Well I'm back and whatnot :P Been hoarding my stuff for a while now because I could. Writing a lot for Delphicoracle-Cat and having fun swapping ideas on how to make our favourite toms angsty and miserable (in a loving way, of course)
This story is finished and over 20-something pages long (kinda long for a oneshot, methinks) and it took me forEVER to write because I like to procrastinate and overindulge my detail-obsessed self :P Plus I've been keeping busy at University now so I have an excuse to slack ;)
"...Shut up! There isn't a single queen in all of London who wouldn't roll over for a shot with the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees now. Maybe my fame is rubbing off on you; there are a lot of celebrities who have nothing going for them but hot-shot friends, you know."
Shuffling awkwardly through the snow beside him, Mistoffelees bowed his head with an impish grin. "I doubt that, Tug, but thanks anyway. Besides, I'm not really looking for a queen right now." Nearly tripping over a crater of frozen snow, the younger tux huffed when his paw caught a patch of ice and stumbled face first into a mound of powder.
The Rum Tum Tugger chuckled and, a little too pointedly, replied, "Don't I know it." Mistoffelees shot him a seething glare to which his comrade simply winked and turned to their audience: a peeved looking tabby with enough road salt coating his fur to season a fully grown cow.
Walking just ahead of them for the past half hour (behind them for an hour before that), Munkustrap sighed at the slow progress they'd been making. If you could call it progress. He caught the coon's eye and frowned, glancing worriedly up at the darkening sky. Was London expecting snow?
"I think this is far enough, Tugger." The Coon, who so dutifully swatted the snow from his friend's fur, nodded before a rascally side glance threatened to rein him out right where he stood. "You trying to get rid of me already, Munk?"
Panting softly, Mistoffelees spoke, "Aren't we close enough to your home now, anyway? Surely those alley cats won't have the nerve to travel this far." He made to sit back onto his haunches but sprung back up with a displeased grimace at the icy slush pooling around their paws. "Especially not in these conditions."
The flirt's playful grin faltered a moment, blinking slowly a couple times before nonchalantly running his claws through his mane. "Would you travel out here after me if I had shagged Victoria?"
"Okay!" Mistoffelees barked, shuddering visibly at the thought. "You need to stop going after queens with really temperamental family, Tug. I'll help you this once, but you seriously need help!"
"You have a problem," Munkustrap hissed.
Tugger shrugged, chuckling at his comrades' shock. "Hey, I'm only picking up your slack! There are too many needy honeys out there since you two unappreciative, barmy prudes refuse to get off your lazy arses!" With a good-natured nudge to his brother's flank, he pushed past the two to lead the troupe anew.
Sooner or later the trio found themselves closing in on the decomposed brick dwelling Tugger's humans had deemed 'home' with the hopes of completing countless renovations that never started. They leaped over the garden wall and, with some hesitation, into a whiteout of a yard. The snow was so deep it swallowed Munkustrap and Tugger whole without a second thought; Mistoffelees, however, managed to land on all fours (as cats tend to do) on the thin crest of the snow bank, letting out an great sigh of relief and a smug smile as the others were nowhere to be seen.
Don't worry! The Rum Tum Tugger has never failed to let his presence be known, so he wasn't lost for long. "Mistoffelees!" Tugger shrieked dramatically. "You cheating git, get your damned hide over here and help me up!"
The tux gingerly padded over to one of the craters, each step carefully tested with a nervous, glittering paw before he set his weight down for another. "I see you," he growled with a mischievous purr at the snow-coated tom clawing frantically at the crumbling edges of the caving hole.
Tail in a flutter, he lowered himself until the drifting snow glimpsed past his belly with a soft hush. In the hole a few feet beside him, the other tom grunted and huffed as he thrashed about, trying desperately to resurface.
Mistoffelees' paws tapped the ground gently, his muscles coiling to leap, his tail swishing behind him in anticipation. Bursting forth, he let out a triumphant yell as he ambushed his prey, paws making contact against Tugger's thick chest and slamming him into the snow below. The almost unrecognizable tom hollered sharply and, in the blink of an eye, shoved the tangled duo forward until Mistoffelees found himself pinned in a cloudy mist of upturned snow.
It was then, but perhaps a little too late to really matter at this point, that he realized he'd jumped the wrong brother. In a glorious battle in which he had no chance in hell of winning, Mistoffelees squirmed against the thick body straddling his waist, his heart nearly knocking his rib out his fur. "It- it's just me! Munk, it's just me!" he cried out.
Just then everything froze until there was nothing but the heavy breathing and panting between them upsetting the settling snow. Blinking up at the mostly white tabby, Mistoffelees shivered beneath him, wide eyed until the glint of teeth from Munkustrap's goofy grin was made out of the indistinct snow sculptures that clung to the fur on his face.
"I know," he chuckled finally, "I heard you coming from a mile off. No wonder you're so thin, the rats are practically being given a formal announcement!"
Beneath the laughing tom, the tux let out a huge sigh."Bastet, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"
At that the bigger tom made a show of pulling a sickeningly sad face for the tux, cooing ironically as he asked, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
Mistoffelees sniffed indignantly up at him. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank yo- EVERLASTING!" Without warning (and most certainly without permission) Munkustrap bent low and ran a sloppy, wet tongue over the space between his eyes and nose. "That's... get off of me!" With a snort of laughter Mistoffelees gently bat at the thick clumps of snow clotting the tabby's whiskers.
"Not the first time someone's told you that." The two toms glanced up from their horseplay to find the Rum Tum Tugger sprawled lazily atop the garden wall, his tail flicking off the last of the snow and a smug look on his face. His grin widened at the comical sight of the tux fanatically rubbing at his forehead, trying to rearrange the wayward-sticking fur. "Welcome to the brotherhood, Misty."
As midday turned to late afternoon, Munkustrap grew more and more agitated the longer Tugger insisted on keeping them; even Mistoffelees started picking up on his concern and every now and then watched Munkustrap peer up at the sky with growing concern from his place by the groaning, sputtering radiator. Eventually Tugger gave up trying to hold a conversation and released his guests with a gentle nuzzle out the back door.
When Mistoffelees had started ahead, awaiting Munkustrap on the garden wall, Tugger pulled the tabby aside. "Keep an eye on him, will you? It's his first winter outside, and I'm afraid he's not..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Not quite..."
Munkustrap understood what Tugger was trying to get at: Mistoffelees was much too thin. Whereas the strays made note to put on some extra weight in the fall in anticipation for the cold, Mistoffelees hadn't gained an ounce of rich, insulating fat. Coupled with his short coat, he wasn't exactly asking for a very easy winter. "... not quite ready yet."
The tabby nodded, tossing a quick glance at the slim figure watching them patiently by the back corner of the lot. "Don't worry, I'll keep close tabs on him."
"I know you will." Nodding, Tugger pulled him into a strong hug that made the tabby blush at the thought of the tiny magician watching from his perch. Before they parted, the Coon leaned in close and said in the most serious of tones, "Now stop procrastinating and do something, you barmy twit!"
The other let out a loud, nervous chortle and shoved the younger tom off of him. "Is that your new word now?" His grin stretching clear across his face, Tugger shrugged and, with a noticeable shiver, turned to force his fluffy pelt through the tiny cat door.
It took a moment before he too realized the unusually cold weather; hopefully they'd reach the junkyard before either of them caught a chill.
Mistoffelees was no longer sitting by the time the tabby had finally joined him high over the alley that ran behind the residential lots. In another yard Munkustrap caught sight of a thin, scraggly-furred queen dragging her young one by one from a fine looking pile of logs to the glass patio door of a dark, lifeless house. She'd scratch and wail pathetically at the glass, pace the length of the deck, then return to the log shelter and bring forth another kitten to add to the others waiting in the snow. They watched helplessly as this continued indefinitely.
"She had more," Mistoffelees noted softly. He sniffed the air delicately and batted at his ear a moment. "Two of them... She took them away so the others wouldn't see." Munkustrap followed the tux's gaze to the side of the porch where two tiny bodies had been dropped haphazardly into the snow below. With a shaky sigh Mistoffelees turned to him. "Is there anything we can do? M... maybe we could bring her back with us?"
He hated to let his friend down so cruelly, but he knew there was no way they'd all make the trek. Munkustrap sighed, "No, Mistoffelees, there's nothing we can do for them. They'll have a better chance of making it they just stick nearby. But we really should get going." Gingerly he stood and nudged the tux down the alley, passing the log home as the sickly queen dragged out the last of her kits.
Unbeknownst to both of them the entire family would be completely gone before dawn.