‘Twas the Eve of All Hallows, and throughout the house,
Two little cats were being chased by a mouse.

The mouse in question was named Max, and the 10-year old was running out of steam. The way he figured it, if there were only one 4-year old kitten to chase, he’d be able to take her. After all, he was bigger, older, and faster. Unfortunately, they were twins, who not only looked and sounded alike, but moved alike…faster than you’d expect. And tonight, they were even dressed alike, in matching Pikachu ^TM outfits.

"I can’t believe I used to think you little demons were cute!", he grumbled, as the older of the pair (by a whole 5 minutes) Britanny, dashed across the room, just out of the reach of his grasping paws. His orange gi, once the height of juvenile fashion, now seemed to weigh like lead on his aching frame.

From her perch on the stairs, Brit’s twin Elin giggled at her big brother’s antics. "Maxie funny!"

"Aw…gimme a break ‘Lin," he sighed, getting only further giggles in response. He coiled his tail beneath him, and sprang for the stairs. Elin squeezed past, and made a break for the kitchen, and the remnants of a night’s worth of treats.

Sprawled on the landing, Max watched her dive into the bowl of candy corn and M&M’s. The sugar rush would keep her going all night. Then two yellow feet filled his vision. And a matching paw bapped him on the nose.

"Tag, yerit!" Brit squealed, and ran to the dining room. Her bootied feet, while stylish, were not designed for traction, and when they hit the waxed floor, friction vanished.

"Oh no…" Max whispered, scrambling to his feet, as his sister slid out of control underneath the table. As he sprinted across the connected rooms (his bare feet giving him better traction), he watched in horror as she collided with the sideboard.

Time slowed as the priceless vase atop it (sent from Tibet by Uncle Tundra), began to rock…and fall.

"NOOOOOO!!!!" Max shouted and dove for it. Yards, feet. Inches... almost, but not enough. He closed his eyes, dreading the inevitable.

And there was silence. His nose twitched, reacting to the familiar scent of strawberries and freesia. Max winced.

"Would you like to explain yourself, young man?"

Max looked up at the lithe fuku-clad figure, holding the vase in one tawny hand. "Hi, Mom."

"Don’t you ‘Hi, Mom’ me, Maxwell," Illyanna growled, (and with her leonine heritage, she could growl really well) "I trusted you to watch the twins, and this is what I find?"

"But.. but.. but.."

"Sounds a bit like an outboard motor, doesn’t he?" Solitaire murmured, walking into the room. He’d shed his hat and cape, and had Elin firmly tucked under one arm. "I found this little engine motoring through a bowl of M&M’s."

"Oh for goodness sake," she sighed, pulling a tissue from her purse. As her husband toted his wiggling burden back to the living room, she gathered her other offspring with a glance. Max winced, and slowly stood. With Brit firmly latched onto his tail, he slowly marched into the room, dreading the inevitable.

On the couch, Sol held his daughter firmly on his lap, while his wife attempted to clean off her face with a combination of spit and friction. Max trudged over to a chair, and after gingerly extracting his tail from Britanny’s death grip, thumped down. And of course, Brit jumped into his lap.

Momentarily satisfied with her efforts, Illy turned and stared pointedly at her errant adopted son. "Well?"

Max took a deep breath, "I took them to the party, and made sure they didn’t get into trouble, even though I had to skip the party I was invited to, and then got them home and started handing out candy at the door to like the entire city, but then they got into the candy, and got all hyper and started running around and I couldn’t keep up and if I never hear the word ‘Pika’ again it’ll be too soon."

And he exhaled.

Illyanna looked at her husband.

Solitaire looked at his wife.

They both looked at Max. "PIKA! PIKA!!"

Max put his head in his paws, and sighed.

"No harm done," Solitaire murmured, "I’m sure that next year, you’ll do a much better job."

Max looked up, "You mean I hafta do this again? How come you always go out on Halloween, anyway?"

Sol glanced at Illy, "Didn’t we tell him before?"

She shrugged. "I guess not. Mind if I do the honors, beloved?"

Sol nodded, "Go ahead. You’re the storyteller of the family."

"Well, it all started five years ago…" As her voice trailed on, the scene wavered.

"Mommy?" Brit mewed.

"Relax brat," Max whispered, "It’s only a flashback."

"Oh, OK", she snuggled.

"It all started one summer day about five years ago," she began, "I was working on a song and was having trouble getting it right. I ended up at the Nexus…"

The Nexus, a huge, almost circular room, served as a prime gathering place for the local community. As it’s many doors lead all over the city, many people met there to do business, pleasure, or pleasurable business.

One of these doorways opened up, revealing a buxom young lioness focused on the pages in front of her, to the exclusion of all else. Naturally, in a place as busy as the Nexus, this lead to a collision.

"OOF!" her unfortunate target exhaled, as papers flew. The slender ocelot immediately kneeled to help gather the sheets, as did she. Heads collided.

"We have to keep meeting like this," the stranger whispered quietly.

The lioness giggled, blushing, "I’m sorry…I wasn’t watching where I was going…"

He handed her the papers in his hands and shrugged, "That is no problem."

He wandered off, as she watched him go. Making her way to a bank of benches, she started placing the pages in order. But her mind was not on her work. Instead, it was on a mane of reddish hair, strong spotted shoulders, and kind green eyes.

"True love, she is a myth. Such a thing does not exist." a deep, strongly accented voice declared.

"I don’t believe that," his voice replied, "Somewhere, out there, is a woman for you, Maurice. Someone who loves you, that you can love in return."

She looked up to see him talking to an elegantly dressed, slightly oily skunk morph.

"I have loved many women in my time, young Sol, occasionally many times." Maurice replied, sneering, "And none of them were worth the expense."

"You may have made love to them" the ocelot replied, face grave, "but I do not believe you were in love. I can’t. There must be more to love than a few sweaty moments of pleasure."

"Feh!" the skunk snarled, standing, "You are un idéaliste. You will learn better."

He stalked off to one of the portals, and Sol watched him go. "I hope not, Maurice." He whispered. Then he shrugged, and reaching into his backpack, pulled out a battered sketchpad.

Music long forgotten, the lioness watched him. As afternoon turned to evening, she watched him hard at work. Occasionally, as he glanced in her direction, she pretended to be looking elsewhere.

Finally, as morning changed to afternoon, she inhaled deeply (and impressively), stood, and walked over to him.

"Hiya!" she chirped. Hastily, he closed his pad and looked up.

"Oh, hello again," he replied. He stiffened slightly as she sat beside him.

"My name is Illyanna, but you can call me Illy."

He reached over and shook her hand, "My name is Solitaire. My friends call me Sol."

He looked up into her eyes and froze. Still holding hands, they sat together as the minutes ticked by. At last, Illy shook her head, and let go. At a loss for a reply, she cast her gaze down to the bench, and noticed the sketchpad at his side.

"Oh, you draw! Can I see!"

Sol blinked.

"Oh sure…hold on." He snatched up the pad, muttering "That isn’t finished, let me show you something else." Rummaging in his backpack he pulled out a portfolio, and opened it.

For the next several hours, they pored over his work, sitting together at the bench. Illy kept glancing over at him, but he seemed blind to her interest, only showing passion for his work.

Finally, as sunset streamed through the western gates, Illy sighed. "I have to go, Sol."

She picked up a pencil, and quickly scrawled her phone number on a scrap of paper, "I enjoyed talking with you," she murmured, shaking his hand. To her surprise, a similar paper was pressed into her palm.

"As did I, my lady," he replied, eyes shining. "Until we meet again."

"Oh, we shall" she smiled, heart singing. As she skipped over to the gate, she glanced at the paper, burning the numbers into her memory.

"We met a couple of times for lunch.. and dinner… and soon we fell in love. That Halloween, we were married. The happiest day of my life."

Illy glanced down, only to see that Elin had joined her sister on Max’s lap, and that all three were out like a light. "Awwww…."

"Beautiful, aren’t they?" Sol replied from behind her, toting a dilapidated sketchpad. "Between the two of us, I’d say we did a great job."

Illy reached up as he bent over, to nuzzle her neck. "Is that?"

Sol nodded, placing the pad on her lap. "I realized I never showed you the picture I was working on that day. I think tonight would be the perfect time to show it to you."

Forehead wrinkled with confusion, Illyanna opened the sketchpad, turning to the last page. And what should she see, but a portrait, expertly done, of a buxom young lioness reading some papers.

She looked up, eyes brimming with tears. Sol smiled down at her.

"I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you…I was just too scared to admit it."

Illy smiled back, eyes glittering wickedly, "Not so scared now, are you. Come now, beloved, let’s put the children to bed, so I can give you my present."

"Oh?"

Again, she grinned, "Oh yes. Meet me in the bedroom… and lock the door."