A/N: Hope you like this! Don't get put off by the twoleg pov, there will be cat pov by the end...
"Daddy, how do babies come?" Asked Nicky.
My dad scratched his head. "Well...err...Mommies and Daddies...uh...uh..."
"Write a letter to the stork!" Mom called from the kitchen.
"Yes! Yes- they write a letter to the stork, and then a stork comes and- and sometimes, the stork has trouble opening the bag, and that's why-"
"Don't get carried away, hon." Mom warns.
"Right, of course."
"Mom, how is Hattie doing?" I call in. It's been a half an hour, and she's still not done...
"Fine, Janey. She's about halfway through."
"Can we pwease go in and help? We'll be good, we pwomise!" Begs Nicky.
"Yes, let's!" Exclaims Nicky's twin, and my younger sister, Fiona.
"No. You might disturb her."
"Aaawwww, but Daddy..."
"Can I go in, Dad?" I beg.
"No, Jane."
"But Dad, my extra-cred-"
"You can do plenty of extra-credit on the birth of kittens without watching...the...messier parts of the procedure."
"Yeah, and who wants to do homework when there are kittens that are being born?"
"Yeah. You're weird."
"Well, maybe I'm more mature." I say, peeved.
"Alright, that's enough- Nicky! No!"
Nicky has darted into the kitchen.
"It's ok, she's done." My mom says, smiling. "Hattie has given birth to four beautiful kittens."
"Jane! Fiona! The kittens are so cute!"
Sure enough, there are four and cute as can be. Hattie looks tired but happy.
Nicky pokes a little golden one, which kicks out at the touch. "He's squirmy." He observes.
"Nicky, that one's a girl."
I snicker.
"Oh." Nicky says. "I knew that."
"Can we name 'em now? Can we name 'em now?" Begs Fiona.
Mom smiles at her. "Sure, Fiony."
I don't get the deal with naming. It's a name, it doesn't matter who names it, right?
But I can't help but grin as Fiona looks at the little white one appraisingly. "This one is Flower." I laugh. Fiona names everything Flower. It's Nicky's turn now. After close inspection, he points to the brown one. "Wusty!" He says. I feel a pang of sadness. Rusty was our cat before Hattie. I was 8 years old when he ran away. Nicky and Fiona were three. "Daddy?" Asked Nicky, pointing at the black one and shaking me from my thoughts. "Can I name this one, too?"
"Nicky, let Jane-"
"It's OK, dad."
"Yay! I name the black one...Buffalo!"
I snort. "Buffalo?"
"Yes!"
Fiona smirks. "That's weird, Nicky."
"Hey! It's not-"
"That's enough-"
While Fiona and Nicky argue, Dad turns to me. "Well, looks like you get to name the last one."
I crouch down to examine the last one, the one Nicky thought was a boy.
"Sunny."
"Good choice, Janey."
"Hey, look!" Says Fiona.
A black and white cat is scratching our door, meowing loudly.
"Hey, isn't that the cat next door?" Asks Mom.
"I think it is."
"Maybe it's the Daddy!" Exclaims Nicky.
"Uh-huh." I say doubtfully.
"Could be." Says Dad, equally doubtful.
"C'mon, you three. Let's get to bed."
"But my extra-"
"Oh, yes! Don't be long."
Nicky glares at me as dad picks them up and takes them to bed.
I smirk. "Weirdos get special privileges." I whisper to him.
"Humph."
It only takes afew minutes to sketch the kittens and make a few observations.
I walk into our room.
Dad sits on Nicky's bed.
"Tell us the Rusty story, Daddy." Begs Fiona.
"Yes, please!" Agrees Nicky.
"Well, Once upon a time, there was an orange kitty named Rusty lived with a family of five. There was a Mommy and a Daddy, and two lovely daughters and a big strong son."
"And he was very happy." Adds Nicky.
"Yes, he was. But one day, some wild cats came and asked him to live with them."
"And he said yes, and they taught him to survive, and he went on lots of adventures." Murmurs Nicky sleepily.
"And he lived happily ever after." Finishes Fiona softly.
"Yes he did."
I walk after him as he leaves. When we're out of earshot, I ask, "Dad, do you think that story could be true?" I ask hopefully.
Dad says sadly, "I don't know, Jane. He was only a kitten when he disappeared, and the forest and the streets are pretty rough places..."
"You think he found a new home?"
"It's possible."
"Oh."
Poor Rusty.
"Good night, dad."
"Good-night, Jane."
"Smudge!"
"Hattie! How are the kits? How many are there? What did your housefolk name them? Are there-"
"Calm down," Hattie tells her mate. "There are two toms, a brown and and a black one, and two she-cats, a yellow one and white one."
"What are they-"
"The twolegs called them Sunny, Flower, Rusty-"
"Firestar...I hope he's doing OK." Sighs Smudge.
"The last one is called...Buffalo...I think."
"What's a Buffalo?"
"I don't have the slightest idea."
A/N: Did you like it? Review! Constructive criticism welcome!