Skimble's Day Off
by Mystitat
A/N: For story purposes, please imagine Skimble's den as having a front door (you'll see why later). And for the sake of my poor fingers, Skimble's speech is not written in accent, but it is intended to sound Scottish. This story was written especially for the real "Jessedandle," the one and only Skimbleshanks fangirl. Enjoy!
Skimbleshanks sighed as he made his way home through the dirty streets of London. He'd just finished a run with the Oriental Express, and while he loved riding the trains, he couldn't wait to be home. Who would have thought riding around, sitting in train cars, and supervising stupid humans could be so exhausting? He couldn't wait to be home. Especially because this would be the first time seeing Jennyanydots in about a month! She may have been getting on in years, but she certainly wasn't losing her spark, Skimble was sure of that! He sighed again just thinking about her. All Skimble wanted right then was to get to his den, get a good welcome-back-hug from Jenny, and sit down in his favorite tattered old bean-bag chair and relax (why some kid had thrown that thing out was beyond him; it was still a great place to sit). Nothing would be so nice right now as to be able to end his journey and put his feet up. He was hungry, too, and had a good hankerin' for one of Jenny's great mouse-cakes, with bacon and cheese on the side. He absolutely loved having one of the only cats who could literally cook as his mate. He certainly wasn't feeling up to going out and hunting up something for himself.
For despite his youthful appearance, and though he would never admit it, Skimble really struggled with the idea of whether or not he was getting too old for this. Just the walk down to the station was becoming difficult, even though he always had a blast once he boarded the train and met all his old friends again: the conductor, the baggage boys, the station-master's daughters, they were all as close as family to him. If he ever stopped riding the trains, he would really miss them.
Finally, Skimble arrived at the humble den he shared with Jenny that they called, "Home." Immediately he was assaulted by a pack of kittens of various colors and ages shouting, "Uncle Skimble, you're back!" and "Skimble! I missed you!" and "Skimble, tell a train story," and "Skimble, what happened to your tail?" Skimble looked down at his tail. The tuft of fur that normally covered the end of it was conspicuously missing.
"That's a story for another time, kits," he told the kittens who were still clinging to him. "Right now, I've got to get inside!"
"WHY?" they all chorused.
"Because he hasn't given me a hello-hug yet!"
"Jenny!" Skimble called as he waded through the knee-deep pool of kittens who were still thrilled that their favorite story-telling uncle was back. He somehow got to his mate and lovingly embraced her. "Oh, I missed you, Jenny," he whispered in her ear.
"I missed you too, Skimble," she answered as she sauntered back into the den. "But come inside now. I bet you're hungry, too."
"You always know just what I need, Jenny, ol' girl!" Skimble said to her as he detached himself from the kits, managed to get into his den, and closed the door behind him!
"So, what's been going on while I was away?" Skimble asked as he plopped down on his trusty bean-bag chair and Jenny fixed him something eat.
Jenny smiled. "Oh, the usual," she said. "People gossip, hunt for snacks, things like that. Mistoffelees has been messing around (to no one's surprise). A new queen joined the tribe. I think her name is Jessedandle, or some such thing. She's a real Mary Sue, if you know what I mean." (Skimble had no idea what Jenny meant, but she went on.) "Munkustrap has been worrying about this, that, and the other thing, as usual. Let's see, what else? Jellylorum has been experimenting with baking. I told her she'd be a pro if she put her mind to it! Pouncival found a stockpile of new garbage he's been playing with." Jenny stopped and looked over at her mate. He was giving her that look that meant You're talking too much again, dear. Realizing that she was, indeed, talking too much, Jenny finished, "But it's nothing you need to worry about."
Smiling, Skimble replied, "That's a relief, dear. Because I don't think I'll be able to do anything for the next day or so except sit here and eat more of your cooking."
"I'm glad you like it," she said as she brought him his mouse-cake. "I'm sorry I can't stay and talk to you longer, though; Asparagus asked me to come around today. It seems that old Gus has been hallucinating and needs some sense talked into him." She grabbed a few things she needed as she spoke and started to head toward the door.
"Oh, that's all right, Jenny. I rather feel like a nap anyway." Jenny left, and Skimble curled up in his bean-bag chair, and was very close to being asleep, when there came a knock at the door.
knock-knock
With a small sigh, Skimble got up and answered the door. As he opened it, the person standing outside started speaking before he even saw who it was: "Honestly, I'm really not sure what went wrong, Jen – Oh! Hi Skimble!" Mistoffelees said as he realized who was inside. "You're back! I wasn't expecting you back for a couple days at least," he said as they embraced (In a masculine way, of course! Get your mind out of the gutter...).
"It's good to be back, Misto," answered our marmalade hero. "Now what was it you were sayin' about somethin' not workin'?"
"Oh," Misto said, as he rolled his eyes, "It's nothing reall – actually, would you like to come see? I've been trying out this new trick, and Jenny's been helping, but I can't quite get it right. I came over here to see if Jenny could help, but since you're here, you could probably help better than she could. Come on!" Skimble acquiesced, and with that, they left Skimble's den and headed for the main clearing of the junkyard (which was luckily not too far away).
"Now, it's not quite got all the bugs out, yet, but tell me what you think so far," Misto announced as they reached a large heap of something under a red cloth. As he lifted off the cloth with a flourish, the only expression visible on Skimble's face was one of confusion.
"What is it?"
"It's my brand new convertible sitting/relaxing/sleeping spot! Whad'ya think?"
"Well ... it's ... um ... er ... eh ... lumpy."
"Well, duh!"
No matter what Mistoffelees called it, to Skimble, it looked like there was something buried in the ground of the clearing, because all he could see were some earthen lumps about three feet high protruding from the dirt. "Now, um, Misto? What is it supposed to do?" Skimble cautiously asked.
"Well," he replied as if the answer were obvious, "You sit in it! It's magic, you see." ("So I gathered," Skimble thought to himself.) "All you do is sit in it, and it automatically reads your thoughts and adjusts itself for optimum comfort for whatever you want to do, be it sitting, relaxing, or sleeping! Try it! It will adjust to your body shape all on its own."
With a mumbled "Bottoms up," Skimble reluctantly plopped down on the dirt as he would on his bean-bag chair. Unfortunately for his rear end, the earth made no effort to conform to his physiognomy whatsoever.
"OW!"
"Darn. It was really supposed to work this time," Misto muttered as he scratched his head, making no effort at all to help poor Skimble up. "I told you I was having Jenny help me, because, you know, she's kind of the resident expert on sitting around here. And she kept telling me to put more magic into it, that it wasn't soft enough, but I kind of think what happened is that the ground absorbed so much magic that it turned rock-solid. What do you think, Skimble?"
"Yeah, sounds about right," poor Skimble managed to stammer. "Now will you please help me up!"
Mistoffelees, who had been so preoccupied in the reason why his project wasn't working, now realized his social blunder and helped Skimble up and back to his den. As he saw him off, he called back over his shoulder, "Sorry, Skimble, I should have warned you!" And with that, he was gone.
Skimble shook his head and proceeded inside his den. Upon plopping back down in his proper bean-bag chair, he noticed that Jenny's mouse-cake had gone uneaten in his quest to take a nap, and settled down to eat it right then and there. But before he could...
knock-knock
Somewhat annoyed, Skimble called out, "Who is it?" as he stood up to answer the door.
"It's Rum Tum Tugger, now let me in!"
Not by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin, Skimble thought as he opened the door. As soon as the entrance-way was available, however, Tugger slammed past Skimble and bolted the door behind him. "What in the world - " Skimble started, but he was soon interrupted.
"SHH!" whispered Tugger, "She might still hear us!"
"Who - "
"SHH!"
Skimble rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and contented to wait until Tugger deemed the danger was passed.
"Phew!" he said as he sunk against the door. "Skimble, that was a close one. I really gotta hand it to you for being such a good sport with - "
BOOM!
Before Tugger could get another word out, the door had exploded inward, and three young queenkits stood in the frame. Two were recognizable as Etcetera and Jemima, but Skimble didn't know the other. Ignoring the railway cat, they did a cursory search of the room, until they had apparently found what they were looking for. "There he is!" cried Etcetera, and in a heartbeat all three of them had jumped on the poor Tugger and proceeded to cuddle him. "My Tuggy-Wuggy senses are never wrong!" Etcetera cried again as she fondled Tugger's mane.
"Ahem," Skimble announced, "May I now ask WHY the four of you are in my den?!"
Suddenly, all four of them on the floor stopped moving and turned to look at Skimble. "Would someone please explain why you are all in my den?" Skimble reiterated.
"Sorry, Skimble," Jemima said meekly as she stood up. "We were all just chasing Tugger, and when we found him, he was kinda in your den, and we're really, really sorry, and it'll never happen again," she said, giving him the cutest pout and the most innocent eyes as kittenly possible.
Skimble, about to go off on a tangent on why young kittens should not invade others' homes, suddenly caught a glimpse of the kitten eyes, and was forced to back down. "All right," he mumbled aversely, "Just, leave, please?" Jemima nodded gravely, and all three kittens withdrew from the den in question.
When they were all gone, Tugger cried out, "Hey, Skimble! You really saved my tail back there! I thought those kittens were going to - "
"Out."
"What?"
"Out. I said 'out.' As in 'leave,' Tugger. Okay?"
Tugger got the message, rolled his eyes, and unwillingly strolled out of Skimble's den, keeping his cool and unwilling to admit that he had erred.
When all of the uninvited guests were finally out of his den, Skimble gave enormous sigh and muttered, "Finally! Now where's my - "
gasp!
Skimble's mouse-cake had disappeared!
Outside:
As soon as Tugger stepped out of the den, he was promptly pounced on by Etcetera, who had been waiting on Skimble's roof for the poor tom to come out. Meanwhile, Jemima and Jessedandle (the kitten unknown to Skimble) were gossiping to each other about this and that.
"Works every time," Jemima told Jessedandle as they strolled about the junkyard.
Jessedandle chuckled in agreement, then asked, "So who was that marmalade guy?"
"Him? Oh, that's Skimbleshanks! He's a railway cat. He's not here a lot, though, 'cause he's usually out on the trains and things." Jemima answered.
Jessedandle looked around furtively, and finally asked, "Does he have a mate?"
"Hm?"
"Skimbleshanks! Does he have a mate?"
Jemima gave Jessedandle a really weird look and said, "Yeah, Jennyanydots."
"Darn."
Fearing what the answer might be, Jemima hesitantly inquired, "Why do you ask?"
"Tugger's nothing compared to that Skimbleshanks guy! Could we start a Skimble fanclub? Pretty, please, Jem?"
Jemima rolled her eyes and groaned as she headed back to her place, Jessedandle in tow, still asking millions of questions about her new tom-crush.
Now that all of the uninvited guests were gone, Skimble could finally stretch out on his bean-bag and settle down for a nap. It was amazing, he thought to himself, how much one forgets about regular, everyday life while one is out on a train. On a train, one can just put up a sign on his compartment door, and not be disturbed for the rest of the night. Not so in the junkyard, not by a long-shot.
Unfortunately for Skimble's nap, his point was soon proven.
knock-knock
Skimble sat up in disgust. This was not turning out to be nearly as relaxing of a day as he had hoped it would be. However, he did get up and answer the door.
Upon opening it, Skimble found a very confused and distraught-looking Munkustrap sitting on his doorstep. "Hello Munkustrap," Skimble said slowly, trying to cover up the agitation in his voice. "Nice to see you."
"Skimble, you absolutely have got to help me," Munkustrap started out. "You won't believe what happened! It's just that –"
"Oh, ah, Munkustrap," Skimble interrupted, "You actually came at quite a bad time. You see, I've only just gotten back from the station, and I was just settling down for a –"
"Oh, this won't take a second, Skimble, I just need your advice on something real quick," Munkustrap retorted, while he unconsciously let himself in.
Finding himself unable to prevent what was about to ensue, Skimble reluctantly permitted Munkustrap to come inside his humble abode. "Now what can I do for you, Straps, m'boy," he asked when they were both seated.
"It's Demeter, you see, Skimble," Munkustrap began. "She's been acting crazy, and I can't figure why! It all started last week when I went over to see her. I hadn't seen her in a little while, you see, because I had been helping Old Deuteronomy again with his lists of eligibility for Heavyside entrance A/N: What? You thought he chose on a whim?. So I got to her den, but before I could open the door, she came out, saw me, went back in, slammed the door, and locked it behind her! Completely unprovoked, too! I can't imagine what got into her. Wait, it gets worse. The next day, I tried to go and talk to her, but practically the same thing happened. Only this time, she threw a human calendar out the door before she slammed it! The the day after, when I tried to go talk to her a third time, she did the same thing again, only this time she threw out a set of small candles in weird colors! I still can't imagine what's gotten into her! Skimble, what's wrong with me?"
Skimble spent the next hour explaining to the dense tom that he had forgotten Demeter's birthday.
Once Munkustrap had been enlightened and shown out, Skimble literally sank with relief. That was it. He was not going to open the door anymore. He would just tell anyone who came that it was a bad time, from inside the den, without opening the door. Relieved at his new resolution, Skimble got up on the spot to go and lock to the door. But as soon as he had turned his back to that wooden harbinger of doom, he heard that dreaded sound.
knock-knock
"Who is it?" Skimble loathly called.
"It's Jellylorum! Skimble, PLEASE let me in! I absolutely NEED your help!"
Skimble stood firm in his resolve. "I'm sorry, Jelly, m'girl, but you're going to have to wait until tomorrow. I've just gotten back from the station, and I'm very much in need of a - "
"But Skimble, my house is on fire!"
Oh, #$&.
Skimble was suddenly filled with alarm. While his subconscious pleaded with him to just stay at home and take a nap, he couldn't really stand by and let Jellylorum's house burn to the ground, could he? No he couldn't. A second later found the door opened and the two cats rushing to the scene of the incident.
When they got to Jelly's place, they found a bucket brigade already started. Skimble joined the line without hesitation, and after about half an hour of hard work passing buckets of water and sand down the line, the fire that had engulfed Jellylorum's den was finally out. As the cats who'd come to the rescue dispersed, Skimble, still panting, managed to ask, "Jelly, what happened to cause such a blaze? I've never seen anything in the junkyard catch fire like that!"
Jellylorum wavered before replying, "Well, um, it was just, you see, Skimble ... oh, what's the use?" She threw up her arms. "I'll just tell you. But you have to promise not to tell Jennyanydots!" Skimble nodded solemnly, and Jelly continued: "It's just that I was trying to cook. You know, real cooking, like Jenny does. And I thought I had everything going right, but Jenny didn't tell me that if you let the fire keep burning after the food is done, it doesn't stop burning..." she trailed off with a pleading look at Skimble.
Skimble sighed heavily, and said, "All right, I won't tell Jenny." Jellylorum squealed, and ran off in another direction, if only to prevent herself from having to clean up the remains of her house. Skimble sighed once more, and trudged back to his own den.
"What a day this has been," he muttered, and plopped down on his bean-bag for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. If only people would just let him sleep.
It seemed that that would never be the case.
knock-knock
Skimble was strongly tempted to call out, "GO AWAY," but then he remembered the incident with Jellylorum. It was possible that whoever was out there really needed his help. It wouldn't really be fair of him to tell whoever was there to go away before he even knew who it was. After a minute of internal debate, Skimble finally got up and answered the door.
Outside, he found Pouncival on his doorstep, with a human sock over each ear and a giant grin on his face. Pounce proudly called out, "Is this right, Skimble?!"
That was all the tomkit could get out before the door was promptly shut in his face.
That's it! Skimble thought to himself. I'm just not going to answer the door at all anymore today! Whoever comes can wait until tomorrow! I need a nap!
knock-knock
Ah, the perfect time to practice his determination.
"GO AWAY!"
"But Skimble - "
"NO, I said, GO AWAY!"
"Skimble, I'm - "
"GO AWAY!"
"Fine, then. We'll just see who'll make mouse-cakes for you, now, Skimble!" Whoever had been there had apparently gone away in a huff, because Skimble heard an "argh!" of frustration and no more from the unknown cat who disturbed his much-deserved nap.
Skimble chuckled to himself at how firm he had been. He had really done the right thing, and he knew it. He really needed this nap. Besides, what did he need mouse-cakes for, any–
gasp!
MOUSE-CAKES?!
"JENNY!" Skimble called as he dashed out the door and caught his mate just as she was leaving. "Jenny I'm so sorry!" he called after her, and ran up to her and embraced her to the point where she couldn't breathe, much less protest the manner she was being held in. "Jenny, if you only knew the kind of day I've been having! Really, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say that to you!"
Jennyanydots, completely taken by surprise, managed to get out, "Oh, well, uh, Skimble? Dear? Um, I suppose that's all right?" She looked questioningly up at him, utterly confused.
"Thank you, Jenny, ol' girl!" Skimble cried out, and finding a strength that he had not felt since he was a strapping young tom, he managed to lift her off her feet and take her back into the den. There, he plopped her down in his bean-bag and knelt at her feet. "Thank you so much, Jenny!" he cried for the world to hear.
Jennyanydots, who was still utterly confused, uttered, "Well, um, Skimble, it's all right; but what made you act that way when I knocked on the door?"
Skimble, completely taken aback, shuddered, and whispered, "Jenny, you really don't want to know."
End.
A/N: Before people ask again, yes, this is one of my older stories.