Tugger's ears twitched, the sound of gently falling rain on the bottom of the truckbed gently rousing him to wakefullness. His eyelids flickered open and he lay back for a moment, allowing them to adjust to the dull light that filtered into the makeshift den from outside. He felt an odd weight on his body, and looking down, saw Quaxo laying there, tail wrapped around one leg, and sleeping with a peaceful look on his face.

Sometime during the night, Quaxo's coat had changed again. It was still a slick black and brilliant white, but the pattern was back to what it had been the day before. All except for the face. Tugger let a finger gently trace the black stripes that had appeared on Quaxo's face, making it into a living canvas of sorts. His finger traced down Quaxo's forehead, down the bridge of his nose and finally traced around the delicate curve of his lips.

With a soft smile on his face, Tugger thought back to the night before. It had been unlike anything he had ever experianced with a queen. Sure there hadn't been any real lovemaking going on, but just having Quaxo's body so close, to taste the smaller tom's lips... The flavor was still vivid to Tugger. Quaxo had been shy, like any cat would be their first time so close to someone in that sort of situation. It was sort of cute.

Under Tugger's finger, Quaxo's face gave an involuntary twich, and a lazy paw sleeply batted at Tugger's own. The older tom simply smiled and removed the offending hand, letting it instead run the legnth of Quaxo's back. The small paw stopped in mid-bat and Quaxo's face relaxed into smile as he purred in his sleep. His body gently shifted into Tugger's hand, ejoying the feeling of it. Tugger couldn't help but smile. It was sort of like watching a kitten sleep. And, although he felt like he could be happy simply laying there forever, he knew that they would have to go back to the Junkyard eventually. Propping himself up on his elbows, Tugger planted a gentle kiss on Quaxo's forehead. "Hey, time to wake up." He whispered softly. Tugger watched as Quaxo's eyes slowly opened, and then fluttered a few times to get the sleep shaken from them. Looking up, he saw Tugger looking back down at him.

"Tugger?" He whispered, his mind racing to recall the night before. After a few moments, a small, shy smile crossed his face as he looked up at the other tom. "Hmmmm, what time is it?" He asked quietly, letting his chin rest on Tugger's chest and looking up at him with bright blue eyes. Tugger let out a sigh.

"Time to get back to the Junkyard." He said with a reluctant look on his face. "The others are going to start wondering what happened to us if we don't show up soon."

Quaxo's face suddenly clouded. "I... I don't know Tugger..." The small tom suddenly looked away and rolled off Tugger to sit beside him. "How am I supposed to explain everything?"

Tugger sighed and pulled Quaxo back towards him. "Well, we could start by saying you finally started taking an active interest in cleaning your coat." He purred softly into Quaxo's ear. "That could partially explain the sudden change in your coat. If you hadn't noticed, your patterns are back to normal at least."

Quaxo looked down and his eyes widened at the realization that Tugger was right. His coat was back to normal in the sense that the pattern was back to the familiar tuxedo pattern with some additional white spots. He let his head fall back against Tugger's ruff. "I... I guess. But Tugger, I don't understand this at all..." He choked. "This is crazy." But at the same time, for the first time, his fear and terror was slowly being replaced by a strange sort of facination with the changes that were happening to him. There was no longer any pain, and having his coat back to it's normal patterns had calmed him somewhat. Even the message of the strange voice from the void was starting to pick at his curiosity. That, coupled with these new emotions he had found with Tugger, life was starting to look very different for the young tom. Quaxo looked up at Tugger, gently brushing away a few locks of fur from Tugger's ruff. "Tugger... Do you think that Old Deuteronomy really might be able to help me?"

Tugger shrugged. "If any cat can, it's him." Then, gracefully, Tugger got up onto his feet, gently pulling Quaxo up with him. "But we won't know until we ask, now will we?" He said with a smile. Smoothly, he grabbed his collar from where he had tossed it the night before and put it back on. Then he spent a few minutes straightening out his mane and ruff out so that it suited him. Quaxo smiled slightly and shook his head.

"You're right, I guess."

"'Course I'm right. I'm the Rum Tum Tugger." Said with his usual bravado.

"And a terrible bore." Quaxo slipped in. Tugger looked down in shock at the words, but grinned again when he saw the impish smile on Quaxo's face. It was an expression that he'd never seen on the younger tom's face before, but it fit it perfectly. A knowing smile that hid something deeper.

The two exited their shelter, the rain had given way to sunny skies. The rays of light filtered through a few remaining clouds and played on Quaxo's fur, shining blue in some spots. As they walked back to the main area of the Junkyard, Tugger pondered Quaxo some more. Now that he could see Quaxo in full light, he didn't know if his first suggestion was going to satisfy the other cats. The kittens, maybe. Well, maybe not Jemima and Victoria. Those two sometimes seemed to know an awful lot about what actually was going on. Munkustrap and Jennyanydots would be hard to pass anything over, and he could forget about the twins right off. Tugger's only hope about getting Quaxo to Old Deuteronomy without incident was to avoid most of the tribe. That was going to be tough. He had a hard enough time trying to avoid queens and kittens when he wanted some time to himself. What were the odds that he would be able to avoid them when he had something really important to keep private?

Suddenly, Tugger started as he felt something on his shoulder. Looking over, he saw Quaxo looking up at him with a slightly concerned look on his face. "Tugger, is something wrong?" He asked quietly.

"I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"About how I'm going to get you to Old Deuteronomy without running into every single member of the tribe." Tugger frowned. "You know how it is: Anytime you don't want to run into someone is the time that they decide to show up."

Quaxo was silent for a moment and nodded. "I understand. What do you think I should do?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Tugger said. "I've gotta find some way to keep them away from you until Old Deuteronomy can figure out what happened."

Quaxo thought for a moment, then looked up at Tugger. "What if you just do what you normally do?"

"What?" Tugger asked. "What do you mean by that?" Quaxo grined.

"Go out and be the center of attention." he explained. "You make one grand entrance into the Junkyard, I guarantee you'll have the attention of every queen and kitten there. Probably most of the other adults too. That gives me a chance to find Old Deuteronomy."Tugger was quiet for a few minutes thinking over the idea. It would probably work; he did have a way of grabbing attention when he wanted it. But after last night, he wasn't sure if he could pull it off with the usual gusto. Noticing Tugger's silence, Quaxo looked up at the older tom. "Or, I could roll around in a mud hole. I'd look just like I did before."

Tugger sighed. "Don't think that'd work."

"Why not?

"Well, for one, first time one of the kittens decides to douse you with water, or it rains, your cover's blown." Tugger explained. "Second of all, there's your face."

Quaxo looked confused. "What about my face?"

Surprised, Tugger gently pulled Quaxo to an old mirror. "You didn't look like that before." he pointed out, letting a finger trace the lines that now marked Quaxo's face. "You seem to have aquired a few new markings."

Fingers trembling a little, Quaxo let his own hand touch the markings. "Heaviside..." Then he let his hand drop. "Tugger, I don't think I can face Old Deuteronomy today." He stuttered. "I... I just don't think I can."

Tugger was quiet. Quaxo was still jittery over everything that had happened. He supposed he couldn't blame him, Tugger knew he would be scared too. Wrapping his arms around Quaxo, Tugger pulled the small tom close to his body. "Then don't. I'll do what I can to keep the others away until you figure out what you want to do." Tugger purred softly and ran his fingers gently through the fur on Quaxo's head. He felt the black tom sigh, and let out a soft purr.

"Thank you, Tugger." he whispered. Then he looked up. "But I guess we should figure out what we're going to do."

"TUGGER!" Etcetera squealed as she spotted the two toms walking into the Junkyard. Behind her, three other furry heads, Jemima, Electra and Victoria, all popped up from their nap. Tugger wore a typically broad grin on his face as he sauntered into the main clearing of the Junkyard, Quaxo a few steps behind him, looking grungey and dour. "Where'd you go?!" Etcetera asked, sliding up to her hero. "We couldn't find you this morning."

Tugger tossed his head back at Quaxo, who was slinking off to find his pipe. "Had to go rescue Quax." he said casually. "Got himself lost last night."

"No thanks to you." Quaxo muttered, shaking his head a little to get rid of the mud that was threatening to drip into his face. The kittens made faces.

"Why's Quaxo all messy?" Jemima asked. "He looks like he jumped into a mud puddle."

Tugger shrugged. "Lost his balance when we were walking back." he said casually, hoping the observant kitten wouldn't see through the lie. She nodded, and turned her attention back to Tugger. Taking his opportunity, Quaxo made a break for his pipe. It wasn't too far from here, and it was far enough away from the rest of the tribe that, if he made it, there would be very little chance that he would have to face anyone.

Finally reaching his den, Quaxo was careful not to tread on his blankets. The mud covering his coat was still wet. He hated having to disguise himself like this, but until he was ready to face the others, it was the only option. Quaxo let himself lay down on the oldest of his blankets. He wouldn't worry about this one. There were holes in it, and he would have been getting rid of it in a short time anyway. Soon, his eyelids felt heavy, and he was unable to keep them open. Funny. Quaxo thought. I got a full night's sleep. Why am I so tired? Blackness was welling up in front of him, and soon he lay there, unconcious.

::Why do you hide? You will have to face them eventually.::

Quaxo's eyes flew open to find himself in the star-filled void that he had visited the night before. He looked down to see that his coat had changed back to the pure black and white that it had been transformed to by the blue glow. Where are you!? he demanded. This time, he was more angry than frightened.

::Why do you hide?:: The voice asked again.

Because I'm a freak! Quaxo shouted. What am I supposed to tell them?!

The voice was silent for a few moments. ::There is one in every generation. A Jellicle who has powers beyond those of the others. You are such a Jellicle, but you must accept it. Unless you accept it, you will not become what it is you must become.::

Quaxo's hands clenched. How can I accept anything when I don't know what I'm dealing with?!

Silence.

Answer me! Quaxo yelled into the darkness. What am I supposed to become? Please tell me! I can't accept anything unless you tell me!

For a moment it seemed as if the mysterious voice had vanished completely. Quaxo looked around, seeing the darkness, the stars, but nothing else. Then, there was one last word, almost too soft to be heard.

::Mistoffelees...::