Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bombalurina wasn’t sure what her first mistake had been.

Maybe it had been going out hunting alone, without Demeter or Jemima. She liked hunting alone, though. Being away from other cats for a bit always helped clear her head, and nothing bad had ever come of it before. Maybe her mistake had been going so far from Jellicle territory—even though she knew these streets like the back of her paw, and the bright sunshine that day had exposed every nick and cranny of the street, making her foolishly believe no one would try anything against her. Or maybe the mistake was chasing after that one everlasting-dammed squirrel.

It had looked so tempting when she spotted it sitting out on the sidewalk, sniffing at the surrounding pavement in that oh-so-squirrelly way. As luck would have it, it didn’t seem to notice her. Bomba hoped her stomach wouldn’t give her away by growling as she dropped into a crouch, slinking along the meager cover offered by the shadow of a nearby building. Just when she was about to pounce, though, the squirrel suddenly shifted. Thinking she’d been spotted, Bomba tensed, but to her surprise that didn’t seem to be the case—the squirrel simply seemed to have decided that the nearby alleyway was a marginally better spot to forage in than the sidewalk. Still keeping to the shadows, Bomba stalked carefully forward, waiting until her prey was occupied with sniffing at dropped breadcrumbs to leap forward, outstretched claws aiming at its neck. She didn’t know how she missed, but her paws didn’t even touch the little rodent, which let out a fearful squeak before racing away from her down the alleyway. The only way out of this alley was the way she’d just come through, though, and the squirrel was far too good a meal to pass up, so Bomba gave chase. She quickly closed enough distance to attempt pouncing again, this time with a running start, but somehow managed to miss once more. Once the squirrel reached the end of the alleyway, she thought she’d won for sure, but the instant she got close enough to strike it darted past her.

Turning around, Bombalurina discovered three things. The first was that she couldn’t see the squirrel anywhere. The second was that the alleyway was a lot longer and darker than she’d realized while she’d been chasing it. The third was that she wasn’t alone. 

At first, she thought there was just one cat standing between her and the entrance to the alleyway, but then another slinked out from behind a dumpster, and then another. Two more cats leapt down from open windows, leaving Bomba just as cornered as she’d thought the squirrel had been. A shiver ran down her spine. She knew these cats—or at least, she knew who they worked for.

"What do you want?" Bombalurina demanded, fur sticking out as she drew herself up to her full height. 

The first cat she'd seen didn't feel the need to dignify her words with a response, instead snarling as they leaped at her. Bomba tried to whirl away, but she hadn't expected this to turn into a fight so quickly. She yowled with pain as the other cat's claws raked across her tail. Fortunately for her, the cat hadn't bothered to grab onto her tail when they'd attacked her, barely letting her slip away. Bomba dropped into a defensive stance, desperately scanning the alleyway for any means of escape. There--only one cat stood between her and that window, and he looked scrawny enough that she could probably take him in a fight. Hissing, she launched herself at him. The scrawny cat was stronger than he looked, though, and before she knew what was happening Bombalurina was on the ground with the other cat's claws against her neck. 

"Let's take 'er back to the boss," The cat holding Bomba down said to someone behind her.

No. Panic flared through Bomba's limbs. No longer caring about being hurt, she raked her claws across her attacker's belly, throwing him off of her with a burst of adrenaline. In the blink of an eye, she was up and racing blindly towards where she knew the entrance of the alley to be. For a moment, it seemed that her sudden determination to escape had caught her attackers off guard. No cats stood between Bomba and the sunlit street just a few feet in front of her.

Then she felt a sharp blow to the back of her head, and everything went black.

Groaning, Bombalurina drifted towards consciousness. Everything hurt. Her head throbbed, her tail stung, and the scrawny cat must have gotten in a scratch down her side that she hadn’t noticed during the heat of the fight.

Wait. The fight? Eyes flying open, Bomba jumped to her feet. She was in a small, dank room, with no windows or furniture. It could have been in any of the numerous abandoned buildings littered throughout the city that a certain cat had turned into hideouts or prisons. The only other cat in the room was a bored-looking cream tabby, who Bomba vaguely recognized as one of the cats who had ambushed her earlier. 

"Thought you'd never wake up," The tabby said, rolling her eyes, "Follow me. Boss wants to see you."

Bomba shuddered, the reality of the situation sinking in. She would prefer to go her whole life without seeing him again, but what other choice did she have? If she tried to put up a fight here, his cats would kill her, and her mates and daughters would probably never find out what had happened to her. Bomba would have to take her chances following the cat, then, even if she would likely just end up dead or worse anyway. So, she sighed and followed the tabby out of the room.

They must have been in an old house, judging by the yellowed wallpaper and tattered carpet. The cat led Bombalurina down the hallway and around the corner, stopping at a surprisingly nondescript door. She could hardly bring herself to be surprised when the door creaked open of its own accord, revealing a room too dark for Bomba to make out anything but lumpy silhouettes. The tabby slunk to one side of the door and gestured for Bomba to go in without her.

"Well? Don't keep Macavity waiting."

Though she'd known who she was dealing with from the moment she'd been ambushed, having her fears confirmed still made Bombalurina's fur stand on end. Bomba stepped into the darkness, trying to keep her head up and prevent her tail from twitching nervously. She desperately hoped she looked confidently defiant—as opposed to how she felt, which was absolutely terrified.

Suddenly, fire exploded into her vision. It happened too suddenly for Bomba to stop an undignified shriek of terror from forcing its way out of her mouth. Once her panic abated, she realized sheepishly that the fire was contained to the now-lit fireplace in the back of the room, which she could now see clearly. It looked like it might have been a perfectly respectable study at one time, but that time was long gone. Now the wallpaper was peeling, the wooden floor was covered in scratches, and all of the furniture had been pushed aside. Well, all of the furniture except for one ornate antique chair, which now served as a perfectly intimidating throne for the cat who had wanted her here in the first place.

Macavity gazed down at her with burning amber eyes, clearly enjoying watching her squirm. Bomba remembered she was trying not to look terrified.

“What do you want?” She tried to demand, though the words came out as more of a frightened whimper.

“Ah, Bombalurina. How thoughtful of you to drop by,” Macavity’s smile displayed every one of his sharpened teeth.

Bomba felt her clever retorts die in her throat. 

“Don’t worry. You’re not in any trouble. In fact, the timing of your arrival happens to be rather… convenient.” He slunk to the floor and began to circle Bomba, keeping her locked in his piercing amber gaze. 

What does he mean by “convenient”?  Bomba was beginning to wish that Macavity had just killed her.

“Yes, this will make things much easier. Well, easier for me."

Bomba couldn't even scream as Macavity grabbed her by the chin, twisting her head so she was staring directly into his blazing, amber eyes.

"Not for you."

Macavity's eyes burned brighter and brighter, making the fire behind him look dull by comparison. They were the last thing Bombalurina saw before the world fell back into darkness.

Chapter Text

"Mama! Mama! Wake up!"

Demeter was roused from what had been quite a good night's sleep by an entire kitten colliding with her belly. Upon opening her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of her daughter, who didn't even have the decency to look guilty for disturbing her, hovering about an inch away from her face. 

"Mama, remember what day it is?" Sillabub didn't give her mother a chance to answer before continuing, "It's the Jellicle Ball tonight! And it's going to be super fun, because I've been practicing my dancing with Jemima's friends, and I'm getting really good, and..."

Dragging herself out of bed as Sillabub continued to babble excitedly, Demeter took stock of their den. Despite her hopes for the contrary, the only other cat there was Jemima, who was watching her little sister ramble with a genuine smile. Demeter was struck, not for the first time, by how quickly her kits were growing up. Sometimes it felt like no time had passed since she'd dragged herself into the junkyard, carrying a newborn scrap of black-and-red fur. Now Jemima was taller than her, and it would only be a matter of months until she couldn't call Sillabub a kitten anymore--without her complaining about it, at least. 

"What time is it?" Demeter asked.

"Just after noon. I could barely convince Sil to wait this long before waking you." Jemima's amber eyes flickered with amusement. 

Stretching, Demeter finally hauled herself to her feet. 

“The Ball doesn’t start until sundown.” Seeing Sillabub’s face fall, she added “But I’m sure we won’t be the only ones showing up a little early. We’ll go after we get cleaned up and fed.”

She gently licked the cream fur on Silla’s head, silently grateful her youngest hadn’t inherited her perpetually messy fur like Jemima had. It could have something to do with their different fathers, she thought, before stopping herself. Munkustrap was the only father either of her kittens had known, and she intended to keep it that way.

The three of them split a rabbit before leaving their den and walking the short distance to the center of the junkyard. Unsurprisingly, the only other cat there that early was Munkustrap, sitting vigilantly atop his tire. He smiled when he saw them coming.

“Hi, Munk.” Demeter hopped up next to him, and nuzzled her face against his.

She peeked over his shoulder, making sure Sillabub was occupied batting around a shiny piece of junk before whispering to him:

“Any news about Bomba?”

“No. I’m sorry, but it’s only been a day. It’s still not out of the question that she got lost, or captured by humans.”

“I know that’s not what happened, and so do you.”

“You’re right, Dem. But announcing something like that now would only cause panic, especially when it’s still possible that anything else happened to her. It would be wisest to wait to act until the Ball is over.”

Demeter sighed. Curse Munkustrap for always being so reassuringly calm and logical.

Jemima barely even needed to look at her parents to tell what they were talking about, and she didn’t need to be a psychic like Cori and Tanto to know that they wouldn’t want Sil to know. So she dutifully took up the task of distracting her sister—the fact she still found it entertaining to bat around a shiny bit of plastic was just a bonus. She and Sillabub had made up a whole system for scoring points by the time a flash of calico fur alerted her to other cats arriving at the junkyard.

“Jemi!”

“Cettie!”

Giggling, Etcetera plowed headlong into Jemima. As usual, Electra was following a short distance away. Three kittens raced out from behind her to greet an equally cheerful Sillabub.

“So, how ya been doing?” Etcetera singsonged.

“Things have been pretty interesting since Sil came along,” Jemima said with a smile.

“You’re telling me!” Etcetera said exaggeratedly, gesturing at the three kittens.

Jemima took a moment to match their names to their faces. The ginger and white one was Olivia, the brown and white one was Murad, and by process of elimination the calico had to be Noily Prat.“Have they gotten bigger since I last saw them?”

“Now you know how your parents felt,” said Electra.

“Hey! Play nice!” Etcetera yelled at the kittens, who were now engaged in an exuberant play fight with Sillabub.

After that, cats began arriving more frequently. Alonzo strutted in just a few minutes later, taking his usual place at Munkustrap’s side. It was some time after that that Tumblebrutus and Pouncival showed up, greeting Etcetera and Electra excitedly. Jemima had never been as close to them as the older kits had, but they had all been kittens at the same time, so she was still closer with Tumble and Pounce than a lot of older cats. After a certain point, Jemima could hear Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer sneaking through the junkyard, no doubt setting up some practical joke. When the sky began to turn a pretty shade of pinkish purple, Skimbleshanks and Jennyanydots arrived, forming the unofficial dividing line between cats who were early and cats who were late.

It was then that Jemima began to grow worried. It’s not like her to be late. Almost as soon as she’d thought it, though, Victoria stepped into the clearing, walking side by side with Plato and their two small kittens. “Hey, Victoria!” Jemima said, making sure the deaf cat was looking at her. Victoria responded by trotting to her side, snuggling up against Jemima with a deep, sincere purr that reverberated through her whole chest. When they’d first became friends, Jemima had been the littlest kitten and Victoria, the biggest. Since then, Victoria hadn’t grown the breadth of a whisker, while Jemima had shot up so tall that she had to lean down to touch noses with Victoria. The kittens, Victor and Hyspiria, politely greeted Jemima before racing over to play with the others. Etcetera waved Victoria and Plato over to where she had been sitting with the other cats their age. Watching the kittens play, Jemima got a warm feeling in her chest. She didn’t want to have her own any time soon, but she loved being a big sister.

Cats were arriving more quickly now. Cassandra and Exotica slipped in quietly, while Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer’s grand entrance managed to break one of the doors off the old car and scare all of the kittens. Mistoffelees appearing in the middle of the clearing in a shower of sparkles was, comparatively, a lot less destructive. Tantomile and Coricopat had showed up at some point, and Jemima wasted no time in rushing over to greet them—even as Tumble and Pounce gave her funny looks. Some cats said the psychic twins gave them the creeps, but Jemima found it reassuring to talk to someone who knew her own thoughts as well as she did. Jellylorum and Asparagus Jr escorted old Gus into the  junkyard as the sun was setting. No one said, but everyone knew, that he was going to be the Jellicle Choice this year.

Munkustrap had just started looking around to make sure everyone was there when, right on cue, The Rum Tum Tugger pranced into the clearing, fluffing out his magnificent mane. Most of the cats sitting with Jemima immediately dropped everything to rush to his side… including Jemima. The kittens schooled around Tugger’s legs like fish, while most of the young cats, queens and toms alike, clustered at his sides. Etcetera in particular looked about two seconds away from exploding. Perched on a nearby ledge, Mistoffelees watched Tugger with a look of “disinterest” that Jemima didn’t think any cat in their right mind was buying.

Eventually, the ruckus around Tugger died down. Munkustrap stood up to his full height and looked out over the gathered cats. A hush fell over the crowd. Behind him, the moon rose in the sky, bathing the junkyard in its silvery glow. The Jellicle Ball had begun