Pretty Little Thief

by Zenithina

Summary:

Rumpleteazer is up to her tricks again. But she likes to pick on one cat in particular...

Notes:

Originally entitled: The Lovable Miscreant.

Chapter 1: Fancy A Dip?

Rumpleteazer didn't care for anything apart from causing mischief and getting into trouble, and the more trouble she could cause, the happier she was. But she had a secret. One she had kept to herself for as long as she could remember. It was rarely off her mind, even when busy stealing pies from unsuspecting homeowners' pantries, or rifling through someone's jewellery box. The time it really bothered her was when she was lying in bed.

She would lay there and think of him.

Her paws would wander over her belly and then lower, as she imagined his would. Touching her. Adoring her... Oh! It felt good there! "Uh...!" She arched back, moaning, whispering his name —

"'Teaze!" Mungojerry complained. "I know you like havin' your wet dreams about You Know 'oo, but some of us are tryina sleep ere!"

"Shu' up, Jerry!" Cursing her idiot brother, Rumpleteazer tried to get back in the zone, but the magic was lost. Damn Jerry for sharing her bed! He would never understand. He was completely immune to such distractions as sex and intimacy. Being a torbie male, he was completely infertile.

---

 

One of the things Rumpleteazer really loved to do was play pranks on people. Whether it was frightening the life out of the other cats by pretending to be Macavity, dressing up as a ghost using Jellylorum's freshly laundered sheets, putting whoopie cushions under Jennyanydot's chair, or stealing people's belongings and putting them in hard to reach places like the main road, both Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer had readily earned their titles as the Junkyard Jesters. Rumpleteazer especially enjoyed winding up one person in particular. In fact, the angrier she could make him, so much the better. 

It was on one such occasion that she came across him, cleaning up after one of her and Jerry's latest heists. They had stolen Bustopher Jones' serving spoon and dress shirt and hidden them at the bottom of Regent's Canal. And the unfortunate individual who had the task of fishing them out was none other than the tribe's protector and caretaker, Munkustrap.

What made the job particularly unpleasant was the fact that the water itself wasn't exactly clean. In fact, it was slick with filth, filled with rubbish and engine oil, and it was dangerous too! With canal boats chugging by and moored to the bank, swimming in the wrong place could prove fatal.

Rumpleteazer rarely had the opportunity to view Munkustrap up close. Most of the time, it was from afar, fleetingly as he went about his business, never giving her so much as a second glance, let alone the kind of attention he gave to other queens. On the rare occasion when she did manage to get close to him, he gave her the impression of always wanting to keep her at arm's length. One possible reason for this was that he didn't fully trust her, owing to the fact that she had tried to kill him once. She couldn't believe he was still hung up about that. After all, she had only been acting on orders.

From where she was, she could tell he was tall; Adonis-like, exuding status and power. His silver tabby fur matched the surrounding concrete, his stripes as black as endless caverns. His tail was full and waving, barred with black and longer than the length of his body; longer than any other Jellicles' she knew. 

She watched him scan the water from his vantage point on the bridge, thinking how the stripes on his forehead and cheeks complimented his fine bone structure. It was early in the day and already his face was set with a less than pleased expression, his tufted ears facing forwards as he searched for the location of the spoon and shirt, probably wondering whether it was worth risking his life to get them at all. 

Bustopher Jones put a great deal of money into the coffers, which funded food and resources for the infirmary. And the St. James Street Cat was threatening to withdraw every last penny should his possessions not be returned in pristine condition. So yes, it was worth risking his life to prevent the tribe from starving. But, there was a problem. 

Although the spoon was exceptionally well polished, the water was as black as tar. Rumpleteazer could almost hear Munkustrap's brain ticking as the frown on his face deepened, signalling his decision. He would have to jump in. Which he did, disappearing into the water with a small splash. He resurfaced, wiping water from his eyes and nose, apparently unfazed by the cold. He took a deep breath and dived down again.

She followed the ripples and air bubbles from the bank, and realised they were heading towards a large space between two canal boats. A plan came together like clockwork in her mind. It was too good an opportunity to miss!

He'd been under for almost a minute. The bubbles were growing larger and more numerous, and suddenly she spotted a ghostly figure rising to the surface. She dashed to the edge of the bank, getting there just as he broke the surface, and pounced. There was a splash and a stifled yell. Grabbing a pawful of wet fur, she locked her legs around his torso and fused his lips in a deep hard kiss. He was too busy trying not to drown to prevent the assault, so she managed to get a good feel inside his mouth before he threw her off. By the look on his face, he wanted to call her a few things, but was too busy coughing and spluttering.

She spat water at him, blinking through her drenched fur with a triumphant grin. "That'll teach ya to be more vigilant."

"You're lucky you didn't kill me, or vice versa! One of these days, Teazer —!"

"Can't be too careful THESE DAYS."

He hissed at her. Then looked around and uttered several unMunkustrap-like expletives. In his panic he'd dropped the spoon and shirt.

"Looking for these?" She held up the items he was looking for, and watched his eyebrows practically knit together with silent rage. The spats were heavily stained and the spoon was bent.

He snatched them out of her paw and tossed them onto the path, then pulled himself out after them and shook himself dry.

"Well? Aincha gonna help us out?"

He reached in and hauled her out by the scruff. "There," he grumbled sulkily, dumping the soggy Torbie onto the path. "Now scram, before I thash your behind so raw you won't be able to sit for a week!"

She thumbed her nose at him. "Oooh! Saucy!"

"Piss off!"

It took a lot to make Munkustrap angry. He didn't usually swear. It gave her such a thrill, wondering how far she could push him. As she considered this, she felt a deliciously juicy sensation at the thought of his firm palm on her behind. She was going to have to up her game.

Chapter 2: The Memory of a Kiss

Munkustrap was so angry he could barely think straight, and made no effort to hide it as he passed through the junkyard gates, fixing the two sentries Pouncival and Tumblebrutus with a glare that silently dared them to say something.

Very familiar with Munkustrap's "don't fucking ask" expression, the two males moved dutifully aside, knowing better than to ask how his dip in the canal had gone, especially since neither of them had felt obliged to help, since neither were keen on getting their feet wet.

Munkustrap could tell by their innocently perplexed faces that they'd overheard the entire commotion. The first to so much as mention the incident would get a severe cuff across the head and a month of sentry duty, so they were wise to keep their mouths shut in his presence. They had become so familiar with that scowl on his face that it had almost become a trademark. He had no idea the other Jellicles secretly called it 'Teazed off' and they knew it was a bad time to approach and ask him for anything.

As he headed towards the infirmary complex, Munkustrap kept being plagued by the memory of Rumpleteazer's tongue in his throat. It made him even angrier. He wasn't sure why, or even where the anger was coming from. He just knew he was going to have trouble thinking about anything else from now on. If that was the little game she wanted to play, she'd better hope she liked the taste of losing, because he'd see to it that her mischief was paid for… somehow or another.

This wasn't the first time she had done something like this. Munkustrap didn't know how many times Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer had broken into his den, but he always knew when they had. No door or lock was a barrier for either of them, and no matter how hard he tried to keep them out, Rumpleteazer would come and go as she pleased, leaving nothing behind but her scent. Sometimes, she'd role in his sheets. He wouldn't realise until he was lying in them, inadvertently dreaming about her.

Deep down, he knew he should have acted way back at last year's Ball. Perhaps, if he had taken Rumpleteazer aside and explained why rubbing her bottom against his hip was neither big nor clever, nor was it appropriate for a yearling to do that with her superior, then maybe she wouldn't have carried on? But he'd been too preoccupied with the play and the Jellicle Ball and everything else, dismissing her actions as nothing more than a kitten crush that would be short lived. Unfortunately, her 'flirting' had continued to escalate during the course of the year, to the point where he wasn't sure how to deal with it anymore. He'd tried being firm. She'd laughed in his face. He'd tried using threats. She'd laughed in his face. 

The more it went on, the more he would find himself agonising over her; telling himself she was nothing more than a silly little trouble maker, yet wondering how she was able to push all his buttons simultaneously. Just hearing the sound of her shrill laughter was enough to ruin his day.

---

 

Taking a deep inhale, Munkustrap traipsed into the laundry parlour and threw down the spoon and shirt. He was in such a bad mood, he didn't even stop to apologise to Jellylorum, who was busy ironing a huge pile of sheets. The clang of the spoon had made her jump. "Everything alright, dear?" she asked.

"You tell me!" His voice came out a little nastier than he'd intended, as he indicated the items he'd dumped on the table in front of her.

"Bastet's teeth!" The Calico and white Angora held up the dripping shirt fabric, clicking her tongue dispairingly at the state of it. "I'm going to have a job getting the stains out of this." She swept an eye over Munkustrap's bedraggled appearance. "Let's get you a towel, hang on —"

"Don't bother." 

At his clipped reply, The senior queen paused, clearly taken aback by his rudeness. "Has something else happened?" 

She just had to ask him that!

He took another inhale, feeling his anger subside at being in the presence of someone like Jellylorum, with her kind of motherly sensibility and 'take no shit' attitude. If he hadn't almost drowned, the situation could almost be seen as funny. "I almost got snogged to death by Rumpleteazer. Could have written it on my death certificate."

He let a small smirk creep across his face. He couldn't help it. Rumpleteazer's invasion of his mouth seemed to have awakened something inside him, a deep longing to tame the beast that was wayward and wild; and that desire wasn't going to be put back to sleep anytime soon. He thought about the sodden little thing he'd fished out of the canal and what he'd said to her. Talk about bad choice of words! Why on Earth had he gone and mentioned her behind? 

He noticed the smile that tugged at Jellylorum's lips and knew the secret was out. Although a senior, she wasn't so old that she couldn't admire a male physique from time to time, and she wasn't a bit surprised at Rumpleteazer's behaviour. 

"You know... I've said it before... I think she has a crush on you, dear."

He let out a bark of dry laughter. "You think?" 

He saw the twinkle in her hazel eyes that meant she knew more than she was letting on, because of course, she was female. If only he had such insight. 

"Well?” she asked teasingly. “What do you think of her?"

"I don't know." That was the truth. He wasn't sure how he felt about Rumpleteazer, at least, not in a way that could be put into words. There were moments when he despised her so much, if there was anyone in the world whose neck he'd be happy to wring, it would be hers. But then, to have her begging on her knees like the little slut she pretended to be was also rather tempting. 

Bast, where had THAT come from?! He tried to scrub the thought from his mind, but of course, that horse had already bolted long before the gate had been closed and the image remained, as stubborn as the miscreant herself.

Chapter 3: So Close

Sitting behind a large pipe, Rumpleteazer spied on Munkustrap, jealousy burning hot in her eyes. Why did he give Jemima so much attention? It wasn't like she was his daughter or anything! Oh yeah, he'd ADOPTED her. He must have really loved Demeter to have done that, Rumpleteazer thought bitterly, wondering why no-one ever did anything special for HER. "I'd never leave ya, not like SHE did," she muttered spitefully under her breath, almost hoping he'd overhear.

Cats could do that. Hear the smallest whisper if it were close by. He must have heard, but he was too busy listening to Etcetera, while the striped Angora cross complained energetically about how she could no longer bend over to put her dance shoes on and how keeping her creamy coloured fur tidy was becoming such a struggle.

Rumpleteazer sighed. Munkustrap's daughters were all younger than her, and yet they'd settled down and were starting happy families BEFORE her! It wasn't fair! And what was even more unfair was that the tom she wanted so badly was also the one who hated her the most.

He had less interest in her than if she were a pile of dog faeces, but she could still dream. She imagined him looking at her, giving her a smile like the patient one he now had on for his daughters. A kind of smile that would invite her to draw close and share in the pile of love, as though the sheer sight of her was enough to brighten his mood no matter how dark it was to begin with. But he never looked at her that way, so she had to be content with his rage and the occasional ticked off glare. It was better than being ignored.

It was early afternoon, a time when most Jellicles had completed their morning tasks and were ready for their naps; what was known as the afternoon recharge. Several queens had congregated on the tyre, talking lazily and cuddling up to their favourite Protector. Rumpleteazer kept her distance. She knew they didn't want her around, partly because she wasn't family, and also because of her reputation. No one liked a thief. But her sensitive ears could still pick up every word of their conversation, so she kept herself hidden and listened.

She bit back a tidal wave of envy as Munkustrap lavished his undivided attention upon his daughters, putting an arm around Victoria and Jemima's shoulders, while Electra and Etcetera leaned into him, all smiles and laughter and comparing bump sizes. Jemima was the only one out of them who was not pregnant, but it probably wouldn't be very long before she too was proudly showing her protruding belly to the world. It was enough to make Rumpleteazer feel sick to her stomach.

"Munk's the skinniest out of all of us — apart from you, sweetie." The elegantly beautiful Bombalurina was reclining just above Munkustrap, her slender paw resting on her own moderately enlarged midsection as though subconsciously trying to protect it from something unseen. She winked at Jemima. "We won't have to wait long, I'm sure. The way Tumble looks at you, I'm surprised it hasn't happened already. And Vic! That has to be one of the neatest bumps I've ever seen! You can't possibly have three in there!"

The pure white Angora smiled and held up four pink-padded digits.

"Four? You were hiding one? Well, that does happen, doesn't it? I honestly can't believe you're about to pop, sweetie, you look simply divine."

"How's everything going for you, Bombi?" Electra enquired.

Concern was evident in the tiger striped queen's face, but Bombalurina merely scoffed. "What? These things? They're sitting on my bladder quite nicely thank you. Thought I'd come out for some fresh air. It's so stuffy on the ward, the only fun thing to do is eat and have them use my ribs as a kick piano."

"How many?"

"The initial estimate was six, but now they're saying it could be more. Oh, what joy. Serves me right I suppose." The red Somali gave a pretend exasperated sigh, looking poignantly at Munkustrap and laying her black gloved paw on his shoulder. "No offense, darling, but your offspring is making me fat and very uncomfortable."

Munkustrap smirked. "None taken."

"That's when you're meant to disagree."

His expression turned mischievous. "Who says I disagree?"

That earned him a slap on the upper arm. "Such a charmer."

---

Rumpleteazer waited for everyone to disperse. As was often the case, Munkustrap was the last to leave, giving the area a final scan to ensure everything was shipshape before leaping confidently from the tyre. Quietly, Rumpleteazer got up from her hiding place and followed him. It wasn't easy. He doubled back on himself several times, clearly paranoid — or perhaps aware, that he was being followed. She lost sight of him among the junk piles. Luckily, she knew his routine and where he would be at this time of the day. After all, a Protector had to sleep sometime.

Clutching a large package to her chest, Rumpleteazer climbed to his den and crept nervously towards the front door, raising her arm to knock. She hesitated. Could she do this? The knotted wood stared coldly back at her, as though to remind her that she wasn't welcome.

She hesitated a few more times, then raised her paw in a more assertive manner. She COULD do this! Luckily, she didn't have to knock, because the door was suddenly jerked open.

He stood in the doorway, looking like a colossus with his huge arms crossed and his eyes freezing into hers like ice shards. Not for the first time, she felt very small in his presence. "Pro-tec-TOR?" She curtseyed. She couldn't help herself.

"What do you want?" His voice was low and threatening, making it clear she was the very last person he wanted to see.

She made her eyes go very wide and watery. "That's not very polite! Aincha gonna ask me in?"

He tried blocking the door with his arm, but she simply slipped under it. "Most kind of ya!"

Munkustrap threw back his head, taking a deep antagonized breath to try to calm his very last nerve. Then he checked outside to make sure no one was watching and quietly shut the door. "What do you want, Rumpleteazer?" he repeated.

"What's wrong with Teazer?" She cocked her head to the side, trying to look innocent, then carried on looking around, almost daring him to stop her; blatantly trying to get a reaction out of him, invading his personal space, reveling in being in his 'tom cave.' A mischievous smile crept across her lips as her eyes landed on his bed, which was no more than a quilt with an array of blankets. An acoustic guitar was propped against the wooden wall beside it, of which she couldn't resist plucking a few of the strings, creating a warm hum that cut through the chilly atmosphere. The tension in the room was so great it felt as though anything she touched might instantly freeze solid. "Nice gaff you got ere. Very... poshe." She made a great display of sashaying over to the walnut bookcase and marvelling at the volumes. As if she'd never seen them before! "Like your books, don't ya? What's An-im-al Farm about?"

Munkustrap didn't say anything, just stayed by the door, tail swinging, staring at her coldly as she scanned through his leather bound books and collection of classical records. "What's in the package?" The tone of his voice was accusatory rather than curious. He knew her too well!

She shrugged, still trying to read the titles on the book spines. "Oh, just a bit of Argentine joint. Can 'ave it if you want?"

He hadn't eaten, she was quite certain. Not since yesterday. She also knew that beef was his favourite.

"Well? D'you wannit or not? I can 'ear your stomach from over 'ere, so dan't bover tellin me you ain't 'ungry." Grinning a little too broadly, she brought the brown paper package over to the table, untied the string and unwrapped it, taking a long sniff. "Mmm. Cooked to perfec-TION!"

Hunger got the better of Munkustrap. He rolled his eyes and moved away from the door, slumping onto a chair beside the table. Looking at Teazer suspiciously, he picked up a small piece of meat and gave it a sniff.

"What? You fink I'd ruin a good piece of meat?" She exclaimed, looking affronted.

"I wouldn't put it past you. Why else would you be trying to feed me?"

"Dan't wanna see you wastin' away is all." She rolled her eyes. "Look, if you're that bovered..." She grabbed a slice and stuffed it into her mouth, chewed and swallowed it. Then opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue. "There! 'Appy now?"

Still looking suspicious, Munkustrap popped the meat into his mouth. He wouldn't admit he enjoyed it, not in a million years.

"See?" She said encouragingly. "It's good, innit? Why doncha 'ave some more?"

He helped himself to another slice, clearly savouring the iron richness, but suddenly his face froze as he tasted something else. Too late, he realised she was staring at him in a most peculiar way, as though expecting something to happen and unable to contain her excitement about it.

"Hmm... It's not bad," he muttered thoughtfully as he picked something out of his teeth. "Strange flavour combination."

"Oh, right?" She'd apparently been holding her breath.

"Yeah," he continued. "I'm not sure nip goes well with beef."

The expression on her face changed to confusion, then to sudden horror as he launched himself from his seat, grabbed her by the throat and slammed her back onto the table. The sound of her head hitting the wood made a dull cracking sound, a small cry escaped from her mouth. "It's not what you think..." She barely gasped.

The drug was already having an affect. Her eyes were rolling and she felt drunk and in need of a hug. His pupils were dilated slightly, but suspected they weren't as wide as hers.

"Nice try, Rumpleteazer. I'll give you a one for effort, but if having me drooling on the floor was part of your plan, I'm afraid you'll have to do better."

She looked confused. "Why didn't —?"

"Why didn't it work?" Munkustrap chuckled, a vicious grin creeping across his features. "I'll let you into a little secret, shall I? Once upon a time, nip was my drug of choice. That was before I went for something stronger!"

For the first time in her life, Rumpleteazer was both shocked AND speechless. She mouthed things, but no words came out. She was having trouble believing what he was saying and he obviously found it highly amusing, having the upper hand for a change.

"But surely, Munkustrap would never do drugs?" Munkustrap mimicked her high voice and then switched back to his usual low, menacing tone. "Hard to believe, isn't it? But there you are, and now you know. We all have dirty secrets. Skeletons in our closets. That's one of mine."

Having gotten over the shock, Rumpleteazer suddenly looked defiant. "What if I tell?"

"You could," Munkustrap agreed. "But then I could just deny everything. Who do you think they would believe? Me? Or a lying little toerag like you?"

She knew she should've been terrified, not to mention hurt by his cruel words, but for the weight of his body pressing into hers, his scent in her nostrils, the pounding of her heart and a sense of her body opening up. His entire body was built, taut muscles, the epitome of masculine beauty, adorned with a flowing cascade of silver and black fur that grew thickest from his chest down to the abs of his torso. She traced the bulging muscles of his biceps with her eyes, wanting so badly to touch them.

You can have me right now, she silently begged. Any way you want. My body is yours.

If it wasn't for his iron grip pinning her, she'd have tried to kiss him. It was torture, having his lips so close, yet so far. And as though to tantalise her further, she felt something harden, jabbing into her inner thigh. He was turned on by this?

She swallowed painfully and tried to hook her legs around his hips, trying to gain some sensation, her cunt pulsing desperately for him to fill her up and end her longing. "Do you think about it?" She ventured, sneaking her tail up his inner thigh, causing him to exhale sharply.

"Think about what?"

"Last year? You smackin' me arse. Cos I do. I think about it a lot."

He chuckled coldly, rubbing his thumb over the side of her jaw, his eyes hungry, like that of a predator deciding how best to finish off its prey. "You think I spend my time fantasising about a petty criminal and trickster? How stupid do you think I am?"

She was trying to shake her head. "I don't think you're stupid."

"Neither are you." Releasing her, he forcefully unhooked her legs and turned his back on her. "You know it would never work between us. For more reasons than one."

She stayed where she was, massaging her throat. She'd been rejected, the pain in her chest and emptiness in her loins far worse than the soreness in her neck and head. "I'll do anything..." Her voice was rasping, like paper. She sat up, her voice trembling even more. "I'll be anything you want me to be!" It sounded futile and desperate, but she didn't care. Her mind was telling her it was hopeless, but she didn't want to hear. From the way he was standing she could practically tell what he was thinking. He didn't need to see the tears in her eyes. He'd heard enough. The break in the voice, the emotional blackmail. He didn't need that shit.

"Good. Then you can make yourself disappear."

"Munk please —"

He turned and snarled, gesturing where she should go. "Door's that way! Don't make me throw you out!"

Her face changed, her hurt turning to fury. Such empty threats, discarding her like she was nothing more than a piece of rubbish? NO ONE treated Rumpleteazer like that! Well... they did. But it only bothered her when HE did it. He was going to be sorry. He didn't scare her! She would show him she was more than just a piece of rubbish!

"Or what?" She provoked, her voice turning to a sultry whisper. "Big Protector gonna spank me?"

She didn't regret saying that, imagining the mental image she'd just placed in his head. To her disappointment, it didn't show up on his face. If anything, his expression darkened, turning colder than a granite block.

Tough nut, eh? Even the toughest nut can crack under the right amount of pressure. "Think you're too good for me, do ya?" Wearing a succubus grin, she shifted her arse onto the table and spread her legs. Licking her lips, she stroked her paws down her thighs, signalling a clear path for him to stare at, which he couldn't stop himself doing.

She watched his Adam's apple move painfully. "Teazer, what are you doing?"

Wasn't it obvious? He might be strong enough to crush her ribs with a single arm, but he was still a male, still afflicted with the same weakness they all were.

She could tell it was having an affect, but decided to up the anti a little. Parting her lips, she dipped her fingers into her nether regions, uttering a small moan and softly breathing out his name.

"Stop." It was a command, or was it pleading?

"You tellin me you don't wanna taste of this? You never did keep that promise of yours." She dropped to the floor, letting the words linger on her tongue while she moved closer.

His breath quickened. For the first time ever, Munkustrap looked helpless, as though the rug had been pulled out from under his feet. Every attempt to remain calm was betrayed by his body, by his parted lips and hypnotized gaze. "Your propinquity could make a tom forget himself," he mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"It means you're too close!" he warned her in a menacing voice, but she ignored him, moving to stand in front of him. Of course, she knew all his weaknesses. Smiling wickedly, she splayed her paw across his chest, feeling the soft warmth of his fur and the racing of his heart. She stroked down his centre, feeling his hard abs beneath her fingers, how the muscles flexed as they reacted to her touch.

There was hatred in his eyes. "Don't!"

"What's the matter? Afraid you might like it?" She meant to go lower, but was stopped by his paw that wrapped around her wrist, finding a nerve at the base of her thumb and pinching it, hard, pulling her hand away.

"Enough!" He spoke sharply.

"Ow! Munk, that 'urts! Fuck!" She cried out as he pinched harder, her face screwing up with agony as she tried to twist out of his grasp, her struggle against him futile. No matter how much she tried, he was infinitely stronger.

"I warned you, but you chose to keep playing games," he said through gritted teeth while he part led, part dragged her like a naughty kitten towards the door, dumping her, hissing and cursing, outside on the doorstep.

Now there really were tears in her eyes, her face ablaze with fury as she got straight back up, shaking out her throbbing paw. "Answer me one thing, yeah? ONE THING! You give em so much: Deme, Bombi... Why not me, eh?"

He gave an unpleasant laugh. "That's the problem, Teazer. You think of no one but yourself. Why would I want to fuck a dirty little thief and have her raise my kittens as criminals? Better you try for a common stray!"

She was struck by his words, reeling at the cruelness of them. She swallowed. "You know what? Maybe I will! You're a piece of shit, Munkustrap! What would the others say if they saw you treating a queen like dirt?"

He hissed, showing her his fangs. "Give it up. You're not wanted here. Do yourself a favour and fuck off back to your pearls and don't ever come here again!"

"Don't worry I'm going! You won't see me no more, but you'll wish you 'ad!"

Turning her back so he wouldn't see her angry tears, she waved him her middle claw as she stormed off.

---

Munkustrap glared after her for a moment, then shut the door, heaving a tremendous sigh. He'd gotten rid of her, hopefully for good. Why did he feel like shit all of a sudden?

Notes:

I have an idea of how to end this, so don't give up on me! I'm just really snowed under with another project right now. Hopefully I'll get back to this in the future.