Rummy

Author's Note: The same story from ff.net, put here just in case it too gets deleted. Please note; On a dare I was asked to count how many swear words cropped up throught the entirety of this story. The word 'fuck' turns up 117 times, 'shit' gets a whopping 36, 'slut' I beleive is only mentioned 12 or so times and all in reference to one character. Other words, I dont consider swearing.

Warning: Rated R for bad language, adult themes, and reference to sex.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, nor do I claim to own anything to do with the musical of 'cats'.

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When the sun shines over the junkyard fence just so, the light glints on all manner of strange discarded objects. And if you look up at the sky at just the right angle, you'll see colours blending into the sunrise. Green, blue and pink all mixed in with the natural yellows and red. It's funny how you never really appreciate anything until you realise that you're the only one who sees it. Bomba... are you listening to me, baby? Can you see the colours? Bomba...?

***

"I'm a romantic."
"What?" The silver tabby cracked open one eye to look at me, expression clearly stated that he thought I was either mad, or high on some semi-illegal substance.
"That's something nobody knows about me," I repeated, rather matter of fact, "I'm a romantic."
Munkustrap shook his head. (You disturbed me from my nap for this, you bastard? He has that expression, I can just tell what he's thinking.) "You're full of shit sometimes, Tugger."
"I'm serious," I replied, and proped myself up on my elbows to look at him from where I lay on my stomach on a ratty blanket we'd once dragged up onto the old rusted ford for watch-night. Since it was never used again I'd reclaimed it, and moved it here; To the spot Munkustrap and I went when we felt like a truce. In other words, a hideaway for when he was tired of being responsible, and for when I was... bored. Or contemplative. Both were dangerous moods for me to be in. "Out of the entire junkyard there's only three jellicles that talk to me for any other reason than to get a peice of my tail... if you know what I mean---"
"And I do. Heaviside, don't remind me," Munkustrap whines. Everlasting Cat he's a pain in the arse sometimes. "I don't want to be thinking of your tail just now, Ok?"
"---But it just pisses me off that even you think all I want is a hot peice of ass, or a pair of squeezable tits---"
"Rumpus! Tugger, shut the fuck up."
"--- I like the fuckin' sunrise for Everlasting Cat's sake. Is it too much to think I might want to settle down someday?"
Munkustrap takes a moment to pause and look at me like I've suddenly sprouted another pair of ears. Then he sits up and rests his forearms on his knees. One eyebrow twitches up while the other twitches down. "Are you high?"
"What?" I shifted to lie on my side, my mane brushing the line of my jaw.
"You sound like you're trying to propose to me," the silver tabby states, then freezes, "uh... you're not, are you?"
"Munkus..."
"Because you know I like you, but I kinda didn't mean it like that."
"Munkus..."
"And then there's Demeter, and the fact that for Rumpus's sakes I'm -straight-."
"Munkustrap."
"So you better not be proposing or else I'll kick your sissy hide from here to the Vicarage."
"Yo, Munkustrap-on."
Munkustrap blinked, and I thanked the Everlasting Cat that he finally shut up enough for me to speak.
"I'm not proposing, you dolt. I'm offloading all my worldly woes and all that shit. You know, like friends do? Unless I misread something and you actually want me to propose, because you know I'm open to trying anything at least once.... baby." I blew him a short kiss and let my expression fall into a sultry pout.
"Shit. You are high," he flopped back down to the ground to stare up at the darkening sky, "fine, go on and offload. I'm all ears so long as you don't start talking dirty."
"It's alright, babe, I know you're not ready for that much commitment." My comment was rewarded with a nasty look, and I grinned before settling back into my original position. "I want people to know me for who I am, not for what they think I am. The hips, the mane, the curl... that's the packaging. What I want to know is how come nobody---especially not the queens--- seem to care what's on the inside... Since when did a quick bump'n'grind become their prerogative, and... not mine?"
"You want my advice, Tugger?" There was a short pause before his somewhat caustic reply, "just be glad you get any at all."
"You have what I want," I pointed out, voice bland as my paws slid down to undo my belt--- the article starting to really annoy me while I lay in this position.
"You want a frigid, clingy, paranoid tease?"
I grinned, "you're such a fuckin' hypocrite. I bet you only act like a nice guy around other jellicles--- inside you're probably a misogynist who just needs a decent fuck."
Munkustrap smirked, the joke struck him as funny. "Yeah? You think so?"
"You should take Bombalurina, she's been hanging around you more than me lately." I propped myself up again to gague his reaction, unsurprised to see that the smirk faded immediately.
"Bomba's a slut," his reply was almost accusatory, which made me wonder whether she'd snubbed him in the past. It suddenly occured to me that Munkustrap was about as honourable as any other tom in the junkyard... the type who'd bed a queen and then talk about her behind her back. I'm not ashamed to say we all do it, just that it happens.
"So bang her and leave her," my reply was automatic, and I winced before correcting myself, "look, you've got a queen who loves you. Sure, she has her flaws, but that's something to cherish. You can hug her, you can kiss her, you can talk about stupid things like kittens and new collars and she wont laugh at you... I want that. I wish someone would care about me that much."
"You're talking shit."
"And you need to get laid. Rumpus, I'll stop talking then. But you better remember what I said."
"Yeah, yeah, you're a romantic. Whatever."

***

"Mmm... yes, touch me here."
She giggles, then a purr in my ear, and tentative paws on my body, "here?"
"There! There... Baby, can I?" A gasp. "Baby, please?"
I nibble lightly along her jaw, breath shallow and warm. She shivvers. "Rumpus, Tugger..." My paws fumble a moment, then cup and knead her flesh.
"Baby, baby, I need to..." She's a lot smaller than I am. "Please..."
"No, no..." A whimper as I fill her up. "Stop..."
"Shh, shh..." My mouth on hers. "It's Ok, baby."
"No---oh!" The sound turns into a moan, and a hiss as I touch her again. "Tugger... I want..."
"Yesss..." Oh Rumpus!
"Tugger, I want... say my..."
Rumpus... so... tight. "What is it, baby?"
"Say my name... Tugger, please. Say my name."
"Mmmn... Jemi..."
"Yes!... Again. Ahh, Rumpus... more!"
"Jemi... Jemima..." No, too much. Can't... I'm going to... "Jemima..."
"Tugger!" White on her thighs, and she's shivvering as I hold her. "Mm. That was..."
"Look, baby, the stars..." My paw strokes her back, my other arm looped around her waist, a lazy smile on my face.
"You were..."
"You look so pretty in the moonlight." I freeze. Her paw works me softly.
"Can we do that again?"

***

She was gone in the morning. Shit. I'd just corrupted a kitten. I thought... Heaviside, I thought she'd want to stay... The sun was already up by the time I ventured out of my temporary den. My mane was mussed, and I didn't bother combing it back into place before trudging my way through the junkyard to the water barrel. There was a furry taste on my tongue that I needed to get rid of. And maybe I could accidentally drown myself while I was at it.

The water barrel appeared to be deserted, so I had no trouble climbing the ladder and shoving my entire head into the water. I took a large gulp of water, and threw my head back to gargle. Water droplets flew from my fur, and my trademark curl flopped down into my eyes. After a few moments I spat onto the ground, and shoved the wet curls of my head-fur from my eyes with a paw. I caught sight of myself reflected in a shiny patch on the side of the barrel.
"Hn... Everlasting Cat you look like shit," I told myself, then took the liberty of replying, "yeah, well tough breaks. I feel like shit too, thanks."
Having had enough of speaking to myself--- and Everlasting Cat was I a shitty conversationalist; Yeah, I mean you, bucko--- I climbed back down the ladder and made my way back towards the center of the junkyard, seeking out more pleasant company... if there indeed was such a thing.
"Hey, Tugger, what happened to you? You look like shit."
A small growl escaped my lips before I could stop it, and I turned to face Bombalurina, her paw on her hip, a superior smile on her face. I smirked back, "well it wasn't you, for once."
The smile dropped from her face momentarily. Bombalurina tossed her head, her body falling into a pose that accentuated her assets almost obscenely. I can't talk bad about that, though... I do it all the time. She took my slight hesitation to leave as her chance to sashay over, the smile now replaced by a new expression. "What went wrong between us, Tugger?" She reached up a paw to trail down my arm lightly in a caress that anyone else might find sensual. "Why can't we put all that aside and be friends?"
"Friends?" I repeated, and one of my eyebrows unconsciously rose, "uh... what planet are you standing on, Bombie? Because it better not be mine."
Bombalurina huffed, and she crossed her arms under her breasts. It enhanced her cleavage considerably, and I'm sad to say that I found myself looking. "When everything else is gone, who do you think will be left, Tugger?" she asked, her voice like acid honey, "do you really think Dueteronomy expects you to grow up? That anybody expects you to grow up? You're the tribe joke! Nobody's ever going to respect you, and nobody's really going to like you."
"Gee, baby, that really touched me," the sarcasm in my retort was almost a living entity in itself, "lets fuck and make up."
"I'm the only one who'll be there!" Her voice carried after me as I stormed off. "You wont care if I love you or not then!"
"If you cared you wouldn't have left me!" I called back, eyes blazing, "you say I'll want you, Bomba--- why wouldn't I rather be alone?"

***

The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat... Sometimes I figure that part of the song is wrong. Just a little... off. Unless you mean curious as in strange, at which point, go ahead, call me curious. I think I have mental problems. Once, when we were younger, Mistofelees got it in his head to sing that line to me over and over until I finally cracked and told him to go shove his nose in a blender. When he continued to sing anyway, I tackled him. Jennyanydots says I nearly broke his arm. We got closer after that, and he confessed that he thought he was going mad. Can somebody go mad from feeling alone? Munkus, do you think that's totally fucked in the head?

-I think you should shut up. Then you might stop sounding like such a fuck-up. Rumpus, man.-

Uh... Thanks.

***

"What are you here for?"
I didn't look up, but let a lazy smile flit across my face as I stared into the half-empty glass containing my drink, "that's a loaded question."
"No, I mean, why are you here? Specificly, at this bar." It's a well known fact that there are such things as catnip bars.
"To get drunk."
Places like those that are mentioned in Girzabella's song. The Rising Sun. I chose that one because it reminded me of my favourite time of day. Damn senitmentality.
"No shit."
That and the other patrons generally leave you alone.
"Look, sorry, I'm in a shitty mood so it's no use talking to me."
"Too late, my maned friend, I already sat down and I like company."
I looked up, ready to give whoever it was that had the audacity to sit down next to me while I was trying to get blind drunk a peice of my mind, only to come face to face with the second-largest tom I'd ever seen. Typically I said the first thing that came to mind, "Rumpus! Holy fuck, I feel short."
The tom laughed, "yeah, I'm a big muthafucker. Helps to be in my profession." He jerked his thumb in the direction of a missing eye. He also had a few large chunks taken out of his ears, and his fur was tangled, but in a way that seemed more out of lifestyle than lack of grooming.
"Which is?"
"I thought you were pissed off?" He grinned.
"I'm also curious. So shoot me." I shrugged, "maybe I need a distraction."
"Hey, look," the tom held up his paws, "I don't swing that way."
I laughed. It was too priceless. But then again, I suppose I did look like a pretty-boy. All mane and shining fur, curled forelock just over one eye. Rather than correct him immediately I just shook my head, "you're not my type. I like 'em with boobs."
"Just checking. So, why are you here?"
"You really want to know?"
"No. But I'll listen anyway."
I gulped the rest of my drink and motioned for the bartend to fill another one. "I'm here for the same reason every other pathetic sap is here for. The problem every real pussy faces one time or another."
"Queen troubles."
"That too."
The large tom laughed, and reached out a paw that I took with my own and shook. "What's your name, kit?"
"The Rum Tum Tugger... and I'm probably older than you are."
"My name is Growltiger. Captain of the Flying Cutlass... you may have heard of my father."
I raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
Growltiger smiled, "I like you. You've got a sense of humour--- that's a rare thing around here. Look, I'm going out on a limb, and I don't normally do that. If you ever need to talk or anything just come here and ask someone, they all know who I am." Growltiger stood, and it was only after he left that I realised he hadn't even ordered a drink, "I'd like to see you around."
"Hey, yo, you know I don't swing that way," I threw the commonly used line back at him.
He laughed, "hopefully next time you won't be so pissed, 'ey?"

***

There are some places in the junkyard that border on beautiful. Places that if you close your eyes for a few moments and just feel the sun on your face before you open them again, it feels like you've stepped into a different world. There's this one place, by the south fence, where a whole heap of broken glass of different colours has somehow piled up on an old screen door propped against some scrap metal. When you sit underneath the door just past noon, when the sun is almost directly overhead, you open your eyes and feel like you've stepped into a glass mosaic of colours and light. One day, I'm going to bring somebody to that place.

***

Jemima came to my den just after dark. I was already curled up on my blankets when I felt her small paw touch my shoulder, and her gentle voice asking me to wake up. "Mff, what is it, Jemi?"
"Tugger... can I..." She paused, and sat down beside me, biting her lip, "can I stay with you tonight?"
"Jemima," my tone of voice surprised even me with it's maturity, and I was reminded of Munkustrap in his guise of the responsible one, "you shouldn't ask me things like that."
"It's not as if I haven't done it before," she replied, then blushed and looked down, "you made sure of that last time."
"Last time shouldn't have happened." I sat up to look at her, and even then I seemed to tower over her petite black and white form. She looked so disappointed that my heart melted, but it also reminded me of how young she was--- I don't know how I forgot about that last time. I reached out and took one of her paws in my own, "Jemi, go home. Stay up late and have girly talks with Etcetera and Electra, don't set yourself up for getting hurt."
"I won't get hurt," Jemima protested, tail curling and uncurling by her side, "I know what I want and I know what I'm asking."
"What about what I want?"
She looked up, surprised, "you don't want me?" Jemimi paused, "I mean, my body. You don't want to have sex with me?"
I shook my head, a small sarcastic smile on my face, "my libido seems to have taken a nosedive lately. And you're too young to be having sex, anyway. Certainly too young to be fucking, and that's the closest thing you'd get with me."
"I'm too weeks off officially becoming an adult."
"And I'm nearly twice your age."
She was silent for a while, which gave me the time to contemplate letting her stay---but only stay. It might be nice to wake up and for once still have a warm, female body in my arms. Then she spoke. "Victoria doesn't beleive me that I slept with you."
"Good!"
"Why?" she demanded.
I laughed bitterly, "Rumpus, Jemi--- think for a moment. You tell a queen you slept with me and she beleives you, next thing you know it's all over the junkyard and all the toms are asking you for rides of their own. You're a sweet girl, I don't want to ruin your reputation... plus, if the toms find out no doubt your daddy would skin me alive. And fucked if I want that to happen."
"So what was I then?" Jemima asked haughtily, as though she already knew the answer. Looking back I know I was doing exactly what she wanted and playing right into her paws. Everlasting Cat it seems like every single queen I get with is just using me.
I answered bluntly, and dishonestly, hoping to put her off so she'd either just leave me alone or shut up, "I was horny, you were there. You were casual sex, Ok?" (I wanted to get to know you, but I moved too fast... and then you left before morning.)
"Then you shouldn't care if we do it again. Tugger, I want this!"
I bit my lip as she started to run her paws through my mane and over my chest. She licked her lips and I closed my eyes. It was a turn on---I never should have told her about that. Finally I nodded and bent to capture her lips, "alright... but promise you'll stay after."
"I promise."
My paws yanked her close to me and our bodies pressed together, "I wont pretend, Jemima."
"Just do me."

***

"Morning." Oh... what? You're not there. "Shit." So much for promises. Great, that's the second time I fucked somebody still technically a kitten and woke up alone. My mane is tangled, and I can still smell her on the pillows. Did she mean to just up and leave again? She probably left as soon as my eyes were closed... just slipped out from under my arm and left. I wonder if she knows how it feels when I wake up, thinking I could maybe get used to having her around, and she's gone. Rumpus! Damnit! Sometimes I wish I'd meet a queen like Demeter.

***

I stared at the vicarage wall blankly, not relishing the conversation I was about to have. Old Dueteronomy was my father, or at least I grew up with him as my father, and he's also the one person I can see myself respecting just a little. After a few moments of psyching myself up I jumped easily onto the top of the wall and looked both ways for the old gray cat. I saw him a short way down to my left, and walked over as causlly as I could.
"Rum Tum Tugger," he greeted me before I even sat down, "it's not often -you'll- pay -me- a visit."
I grinned lightly and ran a paw through my head-fur, "yeah, well, extenuating circumstances and all that."
"Care to tell me about it?"
"Yeah, that's why I'm here." I took a deep breath and stared out across the garden rather than look at the old tom I had sat down next to, "I've done a lot of regrettable things. And a lot of regrettable queens too. I hold no illusions of being well liked by everyone. But lately I've been beginning to realise something... and it's the center of my troubles. I don't like myself either. I... don't like who I am, I don't like what I do or how I act, and I'm not even sure I like my looks anymore."
Dueteronomy smiled. I couldn't see him smile, but I knew he did--- it was an affectation (if that was the right word) of his to do so at times like this. "Sometimes we all feel like this, but I don't beleive that's all you came to talk about. Is something causing you trouble?"
"Trouble?" I snorted, "dad, trouble is my middle name. I don't know where I'm going anymore. I think I need to get away for a while and have some time to myself."
"It will pass on it's own. Has somebody been causing you greif?"
I shook my head, "it's not the other jellicles, it's me. I know it's me. That's what I---"
Dueteronomy shifted, "if it's your popularity with the queens that's worrying you, you know I always said it would fade as they got older and the other toms matured. It's only natural that you'd feel misplaced."
I sighed in frustration, "that's not what I mean."
"You'll find your own place in the tribe in time. Give it time."
"I don't think that will do any good," I replied blandly.
"Don't underestimate small wisdoms. Time heals all wounds."
"Time wounds all heals!" I snapped, then turned around, searching in my father's eyes for some sign of recognition, for some small glimmer that would show he knew what I was talking about. It would be an understatement to say that I was disappointed when I saw nothing except a soft sympathy that said he still beleived I was a child. It hurt to think that Bombalurina might be right. "Listen, I'm going to go, Ok? I'll see you around."
"Alright, Tugger. Come back and visit again, it was nice not to have to move for once," Dueteronomy chuckled and waved goodbye to me. I hopped down from the wall, shoulders slumping just a bit as I started to walk off. A short distance down the road I turned and looked back at him, sitting on the vicarage wall, a cheerful smile on his face. I looked down at the road.
"I'm ill-at-ease. Yes, I know what that means. No, dad, I have not been dumped. No--- I'm not just pissed off because of something somebody said. Dad, listen... I'm trying to tell you... I'm leaving."
I guess he didn't care to know.

***

The Rising Sun was quiet, though seeing as it was midday that wasn't unusual. I walked in a direct line from the entrance to the bar, ignoring the various table and chairs. Immediately I was greeted by a strange, willowy siamese; The bartend during the day shift. "Hey, listen, where can I find Growltiger?"
"Growltiger?" The siamese repeated, "very tall tom? Missing one eye, and one ear?"
"That's him," I nodded.
"You'll find him down at the docks, find the Flying Cutlass and you find him."
I nodded my thanks and left the bar with the same direct manner as before, my destination having changed direction. The walk to the docks was relatively short, and it was easy to find the ship named the Flying Cutlass. Only three ships were docked at the time, and two were small fishing trawlers. The third was a large, double masted brigatine, most of her sails unfurled as though ready to make way.
I swaggered up the gangplank as though I owned the place, and saw the tom I was looking for... or more accurately I saw his back. "Growltiger!"
The tom turned and broke into a smile, the rest of the small, somewhat ragamuffin, crew ignored my appearance. "Rum Tum Tugger," he said, "I've been expecting you."
"Yeah?" I hooked my thumbs in my belt, "you were expecting me today at this exact time?"
"No, but it doesn't sound as good if I say 'Heaviside, you surprised me', ey?"
I jerked my head in the direction of the crew, most of whom appeared to be readying the ship for sail, "you leaving?"
"Aye," Growltiger nodded, "places to go, people to see and all that rot." He gave me a weathering look, one that I returned with a smooching air-kiss. "Are you leaving as well?"
"I might be."
There was a slight lurch as the anchor was lifted and the Flying Cutlass' sails began to pick up the slight breeze. Growltiger smiled and held out a paw, "you won't be missing anyone?"
"Nobody will be missing me," I replied, and shook his paw with my own.
"Welcome aboard the Cutlass, Tugger. We're always glad to have another hand."
"Glad to be of use."

***

The sight of the waves floating bouyantly across the horizon isn't like home. The sun can cast many different colours across the canvas of the sea, but none of them so vibrant as back at the junkyard. The best veiw is from the crow's nest, a haphazardly built platform on the topmast. I spend a lot of my time up there when not drinking or running the ratlines. A lot of the crew say I'm nothing but a hopeless romantic, but they always shut up after I beat them at knives. I wonder if they'll accept me back at the junkyard... when we return.
I don't think I ever really appreciated it enough.
And I wonder whether Munkustrap ever got any. Heh. Unlikely.