Electra’s Fanfic

 Chapter Two

Victoria's huge black eyes blinked open wearily, and she waited patiently for her sight to adjust to the complete darkness. Suddenly, a soft whimper was heard directly beside her, and she jumped instinctively, emitting a startled yelp. She blinked several times until she could see her surroundings, and her eyes wandered around to find Etcetera, curled up in a pathetic, muddy ball of fur, whimpering for fright.

Victoria looked down at her own body, and was exceedingly disheartened to find that the usually pristine, beautiful white coat was caked with dry mud; so much so that she barely recognized herself. She sniffed in disgust and tried to rub it away with her paws, but in the end, she only succeeded in smearing it more into her fur. Etcetera's whimpering grew louder and louder until it became a mournful howl, and Victoria, resolving not to let any of the toms see her until she was more presentable, went over to comfort her friend.

"There, there," soothed the white cat, stroking Etcetera's dirty ears, "it will be all right." Etcetera quieted her cries until they were only choked sobs, and as she listened to her friend's comforting voice, snuggled up against Victoria and sniveled quietly.

Victoria tried her best to imitate Jennyanydots, when she often comforted Pouncival after he had gotten into another fight with Tumblebrutus-- usually over Sillabub.

Sillabub!

That reminded Victoria: where was Sillabub? Where was everyone? Where were the other Jellicles? Oh, yes. Now she remembered. She and the other kittens had been taken away from Munkustrap during the Jellicle Ball. She recalled being handled roughly by some gruff, ugly cats with very sharp claws… she had kicked and spat, making one of them bleed… then they had handed her off to a gentler cat, one who caressed her as he calmed her down. Victoria recalled he had had a sad, quiet, and very… familiar voice. She tried to remember more, but from that point on everything became very blurry… fuzzy, distorted, like a dream. She expected she had probably been knocked out, and taken here.

Here? But where was here? Of one thing, Victoria was certain: it was very, very cold. She shuddered, and Etcetera stirred and whispered,

"It smells in here, Vicki. And I'm cold. And I'm scared!"

"So am I," she comforted, patting Etcetera's head. "I'm going to try to figure out where we are, all right? Just stay here. I'll be right back."

Victoria padded silently around their small cell. It was circular, and from what she could tell, its walls and floor were made of some sort of metal. The floor she walked on was lined with filthy sheets of rotting newspaper. She peered upward, and found there was a small crack in the ceiling, which threw a tiny ray of daylight onto the floor. The white cat furrowed her brow in a very unladylike way and puzzled herself over her surroundings. But suddenly, Etcetera's voice broke into Victoria's train of thought.

"Vicki, I know where we are," Etcetera offered quietly. Victoria looked up, suddenly interested.

"Where?" she asked eagerly. Etcetera held up a dirty yellow-brown banana peel.

"We're in a giant trash can," she muttered, unsmiling. Victoria looked around and nodded slowly, realizing her companion was right.

Etcetera sniffled, threatening to cry again, but Victoria hurried to her and cradled her head in her lap, muttering comforting words.

"Ssshh…" she whispered. "It will be all right." She rocked Etcetera back and forth, still trying to convince herself that her own words were true.

* * * * * *

Back in the junkyard, the adult cats were all still very distraught about the happenings of the previous night. Unanimously, they had agreed to call off the Jellicle Ball. It was the first time that had happened, ever, in the history the Jellicles. But of all of them, the cat who was the most upset was Rumpelteazer.

No one else knew that it was Mungojerrie that had taken the kittens; Rumpel had made sure of that. In the best interest of her tom, she had resolved to keep the other Jellicles from knowing the truth at all costs; even if it meant rescuing the kittens by herself. If they ever knew, who knows what they'd do to Mungojerrie when-- if ever-- he came back. Rumpelteazer shuddered involuntarily at the thought. No, she would protect her love to all extremes. She decided that if she was going to rescue the kittens and get Mungojerrie back, she was going to need a plan, so she set about formulating one immediately.

* * * * * *

Mungojerrie sat alone in a tree in his family's garden, thinking guilty thoughts and scowling profoundly. He couldn't remember the last time he had even smiled. Being in Macavity's gang sure wasn't turning out as all it was cracked up to be. And it sure wasn't doing anything for his relationship with Rumpelteazer, either; she had barely spoken to him for weeks. And now, after last night… Mungo wouldn't be surprised if she never wanted to lay eyes on him again. He still didn't understand why he'd agreed to do it; he loved all the Jellicles! How could he hurt them so?

He could hear someone playing Pachelbel's Canon in D on the piano from inside the house. He had always loved the sound of that song. It reminded him of Rumpel.

Rumpel.

How could he ever face her again? He loved her so, how could he get through life without her? He couldn't, he decided. He would just have to go and talk with her, explain himself. That decision out of the way, Mungo scampered down out of the tree and trotted confidently down the street, humming the Canon in D.

* * * * * *

The Rum Tum Tugger sat with Bombalurina atop the trunk of the old yellow car. And wherever Bombalurina was, it was certain Demeter would never be too far away. And since Bombalurina was very often with Tugger, the trio was nearly inseperable. Demeter watched her sister and Tugger from the pipe, where she was curled up in forlorn silence.

"Nothing's the same around here now," mumbled Tugger, pouting. He was taking this business with the kittens much harder than anyone had expected he would. "Nothing seems right. It's too quiet. It's… it's…" His voice trailed off and he sniffled, blinking furiously to hold back the impending tears.

Bombalurina eyed him strangely and leaned back, looking at him sideways. This was definitely not the Tugger she knew and loved. She had often wished he would be more sensitive, but the Rum Tum Tugger, almost in tears? Now that was a bit much. Obviously, she had underestimated the size of his heart. Now, if only she could get him to settle down, stay faithful to her… ha, ha! She laughed inwardly at the thought. She told herself she was lucky. She and Mistoffelees were the only two cats Tugger ever confided it.

Suddenly, a single tear dripped from Tugger's eye, but he swiped a paw across his face furiously, destroying the droplet. Then he turned his head away from Bombalurina, hoping she hadn't seen. But no such luck.

"Tugger, are you crying?" she questioned gently. At that, Tugger stood up abruptly and thwupped his mane at her indignantly.

"Me? Crying?" he growled incredulously, "of course not! There's some dirt in my eye, that's all. Nothing more," he rubbed his eye furiously to illustrate the point. Bomba smiled knowingly and, standing up, embraced him tightly. Tugger sighed heavily and, resigning himself to her affection, wrapped his arms about her shoulders.

"I never thought I'd hear myself say this," Tugger said, resting his chin on her shoulder, "but I kinda miss my little fan club."

* * * * * *

 Mungojerrie trotted down the street with a new bounce in his step, one that hadn't been there for quite some time. Once again, he was noticing the wonderful day that surrounded him. Once again, he listened to the cheerful chirp of the birds above him; the clear, cloudless blue sky; the fine, sunny weather. For the first time in weeks, things were looking up. Life was good again. Mungojerrie began to feel like his same old happy-go-lucky self again. And yet, somehow, his happiness seemed incomplete, as if there was something he'd overlooked. Ah, well, no need to worry about it now. He trotted a little faster in the direction of the Jellicle Junkyard, eager to talk with Rumpel.

But as he rounded the corner he promptly collided with another cat who had been dashing towards him at full speed. The force of the blow knocked both he and the other cat in opposite directions, flat on their backsides. Mungojerrie waited for the stars to clear out of his eyes and his blurred vision to go back to normal, then he looked at the other dazed feline. It was a thin, sickly looking brown cat named Chindit; was one of Macavity's agents, and Mungo's friend. Chindit stood up and brushed himself off with a dirty paw.

"The Boss wants to speak with you right away," drawled Chindit absently, as if he was talking to himself. Mungo's body froze: Macavity! That's what he'd forgotten! He couldn't go back to Rumpel, not now; Macavity had threatened to kill him if he went back. Mungojerrie's shoulders slumped and he let out a heavy, anguished sigh. Silently he followed Chindit, resigning himself to this new life he would be living. It was one without happiness, one without fun, and one without love. It was a life without Rumpelteazer.

 * * * * * *

Demeter napped fitfully, curled up in the Pipe where she had been watching Bomba and Tugger about an hour earlier. Bombalurina and Tugger were nowhere to be found, now, however; they had snuck away together the second Demeter had dozed off, eager to have a moment away from her watchful eye. Bombalurina loved her sister dearly, but once in awhile she just needed to be alone with Tugger. And so, the minute Demeter's eyelids drooped and fluttered closed, she had grabbed her chance.

It was not surprising that Demeter was tired. She had been up all night with Munkustrap, Alonzo, Skimbleshanks, and Jellylorum, trying to follow the trail of the kitten's kidnappers. But it had been a fruitless search. Macavity-- or, at least who they thought was Macavity-- was just too clever for them. Demeter clearly remembered the pained look on Jellylorum and Munkustrap's faces when they had to give up and go home. Those kittens meant the world to them; what would they do with themselves while they were missing?

Suddenly, something warm, soft, and gentle brushed up against Demeter, and she awoke from her light sleep with a start. She blinked quickly and turned to see who had disturbed her: it was Munkustrap. His eyes were round and his ears drooped, and his handsome face lacked that certain something, that charming twinkle, that Demeter usually found there. She smiled gently and nuzzled him, purring her solemn welcome. Munkustrap just sighed and slid up closer to Demeter, and rested his head on her forepaws.

"I know," whispered Demeter. "I know it's hard for you." Munkustrap tipped his face up to hers and his eyes glinted at her, unsmiling.

"They were my responsibility, Dem," he responded firmly. "This is all my fault."

Demeter shook her head in disbelief. "Munkustrap! How could you say a thing like that?"

"This never would have happened if I had been doing my job!" he snapped. Immediately he was sorry he'd yelled at her, but she was too mortified to be hurt.

How could he blame himself for this? she thought. Demeter turned her head and opened her mouth to speak to him, but her eyes fell upon his lightly sleeping form, as he frowned and fought his way through troubled dreams curled up beside her.

 * * * * * *

A pair of glowing gold eyes appeared above the edge of the tire, followed by the face of their owner. Electra blinked once and when she reopened the gilded eyes they had a strange, misted-over look about them. They gazed forward, unmoving, fixated in complete awe and admiration on the lone feline figure that stood in the center of the junkyard. Electra crouched motionless behind the tire, adoration radiating from her kittenish features as she watched the other cat. It was a tom, quiet, small, and black from his head to the tip of his tail. He was working on his magic, making small blue sparks glitter from his white fingertips. Electra sighed and smiled dreamily at the sight of Mistoffelees' strong young muscles, rigid with the strain of controlling his magic. She had idolized the cat-wizard secretly for as long as she could remember. If only he would notice me, she thought.

Suddenly she drew in a sharp breath as he turned around abruptly. She faltered at the sight of his handsome face, but recovered and ducked behind the tire. But it was too late. Mistoffelees must have sensed that he was being watched, for he squinted through the shadows behind the tire to find the spy.

"Electra?" he whispered. Electra tingled at the sound of hs voice saying her name, and she longed to show herself, to throw herself at him, but she just buried herself deeper into the shadows.

"Please, please come out," implored the Conjuring Cat so gently that Electra couldn't resist. She crawled out guiltily, peering up at him shyly from a lowered face. To her surprise, Mistoffelees lifted her chin with a soft paw so that he was looking into her eyes.

"How long have you been watching me, Electra?" queried Mistoffelees softly.

"Uh…only…only a-- little while," whispered Electra, shaking with nervousness.

"Why?" came the tom's response. Electra was at a loss for words.

"I…I…I…" she stuttered. But Mistoffelees soon silenced her when he cupped her face in both paws, and drew her close to him. The deep black eyes enveloped the young queen as Mistoffelees whispered:

"Electra, I love--"

SLAM!

The smile disappeared from Electra's face as she awoke with a start, only to discover she was still in the dark, smelly cell where the rough guards had locked her the night before. She fought back tears at the thought that it was all just a dream, and her eyes sought the source of the noise that had awakened her. The door to her cell was open, letting in a crack of light. The gruff voice of the guard echoed off the stone walls, making it seem even louder and scarrier.

"Git in there!" boomed the guard. "And quit yer snivelin'!"

Electra ducked quickly as a tiny ball of black and white fur flew into the cell over her head and smacked against the back wall. Another identical creature tumbled in after it, landing directly at the paws of a very startled Electra. The barred door slammed shut once more, and the sound of the guard's heavy footfall faded into the distance as Electra adjusted her golden eyes to the darkness.

The black and white kitten in front of her wrinkled its nose in distaste at the dank, moldy odor of the cell. Electra squinted and peered closer, and soon recognized the kitten as Chimera, a young female she had befriended back at the junkyard.

Chimera and her brother Capriccio were the twin son and daughter of the witch cats Coricopat and Tantomile. They had been born last year, shortly after the Jellicle Ball at which Grizabella the Glamor cat had gone to the Heavyside Layer. Chimera and Capriccio were mirror images of each other, absolutely identical in every way. They were also perfect miniatures of their mother and father, so that the only ways to tell the four cats apart were their sizes and genders. The twins had also inherited their mother and father's strange psychic and supernatural abilities, although because they were still kittens their powers were not quite fully developed yet.

"Electra?" whispered Chimera, recognizing her friend.

"Yes, it's me. Are you all right, Chimera?"

The young witch-kitten nodded slowly and opened her mouth to question Electra further, but before she could speak, an anguished moan reminded she and Electra of Capriccio, who had landed against the wall upside down, head over heels.

"Oh, Capriccio!" exclaimed Electra, and she hurried over to him, closely followed by Chimera.

"Are you hurt?" asked Chimera, concerned, as she sat on her haunches near where her brother lay.

"I'll live," returned the young tom. Capriccio rubbed his head and winced in pain when his paws ran over the bruise on his skull between his ears. "Yowch! Ooooo… I'll get that big bully. Just let me at him! I'll show him who's boss!"

Chimera cocked her head sharply to the side and listened for a moment. "Well, now's your chance," she stated. "Someone's coming."

Chapter Three:

"Mmmm…" sighed Tugger, awaking slowly to a beautiful, cloudless day. He lay still curled up with his eyes still unopened, savoring the morning. He concentrated his attention on the gentle sunlight that lay upon his eyelids, and he tingled all over as he felt the warm softness of Bombalurina's slender body pressed closely against his. A morning like this made the sorrow and anger of the night before seem like an unpleasant dream, dismissed and forgotten.

Tugger slipped stealthily out of Bombalurina's grip and crept away from her cautiously, hoping she wouldn't wake up. The queen stirred slightly, murmuring something unidentifiable, and Tugger froze, but she lay still once again and remained quiet. Tugger tiptoed until he was well away from the sleeping queen, and he began to trot purposefully in the general direction of Victoria Grove.

As he rounded the corner, Tugger encountered Mistoffelees, who was playing a lazy game of target practice with one of Macavity's WANTED posters. A hot blue lightning bolt whizzed just under Tugger's nose as the black cat wizard addressed him without even turning around.

"Well, you're certainly looking cheerful today. At least, more so than last night. If I recall correctly you were almost in tears. What's happened to change your mood?"

Tugger didn't bother to ask how he knew about last night; Mistoffelees just knows these things. Tugger shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh, I've just decided to make the best of this situation, that's all."

Zing! A series of sparks flew from the tip of Mistoffelees' tail, singeing a corner of the poster.

"If this has to do with Rumpelteazer, then I don't like it," stated the black magician calmly. "She's got enough on her mind without you chasing her around."

Tugger rolled his eyes and smiled, leaning against some boxes, arms crossed.

"Oh, come on Misto. Now that Mungojerrie's gone she'll need me more than ever."

Mistoffelees turned his head to face the other tom and raised one eyebrow skeptically.

"For comfort," added Tugger, shrugging in an explanatory fashion.

"Well," returned the cat-wizard, turning back to his target practice, "you have my opinion. What you decide is up to you." His statement was punctuated by another Zing! and a flash of blue light.

"Sure," chuckled Tugger. "See ya 'round, Conjuring Cat."

Mistoffelees stared after his friend, who was strutting confidently away.

"Oh, Tugger," he sighed, shaking his head, "what are we going to do with you?"

 * * * * * *

Chindit slunk ahead, a few paces in front of Mugojerrie, staring straight before him and silent. Chindit had always had a strange gait; he looked as though he walked with no ground beneath him.

Mungojerrie focused blankly on the twitching tip of Chindit's tail, and he gnawed on his lower lip, deep in thought.

You love her, his heart scolded, you can't live without her. But his mind contradicted, she's nothing. There will be others. You're part of The Gang now, you're one of them…Forget her… But his mind and his heat both agreed on one point: A decision has to be made, one way or the other.

Suddenly Mungojerrie tasted blood in his mouth and he became conscious of the death grip his teeth held on his bottom lip. He spat out the blood disgustedly and blinked, emotionally drained.

"Good luck," a voice said, addressing Mungojerrie. He recognized the drawling voice of Chindit, and he turned to face his friend. The odd, distant quality in Chindit's eyes jumped out at Mungojerrie, as it always did. The brown, wiry cat had smoky gray eyes that always seemed to stare through you, and never right at you.

Without another word, or even so much as a wink, Chindit crept away with his legs extended and his mangy shoulders hunched.

It was when Mungo turned back around that he realized Chindit had led him straight to what Macavity like to call his "Office."

The Office was really an old abandoned shed in the vacant lot behind the butcher shop. Dilapidated and overgrown, the shed had been used as a slaughter house, back before the butcher had added a complex to the back of his shop for that purpose.

Mungojerrie stood at the door, which was filled with knotholes and splattered with dark burgundy bloodstains. The smell of fresh meat wafting from the butcher shop prompted a grumble from Mungo's stomach, reminding him it was lunchtime.

Some time to think of food, you jolly idiot, he scolded himself. He gathered his wits and, taking a deep breath, stepped through on of the large knotholes, into Macavity's Office.

Mungojerrie blinked and his eyes searched the shed for the Napoleon of Crime. He was nowhere to be found. Mungo was staring hard into the shadows behind a pile of boxes when he felt hot, putrid breath on the back of his neck. He spun around on a dime, eyes wide with surprise, to find himself staring straight into the red and black face of Macavity the Mystery Cat.

Immediately, Mungojerrie dropped to the ground, bowing respectfully, although it was more in fear than reverence. Macavity slunk across the shed and, hopping to the top of the pile of boxes, sat looking like a king on his throne.

"Well," began the Hidden Paw in a growl dripping with false patience, "did you do it?"

"Oh, yessir, certainly, sir, you're 'ighness, sir--"

"SHUT UP!" roared Macavity. There was a heavy silence for all of about ten seconds.

"Yessir," squeaked Mungojerrie, and he immediately wished he hadn't. The glare Macavity gave him could have frozen molten lava.

"ALL of them?" Macavity implored in a dangerously controlled snarl.

"Yessir," Mungo's answer came in a hoarse whisper.

"Good!" nodded Macavity, grinning viciously. Mungojerrie relaxed a little. "Did anyone see you?" the ginger cat wanted to know?

Mungo looked up at his interrogator and, thinking quickly in Rumpel's best interest, said, "No, sir, I gave 'em all the slip, just like you said to, sir."

Macavity nodded. "Good work, housecat. You've done well." Then, noticing the hope on Mungo's face, he continued, "but you've still not quite redeemed yourself."--his eyes widened insanely--"I want you to oversee this kitten project. You will report only to me; you'll have all my agents under your command. I expect nothing less than perfection from you, Mungojerrie, or you can say goodbye to your life, as well as the lives of all your other Jellicle friends, and their kittens. Not to mention your chances of getting a position in this gang. Do you understand? No second chances."

Mungojerrie nodded weakly, using all the strenght he could muster in his shocked and horrified state.

"Excellent," Macavity growled, "now get your worthless, mangy backside down to the marketplace, and bring back today's rations for my men."

Mungo bowed distractedly and exited The Office, feeling more guilty, downhearted, and alone than ever.

 * * * * * *

He wasn't the only one who felt alone. Rumpelteazer sat on the whitewashed balcony of her family's house, watching the street below intently. Her whiskers drooped and her eyes were dull and had a faraway look in them. She had been so sure that Mungo would come home that day. But she had been waiting there for hours, since breakfast, and there had been no sign of him.

She let out a sigh and, feeling sorry for herself, got up and stretched her paws.

"Well, might as well check at the Junkyard," she muttered aloud to herself, "'e may be lookin' for me there."

She turned and trudged down the wrought iron, spiral staircase, passing up about a million chances to wreak instant havoc on her human counterparts. The family, who was having afternoon tea on the patio, watched her go by with surprise and concern.

The cook clicked her tongue as she saw the cat. "I'm beginning to worry about our young Rumpelteazer. You know, she didn't even upset my platter of crumpets; they were plainly within her reach. Tsk, tsk!"

One of the girls smiled and said, "Nonsense, she's the same old Rumpel, see? Come here, girl!"