Mouse Trapped - bxb tom and jerry style.

Mouse Trap

Some people believed that outdoor cats were cold, unfriendly, mindless hunters who did nothing but wonder all night and drop little dead things on the front porch, but Tom the gray and white cat was nearly the opposite. He was pampered half to death during his time indoors, passing freely through the cat flap on the back door. The Old Lady has had Tom his whole life, since he was a kitten, and as a fully grown cat Tom loved her dearly, and would do anything protect her.

Including, of course, kill mice.

For a good long while, Tom was a kitten worth telling about. Not a single rodent passed under his paw without becoming a meal. He caught everything quickly and cleanly, and The Old Lady praised him endlessly. That all changed when Jerry moved in.

Jerry, as one might assume, was a mouse. A very sneaky, clever, tiny, and elusive little mouse. Tom loathed that tiny little mouse. Jerry knew all the right places to run, climb, and hide to keep out of reach of Tom's hungry jaws. The Old Lady was terrified of mice, and whenever she saw Jerry she'd shriek for Tom to come kill the little beast. She'd smack at Jerry with a broom, even getting in a few good hits as Tom tried to corner him, and though there was always a good fight, Jerry always managed to escape alive, slinking into one of the houses many mouse holes. The Old Lady still loved Tom in spite of Jerry's elusive nature, but there was always that disappointment whenever Jerry got away.

For this, Tom held more of a grudge against Jerry than what was normal for cat and mouse.

Tom was lurking by Jerry's mouse hole one night, all of this stewing in his mind as his paws padded softly against the linoleum kitchen floor. It was late, the moon was almost at the highest point in the sky, and when that happened Jerry would have to come out of his hole and face Tom. He wouldnt have a choice, because when the moon reached it's peak, all of the animals in the town changed into people until morning light hit. If Jerry stayed in his mouse hole too long, he'd crush himself when he changed, so Tom formulated a plan: Block every hole, forcing Jerry out and into his clutches just before moonrise. The house would be rodent free again, and stay that way for good.

Tom's tail flicked with anticipation as he felt the tingling in his spine. The moon was in place, the transformation was about to begin; if Jerry didn't come out now, he'd be dead anyway. This was it, he felt his back stretching, his head changing, snout retreating into his face, legs extending, shoulders shifting and more until he was standing on two feet, panting, half man and half cat. His ear twitched and he got down on his hands and knees, glaring at the mouse hole. There was no blood, no sounds of a body being crushed inside the wall, and no sign of an escape. What the hell had gone wrong?

Just then a gentle clink caught Tom's attention and he stood so fast his his bell collar jingled obnoxiously. He ran into the kitchen to see a petite little brunet in bright blue shorts and a large white button up with the sleeves rolled up. A thin, brown tail peeked out of a hole in the shorts, and two round ears parted the small man's hair. The tail was arched lightheartedly, and Jerry was standing barefoot on his tip toes, reaching for a loaf of french bread that sat atop the fridge. He finally got it down and set it by the roll of cheese he had already acquired, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips in preparation for his feast.

Tom's eye twitched in irritation, and with an angry yowl rushed at Jerry, fists swinging. The mouse yelped in alarm and ditched his bounty, dashing into the dining room and starting the chase. The two of them scrambled around the house for what seemed like hours, knocking things over, always trying to out smart one another until finally, finally, Tom had Jerry in a corner, both hands around the smaller man's neck and squeezing.

Jerry sucked in a choked gasp of air, Tom was squeezing his airways shut. The mouse already had evidence of many healing injuries: a bandage wrapped around his forehead from it being slammed into the brick wall outside, a bruise under his left eye from being backhanded, a brace on his wrist from where Tom had stepped on it, and a busted lip to top it all of. Now he was going to have hand shaped bruises around his neck, too! He squirmed and fought, desperately trying to suck down some oxygen before he passed out. Tom shook him and he let out a strangled whimper. "How did you do it," Hissed the cat. "How did you escape?"

He loosened his grip just enough for Jerry to breathe, and the mouse coughed violently, gulping down air until his eyes watered. His neck throbbed, visibly red, but he didnt speak.

"Answer me!" Tom growled, slamming him against the wall.

Jerry's head hit hard and he was dizzied, eyes loosing focus for a moment. "I-I..."

Tom dropped Jerry and slammed his fist against the wall. "Tell me!"

Without the cat holding him up, Jerry slid to the floor, gasping. Tom snarled in irritation, but no matter how he threatened Jerry didnt speak. Tom's ears turned forward and he narrowed his eyes, nudging Jerry in the ribs with his foot. Did he pass out? He knelt down, frowning, and tilted his head down to listen for breathing.

Before he knew what hit him, Jerry kicked Tom in the gut with both feet, jumped up, and ran. The chase was on again.

This was how most nights in the house went along, and by the time it was over, Jerry was aching all over. He may have been faster and smarter, but Tom was stronger, and once Tom got a hold of him? He was sure to sustain an injury or six before escaping. It was almost morning when Jerry finally managed to hide, crouched into a ball high up on the closet shelf. He nursed his injuries to the best of his ability, tears streaking down his cheeks. Why did it always have to be this way? No matter what house he found, there was always SOMETHING there to beat on him. Dogs, cats, snakes and ferrets, EXTERMINATORS and worse! There was no safe place for a little mouse like him. He sniffled pathetically, cursing Tom and every other cat to ever push him around just as he felt the closet wrack fall from beneath him, the far end cut with a saw.

"Tom give it a rest, would you!" Jerry cried, breaths shaking as he held his ankle. Searing pain was shooting all the way up his leg, stemming from where he had landed wrong. His foot was twisted at a sickening angle, and was already beginning to swell. "Can't you call it a night, or are you really going to kill me this time?"

Tom held the little saw tight in his hand and grabbed Jerry by the shirt front, the vein on his neck throbbing angrily. Finally he had Jerry, finally he could end it all. He lifted the saw and saw the mouse flinch, squeezing his eyes shut and trembling in fear. Tom felt powerful, Jerry couldnt run! He had finally won! He was going for the kill, but then he hesitated, the sound of Jerry's terrified breathing stopping him. He remembered when he was a kitten, sitting alone in a box after all his fluffy white brothers and sisters were adopted. He had been all alone when suddenly a possessed dachshund had been let of its leash. It would have killed Tom, and never had he felt worse terror, but The Old Lady found him there and rescued him. She's cared for him ever since.

Cursing under his breath Tom tossed the saw away and extended his hand instead. He glared at the open closet door, unable to meet Jerry's eyes. "Come on, I'll find you a place to lie down until morning," He grumbled, ears burning in embarrassment. "Hurry the hell up though before I change my mind."

Jerry opened his teary eyes, stunned. He had been sure Tom was going to kill him. Obviously, he didnt trust the cat one bit, but thinking nothing could be worse than being sawed to bits Jerry took Tom's hand anyway.

With surprising strength, Tom hoisted Jerry up and carried him like a little kid, walking him up into the attic, stirring the dust that looked as if it hadnt been disturbed in years. Tom coughed, and Jerry sneezed, but were used to it in a minute or two. Tom set Jerry down on a stool and dragged an aged mattress out from under a table, beating it a few times with a broom to raise some of that dust before getting out a moth eaten quilt and spreading it out rather nicely. For a pillow, he rolled up a table cloth. "You should be able to rest okay here," Tom mumbled, laying Jerry down on the make shift bed. "In both forms. I won't disturb you, and neither will The Old Lady. She never comes up here."

Jerry stared, speechless. Tom had actually helped him.

"I'll bring food by when I can," The cat added awkwardly.

Jerry shook his head incredulously. "Why are you doing this?"

Tom was silent for a long time, but though he opened his mouth to reply, he quickly closed it again, sneering rudely before storming out of the attic, leaving Jerry alone with nothing but stirred up emotions, and a thick layer of dust.