly as he continued to look around.

Only silence came back at him.

"Is anybody there?" he called again with a slight quiver.

Once more he received only silence in return but that didn't serve to make him feel any more at ease. It was almost as if he was aware of the deep green, staring eyes silently watching him from only a few feet away.

Macavity was stuck behind his ironing board hiding place. Not physically by any means but by his loss for thought. He had hoped whoever it was might have just carried on their way but, of course, it hadn't been as simple as that. Nor had he quickly managed to adapt to the changes for no sooner had he swivelled his head to see the passing cat he was suddenly awestruck by exactly who it was before him. It was unmistakeably that same cat that had earlier ruined his plan and brought back Old Deuteronomy from where he was holding him. This was the cat that resulted in him being in such a mess and he was quite dumbfounded to see that there he was standing in front of him as if he'd been served up on a platter. This was definitely that same Magical Mister Mistoffelees.

What was he to do? He hadn't planned for this by any means and so many thoughts seemed to fly at him all at once. Voice after voice in his head commanded him to do their bidding but none were stronger than the sultry tones suggesting that this moment was far more an opportunity than it was yet another slip-up. Straight away thoughts of what he could do started flooding into his mind and it seemed a shame to waste the almost too perfect moment. He could pounce on this Mistoffelees without him even knowing he was there and give him a piece of his mind for ruining his plan. Alternatively, he could burst out terrifyingly and frighten the life out of him before sending him running back to his idiot tribe-mates.

That all sounded good to him and he even went so far as letting an evil smile grace his lips for a moment. It seemed too good to be true before he realised that in fact it actually was. Needless to say his scratches were still hurting and despite how tough he tried to make himself believe he was there was no way of ignoring the sting that hung around in his abdomen. Trying anything now would simply add insult to injury of his massive failure of a night and he knew he really couldn't afford to lose any more face.

Besides, he was still interested in this cat. He'd been thinking about him on and off for a while now and he couldn't shake the desire to pick his brain and test his strength. Still, he was annoyed with him and was not happy about his intervention ruining his plan.

It was this logic that soon made him realise as he watched the timid-looking Mistoffelees try to figure out exactly why he felt so strange that he could accomplish a good scare without hurting himself too badly by simply looking terrifying since, above most things, that was what he was really good at.

As he anticipated the spectacular scare he was about to give that dratted tuxedo he had to force a heinous laugh which tried to wriggle its way out of him back down inside. This was going to be good and the mere expectation of causing such a reaction in any cat was enough to make him feel devilish and he loved it. The feeling of being bad he'd come to adore since he realised a long time ago that he was brilliant at causing a riot. The feeling of innate power that was brought with it was heavenly and even now it began to bubble and spit inside him. Perhaps this night wouldn't be a total let down after all.

Carefully and silently the blazingly-patterned tom began to untangle himself from the ball he had screwed himself up into behind the rickety, old ironing board and began to move out onto the trail before getting ready to put on the most menacing look he could muster.

This was going to be fun, he could tell.

Things definitely didn't feel right; not necessarily bad, just not right. It was as if there was something that he couldn't quite see but he knew was there and unfortunately for Misto the undying curiosity that spurred him on would not let up even for a moment. That strange, magical feeling inside was also hanging around and it seemed to be getting stronger by the moment. It put a small smile on his face as he anticipated finding out what it was but at the same time left him feeling slightly uneasy. He didn't know whether this feeling was danger or interest or anything like that but he did know that he wanted to find out what it was. Surely it couldn't be that bad.

A tiny shuffling behind him made him turn his head quickly with a flicker of glee hoping to happen upon what he had been feeling but was greeted with nothing apart from junk and the trail he had come along. He was sure he'd heard something though and turned the rest of his body to start looking from side to side expectantly. He couldn't wait for his reward now and he felt as if fate were teasing him by not letting him have it.

"Hello?" he called again to the silent surroundings and listened as hard as he could for any sign of a reply or even the breathing of the tiniest mouse.

It then dawned on him and straight away he felt incredibly stupid. With disappointment and humiliation he let his body slump and looked down to the ground with a heavy sigh. All this excitement, all this anticipation over the tiniest feeling of something there and the expectant feeling he received from the tiny scuffle, it was all either a mouse or a rat. They were everywhere in the junkyard, they were their main source of nutrition and one wouldn't have to dig for too long to pluck one out of the junk.

"Oh, Misto…" the tux said to himself as he tried to suck up the stupidity he felt. Had he been daydreaming so much that even now the ordinary goings-on of the junkyard presented themselves to him as an adventure ready to be grabbed by the reins? It seemed to be that way and as he straightened himself back up he shook his head and kicked himself mentally for allowing his imagination to run away with him.

'You're cleverer than this' he told himself before turning back around with a disappointed look about him.

He practically leapt out of his fur when he was suddenly confronted with what was there to greet him and jumped back in shock, tripped on some junk that lay scattered on the ground, stumbled backwards a short way before losing his balance and falling whilst flailing his arms wildly and finally landing hard on his behind amongst the junk at one side of the trail. The very second he saw what had frightened him so much his lungs seemed to constrict and the only sound he could manage was a small yet fearful squeak of the first part of his terror's name before he began his erratic fall. The outlandishly comical display elicited a loud, devilish laugh from the heinous cat that caused Misto's fall who now towered over Misto from his position which imposed upon the entire trail and he didn't hesitate in giving a flash of his sharp, gleaming teeth and a piercing, scary stare of his eyes which bore down on the tux like a pickaxe.

For a second or two Misto's mind was locked out to all thought since the sheer impact of Macavity's appearance practically knocked seven bells out of him. When he peered up from the pile of junk he was splayed upon the second look at the fiery tom hit him just as hard as the first only this time allowing him to hold onto some slightly rational brainpower and producing a shocked gurgle instead of a squeak. He couldn't muster a spare thought to step back from himself and consider his reaction but that was because he was quite rightly absolutely petrified; half from fear and half from the sheer surprise of the dangerous tom just appearing out of nowhere. He simply couldn't think about anything else.

Macavity had to control himself and hold back some of the triumphant feeling he felt within. In that simple action he'd won back all the face he'd lost and the pleasure he took from it desperately wanted to explode with joy. He couldn't let up now though, he had to keep up the façade and maybe, just maybe he could squeeze every last drop of enjoyment available from the reaction of this weedy, little cat before him and be able to call the night at least a partial success.

Misto was still in too much of a stupor to do anything sensible - such as getting up and running as fast as his legs would carry him – and he continued to lay there propped up on one elbow looking at the terrifying tom towering over him with both awe and fright. He didn't get as far as his face but he could quite clearly see the gleam from his teeth as he grinned maniacally and the terrible sharpness of his claws. Those were what scared him the most but some of that fear was relieved by his instant fascination with the sheer size of the enormous tom – a fascination which grew as he started to pick out some more interesting features such as his blazing, untameable head fur or huge, powerful muscles.

"Ma-…Ma-…." he began to stutter as he felt his powers of speech return to him. As soon as he realised he couldn't finish the word he quickly bit his lip simply stared back with wide, nervous eyes.

The bigger tom glared down at him with the same grin and couldn't have been more pleased with the way this was going. Misto was almost wetting himself from shock and had been knocked so bandy that he wasn't even trying to make a break for it. The annoying thing, though, was that he wanted more. He craved this very reaction he was able to draw out of cats and something sick inside him fed on it hungrily. He had to get more, he just had to advance on this Mistoffelees.

Feeling cocky, he began to raise his leg to step forward and grab the smaller tom. Unfortunately for him his internal triumph had completely marred the memory of his current injuries and as such he didn't take into consideration the implications of walking. No sooner had he lifted his paw off of the ground did a shock of pain rip from his naval all the way up to his shoulder. It was the worst shock of pain he'd had yet and it came as such a surprise that he instantly lost his menace, cringed and cried out quickly before doubling over and dropping to his knees whilst looking down at the ground and clutching his sore abdomen. Misto took the sudden action as an attack and instantly covered his face and curled up into a ball to try and protect himself. There they stayed for a long time with Macavity panting slowly and wincing as he waited for the pain to fade away and Misto keeping stock still waiting for any kind of contact.

Both cats were still in their respective positions as one cowered whilst waiting for the unthinkable and the other tried not to appear too much of a baby whilst dealing with his pain. Eventually it was Misto who peaked out from behind his paws and looked over at the slumped head of Macavity. Suddenly he felt quite confused and moved his paws even more to get a better look at the tom who he had not one minute ago assumed had been poised to attack him. It seemed strange that the Napoleon of Crime could go from menace to misery in such a foul swoop and he even went so far as blinking and shaking his head to make sure he had the right cat and that it wasn't some kind of trick.

After a few more seconds had gone by the small, black and white tux sat up properly and looked down on the formerly scary cat. It was only then that he actually took the time to take in all of him and it wasn't long before his familiar feeling of wonder once again took hold and one particular words resonated in his mind: 'Wow'. He couldn't see his face but that didn't matter; he was surprisingly handsome from any angle – a characteristic Misto hadn't expected at all – and since they were now closer he could see just how intricate and amazing the dangerous cat's coat was. It was almost hypnotic in its detail and shocking look and after a few moments Misto remembered that the artful fur was covering the living, breathing being he had been startled by only a minute ago. For some reason he didn't look quite so threatening anymore and the fear Misto felt quickly started to seep away. The bigger tom looked as if he was hurt and Misto could see quite clearly he was clutching his stomach. Very tenderly and without forgetting to be cautious he decided to try and make contact – especially now since he felt the quiver in his voice had disappeared.

"Macavity?" he asked very quietly and waited for any kind of response from the cat before him.

At the mere mention of his name Macavity felt even more stupid and embarrassed. He'd gone from one hundred to zero in less than a second and he couldn't believe he'd let it happen again. Moreover he couldn't believe that something that had seemed so easy for him could have failed so spectacularly and most of all he was dumbfounded at what a complete write-off the entire night now was. Everything truly sucked now and he was so embarrassed he just wanted to crawl off into a hole and hide away from the world – a sentiment that only served to make him feel even lower than his current rock bottom. That most definitely was not a way he ever expected himself to feel; he was Macavity, he wasn't supposed to have feelings of self-pity!

Still, what else could he do now? He couldn't run, he couldn't even get up and now the little bastard he'd been scaring was speaking to him without even a hint of fear? It was all wrong and he really didn't want to acknowledge the cat that sat only a few feet away.

"Macavity?" asked Misto with a little more gusto this time.

The red tom exhaled with a strained sound before finally conceding to an angry reply,

"Just get out of here, will you?" he said with a growl.

Misto took another long moment before responding since he once again found himself utterly perplexed with his daydream becoming reality. There Macavity was with all the answers to his questions locked up inside of him in some way and it seemed unreal that his fantasy was just that: real. He felt his excitement begin to bubble up again and even went so far as beginning to smile.

He paused abruptly once more when he refocused on the tom's arm wrapped around his abdomen.

"Are you alright?"

"Did I not just tell you to leave?" said Macavity with even more annoyance which he knew was only there to conceal of his embarrassment.

Misto shut up once again but didn't move from his sitting position. The two just stayed there with the tux watching the bigger tom intently with only the sound of their breathing permeating the air.

Eventually Misto decided to try again,

"What's wrong?"

Macavity huffed,

"You and your blasted questions are what's wrong. Can't you see I'm in no mood to be interrogated, you little swine?"

Misto narrowed his eyebrows slightly,

"I was only asking if you were okay"

"I'll be fine once you leave me alone"

Misto paused again to examine him. The growing light seemed to make his fur become even more vibrant and he began to feel a strange, butterfly-like feeling at the base of his stomach and a slight airy feeling in his head. He didn't understand it and was even more confused when he suddenly felt embarrassed. Nonetheless, he was drawn to this curious cat and the more he seemed to try and push him away the more he was compelled to get closer.

"You look like you could use some help"

Macavity's closed eyes – while still pointed to the ground - shot open and stared down at the earth with disbelief. Was that prissy, little magician being arrogant with him? Was he actually going as far as taking pity and feeling high and mighty? That bastard! How dare he try to be the one in control?

Macavity was angry now and he wasn't about to let Misto get away with it. Injuries or no injuries this cat was going to get a piece of his mind and one way or another he'd knock some sense back into him and make him afraid.

Rearing his head up in the most powerful manner he could manage he set himself to glare fiercely at the tux and got himself ready to administer one hell of a scolding. As he went he took in a deep breath and felt fire begin to move up his throat as he readied himself to bear down on the contemptuous, little runt before him.

With one final swoop he flicked his eyes the rest of the way, opened his mouth and nearly began to shout before he suddenly caught Misto's eyes. Instantly his words caught in his throat and the wind was taken out of him. He widened his eyes in awe and let his mouth drop open slightly in amazement. Suddenly, all of the tension he'd built up in his body from his anger drained away. He never experienced feelings like this, especially not for the reason he was in such a predicament at that moment and that reason, despite how much a right-minded Macavity would deny it, was because Misto – who stared back with a genuine pang of concern – was absolutely and unequivocally the most beautiful cat he'd ever seen.

In the blink of an eye Macavity felt his heart leapt into his throat and he nearly choked on the spectacular sensation he felt rock his body. The pain had all gone away in its place was a world-rocking tingle that quite simply made him forget absolutely everything in the entire world apart from the exquisite tom who sat so gracefully before his very eyes. His delicate features, his impossibly blue eyes, the angelic shape of his mouth which curled so elegantly into the most wonderful of smiles; it all left him completely stupefied with marvel.

In the same way, Misto was totally gobsmacked by Macavity. He'd seen his body, his mane and experienced the aura of power and strength the red cat gave off but none of that compared to the sheer artistry of his face. The pattern, the colour, the neatness and grace of the fur were beyond comprehension and his handsomeness was unlike anything Misto had ever known. He was captivated and simply could not force himself to stop looking into the unthinkably magnificent cat's eyes.

All of this, though, was nowhere nearly as comparable to the sudden energy they both felt inside. Words to describe it simply did not exist and for one brief moment they both felt their hearts beat in time. It was like some divine, mystical connection that lasted only for a second but was more wonderful and more profound than anything either of them had ever felt. It was totally indescribable and was not equalled by anything.

On and on they stared totally captivated by the sight of each other before Macavity realized what he was doing and abruptly looked away hoping the redness appearing in his cheeks wouldn't show through the fur that covered them. Misto looked on but instantly lost his look of awe. He felt happy now and somehow warm and let his happiness shine through on his face. That short moment they'd spent lost in each other was the climax of the tingling he'd felt earlier and he now truly felt that he'd found his reward.

Macavity was not so thrilled and had simply given up trying to regain his honour or even maintain a scary façade. There were no more ropes left to grasp at now and he knew trying would be in vain. With a frustrated sigh he slowly pushed against the ground with his arms and attempted to move onto his paws so he could slink away quietly. He felt horribly conflicted when he realised that as much as he wanted to do that he felt he really didn't want to so he could keep looking at the amazing Misto. The thought both shamed him and congratulated him but it was eventually the former that won over and spurred him onto getting up. He should have known really that such an action was easier said than done for as soon as he tried to rise the pain came back and he once again winced and clutched his stomach whilst stifling a moan.

It was only now that Misto had been given the time to truly take in the magnificence of Macavity that he was able to think of things other than that and as such noticed the not-so-scary-anymore cat's painful grimace. Forgetting everything else including the fiery tom's earlier attempt at making all hell break loose in the junkyard he suddenly felt concerned for him and desperately wanted to help him. He should have known what a dangerous thing his tribe-mates would say that was but he was, of course, Mistoffelees and he never did anything the normal way.

Gingerly he began to extend his paw towards Macavity with a slightly pitying look on his face and just before he touched him spoke softly,

"Let me help you"

Macavity took it as some kind of snide, backward taunting and was in no mood to be treated that way despite feeling so incredibly drawn to him. What was he supposed to do though? He wanted to yell at him but just couldn't and that left him with very few options. Once again he raised his head but his attempt at replying, of course, caught in his throat when he laid eyes on Misto.

"Please" said Misto kindly and this time making Macavity notice the sentiment in his voice, "Maybe I can help"

The red tom very gently raised his head slightly more and flicked his eyes all over the tux looking for any sign of deceit. He took a moment to attempt a glare at him and weigh up his options but it wasn't long before he realised that there really wasn't anything else to lose.

"Don't try anything funny" he said with only the lightest flicker of objection since he was still so engrossed in fascination with him.

Misto was suddenly filled with glee at the prospect of being able to get an even closer look at his current enthrallment and almost jumped over to the bigger tom's side. With a happy smile he stooped his head down to look underneath him since he was on all fours – or rather three with one arm wrapped around his waist - and took a good look at what was there. At first he felt a little giggly at the sight of Macavity's pure, white chest and thought it incredibly cute for a tom of his reputation. Macavity didn't notice the reaction since his gaze was locked on one of Misto's paws which rested on the ground while he looked at him. Even it was beautiful and the angriness and shame towards being examined by a Jellicle magically floated away.

Misto's sentiment of cuteness didn't last long as he moved his eyes down the tom's front and came to the section where reddish brown stains infringed on that whiteness. Most of the blood was dry now and fully set into his fur but he couldn't be sure since the tom's arm was still covering the parts with what he assumed were injuries.

"What happened?" asked Misto lightly.

"All of you are what happened. Don't you remember? You all set on me at once"

Misto thought back and come up with nothing,

"I don't remember"

"Well, I didn't do it to myself" said the red tom with less anger than should have been expected from him. He was still looking at Misto's dainty paw and letting his mind wander to the idea of how wonderful it must have been to hold it – an idea that if he were in the right mind would probably have made him vomit.

"Well, you probably deserved it" replied Misto with a noticeable smugness and reached up to touch the arm which was wrapped around the bigger tom's abdomen. Macavity flinched slightly when he did so and Misto paused for a second or two feeling the same butterflies from before jump around in his tummy. It was fantastically exciting to actually be touching him and he even felt a small swoon as he felt the power of the muscles under his fur.

Very carefully he began to move Macavity's arm away from the bloodier area on his person and made sure to slow down when he felt the bigger tom stiffen up whilst hiding the pain. When it was far enough away he stooped low again and looked at the now uncovered injuries which lay under his fur. They weren't too bad but were deep and jagged enough to cause anyone a fair bit of discomfort. Misto knew he couldn't fix them but he could at least take the pain away for him.

Drawing some magic into his paw he reached out and lightly placed his paw over the scratch marks on Macavity and gently rubbed them making sure not to miss even the tiniest part. Straight away the bigger tom felt the soothing, cool relief of Misto's magic and lost himself in the painless delight he now found himself in. Forgetting himself momentarily, he closed his eyes and revelled in the feeling of painlessness once again and behind his eyelids was greeted with images of the beautiful Misto while he let out soft moans of relief and pleasure. This tux was amazing and he couldn't believe how simply wonderful the things he could do were. Now that the pain had stopped he was able to think on a higher level again and found a new captivation with the magician's abilities. If he could do what he was doing at that moment and was able to make cats appear out of nowhere like he had done earlier then what else was he capable of? He knew he'd love to find out and suddenly found himself delighted that he'd found someone so interesting. He'd never felt so great about any other cat before and he knew there was definitely something special that they shared. It was more than magic, he knew that to be truer than anything else.

Macavity's eyes blasted open in shock at the sound of his own thoughts and instantly bolted his head around to Misto who looked back at him with surprise as he rubbed his now painless stomach. What the hell was happening? This was utterly ludicrous! He was Macavity! Not some lazy, pampered housecat that liked having his tummy tickled! He was the Napoleon of Crime, for crying out loud! How could he have allowed himself to end up in such a position with the supposedly Magical Mister Mistoffelees stroking his belly?

In one quick motion he threw himself back and jumped onto his paws striking Misto in the process and throwing him onto his back with a thud. He felt like himself again now and towered over the seemingly tiny tux who could not have been more confused at what had just happened. Macavity was no stranger to that confusion either and looked down at Misto in disbelief. Over precisely what he didn't know and simply didn't understand his feelings. His mind told him to kick this stupid Jellicle while he was down but his heart begged him to help him back up. What was going on in his mind? How could he have had such a change of heart and over one silly little tuxedo tom? He was so conflicted and he just didn't know what to do.

On he looked breathing heavily and not coming up with any ideas for how to carry on. Misto pulled himself together and stared back up at him whilst giving him a look as if to beg 'Why?' For some unfathomable reason that very look cut through Macavity and only made him feel even more conflicted.

With a frustrated, embarrassed groan the big, red tom took off running towards the junkyard fence and before Misto had time even to turn his head and follow him he was gone. Misto was left alone on that lonely junkyard trail wondering what on earth had just happened and wondered even if he'd done something wrong. He still felt no closer to any answers to the questions that still floated around in his mind and was now left with an utter confusion which he could make neither head nor tail of.

Who was Macavity and why did he still feel so unyieldingly drawn to him? He was simply amazing but the truly bizarre thing about it was he didn't know why.

Macavity threw himself back against a brick wall and stood there panting heavily after having bolted for the junkyard fence, scaled it as if it were the size of a molehill and then sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him to where he was now.

He couldn't believe what had just happened, he simply could not believe it. Mistoffelees; that smug, high and mighty whelp of a cat! That amazing, wonderful, inspiring, perfect Mistoffelees that had ruined his entire plan to mess with the Jellicles! He had rubbed his stomach to make the pain from injuries go away and the awful thing was that he had liked it – nay, loved it. It had felt so good and he had for some reason felt incredibly close to him. What on earth was going on?

Macavity gripped the fur on his head, closed his eyes and groaned angrily as he tried to make sense of what he'd allowed to happen and the way it had made him feel. He didn't have feelings like he'd had back there; he knew he quite simply didn't have them in him.

So why were they unmistakeably real and still hovering around him making his heart flutter?

"Everlasting Cat!" he desperately said to himself through his pants as he looked up to the sky as if he were in pain again and wished it would all go away. He didn't want to feel like he did, he despised and wished it was gone but at the same time couldn't deny it was one of the best feelings he'd ever had. It was truly magical and despite how much he wanted to tell himself it was a lie he just couldn't. It was amazing and he couldn't get Misto out of his head. He had to see him again, he had to have more of him! But why?

He hated himself for this. He hated the feelings which had this power over him but every time he tried to believe himself the picture of Misto's beautiful, angelic eyes appeared in his mind again and he just couldn't do it. Those were the sweetest, deepest most amazing eyes he'd ever seen and he couldn't get them out of his head.

With another shout of frustration he threw himself away from the wall and took off running again. Within seconds he had disappeared leaving behind a brightening morning with a strange kind of mystery in the air.

First Chapter done!

Yeah, I know, crazy long. If you managed to get this far though I salute you and say well done for sticking it out. Things are gonna get really good, I promise!

I should probably tell you that I intend for most if not all of the chapters to be around this length or at lest approaching the ten thousand mark. I've decided that I want to keep the chapters fairly uniform in size and since they'll be longer I'll be able to flesh out storylines properly – or at least I hope I will. Considering this it might take me a couple of weeks to get a chapter up from time to time so don't think I've given up if I take a while to update.

Awesome sexy news! Seeing Cats next week! The German touring cast is going to Mannheim and since I'm on this exchange to Frankfurt – the nearest big city – I'll be right there ready to lap it all up!

Even more awesome sexy news! It has recently come to my attention that there's talk of a Cats revival in London in 2013/14! Nothing set in stone yet but I hit the ceiling when I found out. Fantastically excited for it to come home to the West End!

So, thanks for reading! It's feels great to be back at the writing again and I hope you all enjoy this story. If you managed to get through it then please leave me a review letting me know what you think and whether you like how I've set it up. As I always say: if it sucks, tell me and I'll try and make it better.

Thanks again, see you in the next chapter!