Alonzo
Aithilin

Rating: PG to T
Summary: How Alonzo came to the Jellicles.
Disclaimer: CATS is not mine.

---

  Across the city and throughout his control, Macavity was starting to hear rumours of the “tom who escaped.” Nothing more than a little buzz on the streets that suggested that his control was slipping in the territory, and former employees did not actually meet some horrendous end at his hands or by his order.

  Thankfully, there was something of a crowd in the markets when he pushed one of the more vocal dissenters off the roof of what most cats considered to be his lair. It really was just his office, but no one needed to know where he actually lived. The mess on the sidewalk was only the end result of a particularly amusing session of interrogation and “play”-- a session that had reminded Macavity of just why he used to love doing his own dirty work.

  “Feeling a bit better, sir?”

  There was a satisfying pop in his shoulders as he stretched; a release of tension he had held in his wiry frame since he first left the punishment of traitors or incompetence to lesser cats. Ignoring the question from his aide Macavity let the smirk that twisted his already imposing features speak for itself. Stupid questions, and all that.

  Next time-- and there will be one if the list of names the tom had given proved correct-- he would spend less energy on spectacle. This had only been an extreme, a way to silence the rumours that he had gone “soft.” He drew his claws along the bloodied wall as he stepped back inside, moving with the single purpose of returning to his office to start his investigation. Ginger fur bristled with the excess of magic he had been unable to unleash if he wanted that tom to be a proper messenger.

  A more unsettling rumour had been cemented in the markets for a longer period, and Macavity wondered just why he had let it go so far without stepping in. The Jellicles had never been a concern to him, and his disinterest had been twisted by idle tongues to some kind of fear, raising the tribe onto a higher pedestal than deserved and proclaiming the junkyard as some kind of safe haven.

  Macavity scoffed and left a long gash in the wall before sending someone to clean up the mess his play time had created.

  “Quite the display, boss,” there was no pause as the cockney accent and familiar scent assaulted him as he entered his office. Rumpelteazer, confident of her importance to Macavity’s work, remained on top of the worn desk, tail curling in slow, languid movements as she spoke. “Who’s gonna clean it up?”

  “You, if you don’t get off my work.” The queen did not move.

  Macavity rather liked the thief. Her attitude and allegedly incestuous relationship could be a great source of amusement at times. “Did you find him?”

  Rumpelteazer nodded, “Alonzo’s run off to the Jellicles. Seems the Tugger brought him in.”

  The tiger-striped queen fell from the desk as she started to look through the collected papers-- pushed from it by Macavity. The tom carefully started to rearrange the papers, “So the Curious Cat appears again in my business.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Where’s your brother?”

  Her attitude changed completely, showing her age with a petulant look and a folding of her arms across her midsection. “Probably fucking some tart.”

  “Instead of you?” Macavity smirked. “How absolutely horrid. Go interrupt. You two are going to get the Tugger here.”

  “What about Alonzo?”

  “He can wait.” Macavity pulled out several sheets from a rolling index-- a pair of deeds for an ongoing venture. “I’ve let my baby brother have enough fun at my expense. Bring the Tugger here within the month.”

  “The pay?”

  “All your limbs attached to your body.”

  Rumpelteazer sniffed, “I want something.”

  Now Macavity looked up, surprised at the straightforward turn to Rumpelteazer’s demands. Under usual circumstances-- which he thought these were-- she simply left with the knowledge that she would be paid when the job was finished. But all he displayed was a raised eyebrow in question.

  “When I find the queen who Mungojerrie is screwing, I want her dead.”

  “By my resources, I assume?”

  The queen nods, “You said you’d give me a favour one day.”

  There was a moment of consideration and the deeds were set aside. Approaching the queen, Macavity looked her over. “You, my dear, seem to be rather vindictive today.”

  “I don’t like sharing.”

  “Fine. This is your favour.” Macavity smile openly, genuinely amused by this whole situation. “Now get out and to your job. I want the Tugger here by the end of the month.”

  Rumpelteazer nodded and started out of the office, well aware of the fact that she had just been given free reign to get the Rum Tum Tugger to Macavity in any way she chose. With the expense of her promised favour, she new that she would have to step carefully-- work harder to earn something similar and keep the ginger tom indebted to her in some way. Should she ever chose to leave Macavity’s empire, a favour to spare her life would be useful, and it was doubtful that her brother would step up to her side for at least two months when he found out what she had done.

  The only alternative to earning a new debt would be to properly endear herself to Macavity. Which, considering the ginger tom’s disregard for lovers and family, was not a sure way to save her skin. But honour bound to a debt, Macavity would be more reliable-- he was a businessman first, megalomaniac second.

  Still thinking on the matters, Rumpelteazer began the long trek to the junkyard, trusting her brother to find her there later.

---

  The whole thing had only taken a few hours. Deuteronomy had looked the patched tom over, nodded, said a few wise words about accepting individuals based on merit of character, then rolled over and went back to sleep. Munkustrap hadn’t been too pleased with the decision, but he accepted it and pointed Alonzo back towards the junkyard.

  When he arrived, he found that most of the cats had left, or burrowed somewhere out of the sunlight, for the day. The Tugger and that strange Coricopat were the only toms he came across in his search for a suitable den.

  “Where’s your sis, Cori?” The Tugger had sprawled out across the overturned truck tire near the intact-if-trashed car. Coricopat himself was sitting just below that, grooming his short fur with easy, precise movements.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you two, you know, have that weird twin, psychic-y connection?”

  Coricopat gave the fluffier tom a wry look, “What on earth gave you that idea?”

  A lazy shrug of the mane and the Tugger grinned. “You two just seem to always be together.”

  “You and Munkustrap are always bickering, does that mean you spend every waking hour together?”

  “No, but that’d be fun.” The Tugger stretched and rolled, winding up on his back and watching the other cat from his new, upside down position. “Piss him off something proper, I’d bet. Hey! Patches, you’re back. Come amuse me.”

  Alonzo rolled his eyes, but joined the other toms, pushing Tugger out of his way as he took a seat on the tire, biting back a purr at the comforting warmth it radiated under the sun. “Do you do anything around here, Rumsy?”

  “Doing it right now, luv.”

  Coricopat sniffed, “He used to watch the kittens, but he wasn’t very good at that.”

  “How do you manage that?”

  The Tugger shrugged, “Kit got crushed under some junk a while back. Old D decided I could’ve done something to help.”

  Alonzo made a face, having never really liked kittens. “Brats should be kept on leashes anyway.”

  Tugger stretched again, soaking up the warmth into his thick fur, and pulling himself up. “Going to tell me why you joined up with us tamed kitties, Patches?”

  “I’d rather let you squirm a bit longer.”

  Coricopat relaxed back, playing with the tip of his tail and regarding the patched tom. “I want to know why you’re here too.”

  “I pissed off Macavity.”

  “Who hasn’t?” Twitching ruffled fur back into place, the Tugger started to groom. “Be more specific.”

  “Used to work for him.” Alonzo turned his attention outward to the clearing, watching the kittens emerge to play after a nap. “Took off in the middle of a job.”

  “Up and left, eh?”

  “Took some things with me. And left some tips with some visiting Siamese that Macavity didn’t like water.”

  Tugger chuckled, “Yeah, that would do it.”

  A frown from Coricopat as he recalled news that had reached as far as the junkyard and probably his own home near the train station. “You started the commotion last week. The drowned cats in the river, the fight over territory.”

  “Fight was coming, anyway,” Alonzo answered, watching a kitten he hadn’t seen before. “I just sped it up a little. The preamble was getting annoying.”

  Tugger chuckled and followed Alonzo’s gaze, seeing the small cat sitting aside from the other kittens. “Mistoffelees.”

  “Kitten?”

  “Not really, just looks like one.” Tugger watched the small tux as well. “Not quite right either. Cute, but a bit nuts.”

  “It was his brother who was crushed.” Coricopat offered, stretching and standing. “He’s a bit of a magician.”

  Tugger smirked, “Easy going. And sweet when he opens up.”

  Alonzo shook his head, “Looks familiar. I think I saw him on the streets.”

  “Impossible,” Coricopat started to leave. “Mistoffelees never leaves the junkyard.”


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