Sorry this one's so late, I got sick over the holidays and it made revision a slow process. And I wrote even more so instead of a two-shot this'll just be a short 3 chapter fic. The next part will come much quicker as it's already finished.

Thank you Bombafan! Yes it's essentially a cross between the two.

Just felt the need to give a slight warning for some very mild slash in this part involving Misto, but I shan't give away who the other tom thrown into the mix is, tis a surprise. Nothing major though, it's mostly just discussion of it.

"Wait, hold on!" Asparagus shouted over the overlapping voices. "What about the Waltz?"

"It's still on," Munkustrap told him. "I just can't be a part of it now."

"But you're the narrator," said Tumblebrutus. "We can't do it without you."

"He's right Munk," Tugger jumped in. "You have cue lines for nearly every character role. And monologues that transition several scenes. You tie it all together. We can't have a Waltz without the narrator."

"Well...alright, you have a point." Munkustrap glanced around the room. "Have someone fill in for me then."

"Anyone else know all of Munk's lines by heart?" Tugger shouted.

His question was met with apologetic stares and head shakes.

"There you have it," sighed Tugger.

"I'm sorry," said Munkustrap. "I truly am. I honestly don't what to tell you all...but I can't do it. I need to take care of Demeter."

"This is a far more important matter," said Jellylorum. "We understand, go be with her." Several others nodded encouragingly.

"So, are we calling it off then?" Victoria asked.

Munkustrap bit his lip. "I'm afraid so yes. We'll have to cancel."

"No!" Demeter cried. "You can't!"

"I will not leave you to go through this alone," he said, unwavering. "I'm going to be there for the birth and that's final."

"Well, have it right after they're born then," she reasoned.

"I'm not sure that would be best either," said Jenny. "Kits can take hours to be born and once they are you're going to want to get them home so they're settled in right away."

"And the gala will be over by then anyway," Tugger said. "If it takes hours." In a few hours it would be sunrise and sunrise always marked the conclusion of the gala.

"But...but no...I," Demeter stammered. "You can't, I—"

"We'll not have you fret over this now," Jenny said to her, ushering the tabby holding her away. "Worry about all this later. We have a family emergency to attend to. Now off we go dears. Hurry now. Bomba, you too. The rest of you stay put out here if you'd be so kind."

"Right this way," Devereaux called, leading the four out and own the passageway flanked by stalls. The sound of light whinnying alerted the Jellicles that horses were occupying one or two of them.

"Here we are," the farm cat stated once they reached a vacant stall set apart from all the others. "This one hasn't been set foot or hoof in for months now," he informed them, ducking under the gate's lowermost rail. "It's only used for livestock that are tending to young, but the livestock aren't currently having any young." He gave the couple a smile as the protector crouched down, Demeter still in his arms, and maneuvered under the gate and into the massive stall, Jenny and Bombalurina following close behind. "But you my young queen," said the calico, gesturing to Demeter. "You seem to fit the bill, hm?"

The four Jellicles assessed their surroundings. At the very least, the stall was isolated and warm.

"Not so bad in here," Munkustrap said, trying to lighten the mood a bit and calm his mate. And Demeter, well, she was just relieved to be away from obtrusive stares. She responded by nodding but made no verbal reply.

"Oh allow me," Devereaux said to Jenny, offering his paw and pulling her through. He put on his best charming smile, his gaze discreetly roaming over her figure. My, she's certainly easy on the eyes for a cat her age, he thought. Sure be nice to have a queen like her around the farm.

"How kind of you," said Jenny. "Thank you, ah, Devereaux, was it?"

"Yes, and I'm afraid I never caught your name."

"Jennyanydots." She gingerly shook his paw. "It's a pleasure."

"Indeed it is, he said. "That's quite a fine name, Jennyanydots. A lovely name fitting of a lovely queen."

"Ahem."

The two jumped and turned to see Skimble standing behind them. He adjusted his vest, displaying a tight smile.

"Oh! And this is Skimbleshanks, my mate," Jenny added, hugging the orange tabby from the side.

Skimble gave the calico a hearty pawshake. "How do ya do?"

Devereaux was noticeably disappointed at finding out the pretty older queen had a mate. "Fine fine…yes. You?"

"Swell, thank you," Skimble answered, his arm curved protectively around Jenny's back.

Munkustrap offered an expression of deep gratitude to the farm cat. "Thank you Devereaux, for your hospitality."

"My pleasure," Devereaux replied. "I suppose congratulations are in order for you two." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I'll uh…just be out with the others then." The farm cat ambled off, mumbling to himself about how unusual this Christmas was already turning out to be. Cats throwing holiday parties where they all danced and dressed up in costumes, one of them having kittens in his owner's barn. What next?

"Come come darling," Jenny said to Munkustrap, motioning him forward. "Set her down right here, let her get comfortable."

The striped tom gently placed Demeter down in the hay, positioning her so that she was sitting up halfway. The hay was more scratchy than soft and provided a bit of discomfort, but as it wasn't her nature to complain, Demeter said nothing about it.

It was almost eerie, how in tune Munkustrap was with her, picking up right away on this. He knelt down beside her and gave her a loving nuzzle. "She needs a blanket to lie on. This hay can't be comfortable."

"It's alright Munk," she interjected quietly. "Really, it's not that bad."

The tabby shook his head. "You need a blanket of some kind. Surely there's one around here somewhere."

"But—"

"Munk's right dear," said Jenny. "Just sit tight, we'll have you all fixed up here shortly." The older queen rose to her feet, poking her head over the stall gate. "Skimble!"

Skimble was standing over by the stall area entryway, guarding it to give Demeter the privacy she needed, and making sure no nosy cats barged in. At the sound of Jenny's voice, the orange tabby's ears perked, and he sprinted over. "Yes?"

"Tell the others that we need a blanket. Two or three, preferably."

He complied and disappeared around the corner. A few minutes passed, and Skimble returned with the cat burglar siblings. Rumpleteazer rushed in carrying two of the desired items, her brother stumbling after with what appeared to be a thick quilt.

"Here ya go," Rumpleteazer said as she proudly held the blankets out to Jenny. "Found 'em up in the loft. They look a little faded, and shabby, but they do feel awful soft."

"Those will do fine you two, thank you," Munkustrap said. "Jerrie, will you help me lift her so we can spread the quilt out?"

Mungojerrie nodded. "Yea, sure thing."

The two toms carefully picked her up while Rumpleteazer and Bombalurina laid the thick quilt out for her, rolling one blanket up so she could use it as makeshift pillow. After carefully setting her down on the quilt, they draped the thinner blanket over her lower body.

"Does that feel better, love?" Munkustrap asked.

Her answer came in the form of a deep sigh of relief coupled with her nodding to them as she eased herself down the rest of the way, resting on the inviting fabric.

Her instance of relaxation didn't last long, and soon, her entire body tensed at the pain of another contraction. Her claws sunk into the quilt. She gasped out and whimpered, her face contorted in agony, while Munkustrap hovered over her worriedly.

Mungojerrie gawked at the laboring queen, looking as though the sight of her hissing in pain frightened him.

Rumpleteazer smacked her brother hard on the shoulder. "Don't stare Jerrie, that's rude!" she scolded in a harsh whisper.

He rubbed the spot on his arm she'd hit, glaring down at her. "Oww!" he mouthed.

Rumpleteazer huffed and began pushing him back toward the main area of the barn. "C'mon, we shouldn't be here right now, let's go wait with the others."

After the two feline thieves had left, Demeter felt more at ease, the only ones here being the three cats closest to her. This made suffering through the contraction more bearable. Even so, that didn't change the fact that it was the worst pain she'd ever experienced. No amount of discussions with the older queens regarding what to expect could prepare her for anguish like this.

She moaned breathily, and her mate tenderly caressed the side of her face, murmuring words loud enough that only she could hear, his lips pressed to her forehead. When the pain reached its highest peak, Demeter cried out, trembling as she dug her claws into Munkustrap's forearm. Meanwhile, Bombalurina was sitting to her other side, stroking her paw to help soothe her along, and Jenny checked to see how she was progressing.

The contraction ebbed away slowly, and when it ended, Demeter retracted her claws. Breathing in deep even breaths, she slumped against the silver tabby's frame.

"Nothing so far," Jenny informed them while smoothing the blanket back out. "But I'm fairly certain when the next one hits, we just might be ready to greet a kit."

Demeter was staring at Munkustrap's arm. "Did…did I hurt you just now?" she asked him in a timid voice.

"Hm? Oh, no, no I'm fine," he answered.

She saw past the white lie and lifted a shaky paw so she could sift through his arm fur, revealing two small marks, fresh blood visible on the exposed flesh.

"I did hurt you," she whispered.

He waved his paw dismissively. "Just a little puncture wound, I promise I barely felt a thing." He leaned down and groomed her face affectionately. "You scratch me up all you need to, if it helps you along."

"Munk's tough," the scarlet queen teased. "He's had to deal with much worse. Like just last week, when he was choreographing the fight between the Rat King and the Pollicle Prince. Tugger swung his leg over and Munk was supposed to duck beneath it, but he didn't swing high enough. And then, wham! His foot smashed right into Munk's face. Ended up giving the poor thing a bloody nose."

"Goodness me!" Jenny exclaimed, her fingers to her lips.

"It was an accident of course," Munkustrap explained. "But I can't shake the feeling that it was something that could've been prevented, had he been concentrating on what he was doing instead of teasingly showing off for his little admirers."

Bombalurina stifled a laugh and chose not to comment on this, as she had been one of the admirers present he spoke of.

"Perhaps it's a good thing the performance was called off," Jenny decided. "Wouldn't want our Tugger dear to accidentally injure Asparagus too."

Demeter's ears suddenly flattened against her head. She pressed her lips together tightly, to try and keep it from happening, but within seconds, she burst into tears, startling the other three.

Silver paws flew to her face. "Demeter! Demeter, sweetheart, what's the matter? Are you in pain again?"

She shook her head and sobbed brokenly, tears dampening her cheeks, tears that were quickly wiped away by Munkustrap's thumbs.

"Is this about the incident with Tugger?" the tabby asked in a frantic tone. "Because I can assure you I'm fine now. Nose might still be a little bruised but that's all!"

"I-I…I-I'm so s-sorr-ry," she sobbed. "I-I ruined e-everythi-ing."

"What?" the others chorused.

She had her mate and the two queens utterly befuddled at this point.

Demeter sniffled. "It's my fault that the p-performance w…was called off. And everyone worked s-s-so hard on it, dancing an-and memorizing lines and al-all the hours Jelly put into th-the costume alterations an-and…" She whimpered and broke down into another round of pitiful sobs. "Everyone must h-hate me."

"Deme," Bombalurina murmured, pushing a strand of head fur off her forehead, which was now matted with sweat. "No one hates you. This isn't exactly something you could control."

"But it's tradition Bomba!" Demeter wept. "We have the performance every year, and Munk…" Her eyes met the tabby's and her lips quivered uncontrollably. "You worked yourself to death over preparations a-and rehearsals. And your father, he looks forward to this every Christmas and now what? Nothing to sh-show for all you've done, nothing to present to your father. H-Heaviside only knows how disappointed he is, h-how disappointed everyone is…all because of m...me."

"No, you're wrong," Munkustrap told her. "You couldn't be more wrong. He has something far batter than a performance to look forward to. He gets to meet his grand-kittens tonight!"

She groaned feebly in disagreement and looked away.

Cupping her cheeks, his forehead met hers, and the two locked eyes.

"Demeter, listen to me," Munkustrap said. "No one blames you for this. I know the kittens coming the night of the gala wasn't exactly part of the plan, and neither was you giving birth in a barn...but things don't always go as planned. And that's ok. Everything's going to be fine. Now I want you to forget about the Waltz, toss any worries you have about it aside. It's not a main concern of mine any longer. The only thing on my mind is keeping you relaxed and comfortable. And the only thing I want you to focus on is having these kittens. Alright?"

"Yes dearie, for the sake of your wellbeing and the wellbeing of your litter, it's vital you stay as relaxed as you possibly can," Jenny reminded her, gently patting her knee. "Complications during labor are more likely when the mother is stressed."

"You have nothing to worry about Deme. Everyone will be so wrapped up in seeing the kittens that they will have forgotten all about the Waltz anyway," Bombalurina added in an effort to comfort her. "Trust me."

Demeter sniffed and scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her paw. "You're right." She shrugged feebly and forced a hoarse laugh. "I know they'll be talking about this one for years to come…but I suppose that doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing."

Munkustrap nuzzled her cheek, grinning. "That's my Deme," he crooned.

The subsequent contractions left Demeter in pure misery, but the cats she considered family by her side helped her through it. And in the midst of her suffering panting and pushing, it took her a moment to register that her first kit had arrived. Only when her eyes fly open to excited squeals and coos did she realize. Jenny brought the squirming kitten close to her face so she could clean it, and Demeter leaned over as best she could, getting a good look at her firstborn for the very first time.

It was a tabby queen, her coat adorned in black and silver, stripes visible on her incredibly tiny body.

"Everlasting," Demeter breathed, reaching out to touch her with a trembling paw, a euphoric feeling washing over her. Once the little newborn was all cleaned up, its umbilical cord severed, Jenny placed the kit on her mother's chest. Demeter weakly lifted her head, smiling up at her mate. He was frozen where he knelt, wide teary eyes glued to the mewling kit.

"Munkus dear, why, she's the spitting image of you!" Jenny declared, gently picking the kitten back up, Demeter's fingers lingering after her.

"Ready to meet your father?" Jenny held the kitten out to him, and he immediately took her, cradling her securely against his chest, her little head nestled in his palm. When she yawned and pawed at his chest fur, he choked back a sob, tears trailing down his cheeks. "Oh Deme she's gorgeous," he said in a broken voice.

"You're only saying that 'cause she looks like you," Bombalurina said, which made them all laugh.

Munkustrap beamed with fatherly pride as he held his daughter, nuzzling her and dotting tiny kisses atop her head. She grunted and buried her face in his warm fur as he slid his fingers along her velvety coat, never once taking his eyes off her. To think that the love he shared with his mate could create something so beautiful was something he was still trying to wrap his head around. The newborn hadn't been in the world more than five minutes and already she had the protector spellbound.

He leaned down so Demeter could groom her face. "Something tells me this one will want to grow up to be like her father," she cooed.

"I wonder whose eye color she inherited," mused the scarlet queen, smiling at the tabby kit, the little one's eyes sealed shut.

"We'll find out soon enough," Jenny said in a singsong voice. "Demeter dear, rest while you can."

She nodded, readying herself to brave another contraction, knowing in the end, it would all be worth any pain endured.

[]

The couple had requested no one else come in to disturb their little group during the birth, and since Bombalurina was included in this group and not out with the other Jellicles, this meant Tugger no longer had someone to keep him company while they all waited. Not that finding company was difficult for him, that is.

On the other side of the barn he'd spotted Mistoffelees, sitting to one side of a crate, using it like a table as he primly sipped from a teacup. The magical cat had been acting off all evening. At least that's how Tugger perceived it. He'd participated in the group dances, but for the most part he'd kept to himself all night, this gloomy frown darkening his features. It had Tugger wondering if something had been bothering him.

Mistoffelees was sitting alone, as he preferred, but that was about to change. A smirk plastered on his muzzle, Tugger strolled right over.

"This seat taken, Stockings?" came his suave voice.

Mistoffelees directed a glare at the smirking Maine Coon, who was drumming his claws on the crate as he awaited approval from his friend.

"If you plan on continuing to refer to me as anything other than 'Mistoffelees', then yes, it's taken," the tux said coolly.

"Awww c'mon now, I can't even call you Misto?" Tugger asked, pulling off his best kitten-eyed pout.

Exhaling in a sigh, Mistoffelees managed a smile. "Alright alright, I suppose I can handle Misto." He chuckled, nodding to the open spot on the other side of the crate. "You may sit," he permitted.

"Thank you kindly." Tugger did just that. And after fluffing out his mane to his liking, he reached over and took the tuxedo tom's teacup from him.

"Wha-hey!" said Mistoffelees as the maned cat sniffed at his cold milk. "What are you—"

"This smells peculiar, but pleasant all the same. What's in it?" wondered Tugger, curiously lapping at it.

"It's cinnamon, Jenny mixes it in with her milk and I wanted to give it a try. Now can I have it back please?"

"I like it," Tugger decided, raising the teacup to his mouth and taking a sip.

"T-Tugger! That's mine!" Mistoffelees protested, his voice almost whiny sounding.

Tugger grinned impishly at his friend. "Not anymore it's not." And with that he downed the rest of the milk. Mistoffelees could only gawk at Tugger as he drank every last drop. He then set the empty teacup down while licking his lips in satisfaction.

"You're such an oaf," the magician muttered, glowering at the taller tom.

Tugger reached over and tapped Mistoffelees on his nose, the other tom's angry glower only fueling his ribbing. "Ahh sticks and stones, Misto."

Mistoffelees was quick to slap the other's paw away, crossing his arms with a frown. "Is that the only reason you came over? To steal my milk?"

"Of course not," Tugger said, his answer coated in light laughter. He ruffled the tux's head fur. "That was just a bonus! But no, I came to see how you were doing, you don't seem to be acting like yourself tonight, and I happened to pick up on that. You seem…I dunno…gloomy, almost. Is something wrong?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Tug, but thanks for your concern." Mistoffelees shrugged. "I mean, I was a tad anxious about the group number but now that we won't be putting the performance on, I'm swell. I mean...not that I wasn't looking forward to the Waltz; it's just that, well, this is the first year I wouldn't be playing a village cat and I was really nervous."

"Mm, shame really," Tugger remarked. "You looked so adorable in your songbird costume too."

"Shut it." Mistoffelees smirked, tracing a claw around the now empty china cup. "The number calls for seven songbirds and Munk said he didn't have another queen capable of the complex ballet moves involved. Vic played one of them last year but she obviously couldn't this time. So I took on that role."

Tugger nodded, glancing over at Victoria, snuggled up in Plato's embrace over by the farmer's work table. "Little Miss Persian was looking mighty gorgeous in that orange gown of hers. So what if it's a human thing, she pulled it off well. Our Tori's certainly matured and come into her own."

"Everlasting Cat, Tugger," sighed the conjurer, throwing him a deadpan look. "Can't you just stick to liking one queen at a time?"

"Hey," said Tugger. "Being truly interested in someone and merely admiring someone for all their physical attributes is completely different. Bombshell is the only Jellicle I have genuine interest in, on a deeper level than just casual flirting. Bomba's not just any queen, she's my queen, and she knows that."

"So, things are finally getting serious between you two now, I take it? Serious enough to possibly consider becoming mates soon?"

He nodded, giving the tuxedo tom a serious look, one that was seldom used by the normally flippant Rum Tum Tugger. "We're going slow, but moving in that direction, yes."

"Tugger, good for you! That's fantastic!" Mistoffelees congratulated. "It's about time you settled down."

"Well, we're not there yet. I'm not exactly ready to seal the deal and become mates tonight or anything. But we will be spending Christmas day together. The entire day, in fact, inside my den, breaking in my new blankets I just got. Showing her what these hips are really capable of—"

Mistoffelees held a paw up for him to stop. "Ok ok ok, spare me the details, please."

Tugger grinned in return, deciding to tone down his immaturity for a moment. "I did promise to spend Christmas with her though, and I intend to keep that promise. Take her to the city and see the lights with her, go out and fetch some cream, whatever she wants. Everyone deserves to be in the arms of another this time of year." He raised a claw and pointed it at the magician's face. "But even if I am with Bombshell, that doesn't mean I can't find your sister appealing." His eyes wandered back over to Victoria, who blushed and giggled as Plato whispered something in her ear. "Very, very appealing."

With a grin and a shake of his head, Mistoffelees lightly shoved his friend. "Well even so, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't speak of her that way in my presence. Think you can manage that?"

"I will try my very hardest," Tugger replied, folding his arms on the crate. "So, now that you've ever so cleverly attempted to avoid my original question, let's get back to it, shall we? What's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter," he mumbled, becoming noticeably uncomfortable again, shifting where he sat facing the Maine Coon.

"I know when something's bothering you Misto, I have a sixth sense about things like this."

"Yea well, this supposed sixth sense of yours must be acting up is all I can tell you." He pretended to focus on the crate's wooden surface. "Because I'm perfectly fine."

Tugger took hold of his wrist, making Mistoffelees look at him. "Did someone offend you? Pick on you? I'll give 'em a good scratch or two, tell 'em to back off."

"Thank you, but no, it's nothing like that."

"But it is something." Tugger was determined to solve this little mystery. "Are you moping because you wanted to play the Prince?"

"No."

"Having trouble with a trick?"

"No, Tugger…"

"Well what is it?" he demanded.

"Look I told you, it's nothing!" Mistoffelees hissed, unable to mask the hostility in his hushed voice. He calmed himself right after, running a paw through the fur sticking out between his ears. "I-I'm sorry, but can we please just drop it already?"

Tugger held both paws up in surrender. "Alright, fine, I'm sorry." His friend was clearly unnerved about something, whether he would admit to it or not, and Tugger's boundless curiosity wouldn't be sated until he knew what it was. It wasn't worth upsetting Mistoffelees even more though. So to keep the peace, Tugger changed the subject.

"Ya like my collar Misto?" He smoothed his mane out so the jewel-encrusted collar was more visible, the emeralds on it shimmering.

"Isn't that part of your Rat King ensemble?" the tux asked him.

"Yea, the only part of that hideous costume that actually flatters me. Jemmy says it really brings out my eyes. I'm not too sure. What do you think?"

Mistoffelees nodded absentmindedly, looking out at the multiple groups of conversing Jellicles. "Mhm," he answered, fixated on one in particular. "Yes it looks nice."

A black ear flicked at the sound of a quiet huff, and he turned to look at a very deflated Maine Coon, his ears folded down in a way that almost made Mistoffelees snicker.

"Just nice?" Tugger mumbled, frowning.

The magical tom's eyebrows rose slightly. "Oh…oh I'm sorry, were you hoping for a more generous compliment one of your fan-cats might give? My apologies." Mistoffelees cleared his throat and took hold of Tugger's paws, giving him his best smitten smile, complete with a starry-eyed gaze. "Ohhh Tuggy! I love that collar on you. It sparkles almost as much as your eyes do. You look so unbelievably gorgeous in it…not that you don't always look unbelievably gorgeous, I mean. 'Cause you do. Always." He tried to make his giggle sound as convincing as possible. Sighing longingly, he leaned in, batting his lashes once to add to the lovesick charade.

Tugger's grin was as wide as his jaw would allow. "That's better."

About this time, another cat made his way over to approach the two, and when Mistoffelees noticed him standing there, his eyes grew wide and he jolted upright, leaning away from Tugger as if suddenly repulsed by the Maine Coon.

Tugger shot the tux a sideways glance, and directed his attention to the patched tom who had walked up. "Hello, Alonzo."

Alonzo smiled. "Evening, Tugger," he greeted, nodding to Mistoffelees and offering a smile to him as well. "Mistoffelees."

"Hello," the tux answered back in his characteristically meek voice.

Alonzo turned back to Tugger. "I'm liking the collar, it suits you."

"Ah well thank you!" Tugger replied, basking in the attention. "Mistoffelees and I were just talking about it actually, weren't we Two-Tone?"

Mistoffelees silently nodded.

"Well that being said, I'm afraid you'll have to relinquish it to me, Your Majesty," Alonzo said jokingly. He gestured to the older queen sitting in one corner gathering up all the costumes and storing them in boxes. "Jellylorum asked me to fetch it from you so she could put it with the rest of the props and accessories."

Tugger clutched the collar, a subdued whine of dismay escaping his lips. "I was hoping she wouldn't notice it was gone, so I could keep it for myself."

"You know nothing gets past Jelly. And you're daft if you think she wouldn't notice that bulky thing hanging around your neck sooner or later anyway," Alonzo reminded him.

"True," the maned tom surrendered with a sigh. "Alright, if I must." He unlatched the heavy collar and gave it to Alonzo.

"Sorry Tugger, you know I don't make the rules." Alonzo gave both he and Mistoffelees another cordial smile, then pivoted gracefully and left.

Tugger watched the patched tom walk away with his beloved collar before turning back to face Mistoffelees. He opened his mouth to say something, when he noticed the tuxedo cat's azure eyes, still following the other black and white cat. He seemed to have forgotten that Tugger was even there as he stared off in the distance, over his shoulder.

That's when it clicked in Tugger's mind. With a knowing grin, he put a paw to his chin. "Ohhhhh, now I see."

The magician's head whipped up. "What? See what?"

"You've got a thing for Patches!"

Mistoffelees dropped his head, hoping the action hid his blush somehow, and summoned his magic as he levitated the teacup. "Tugger I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"I can't believe I never picked up on it before."

"Look, I do not, as you so eloquently put it, have 'a thing' for Alonzo. We're strictly friends."

"Truthfully I already knew, Tori told me a week ago about your little crush. I was just waiting on you to say something."

Mistoffelees looked horrified. "She told you?" he squeaked. The once airborne teacup fell to the floor in a clatter.

"No," Tugger said smugly, crossing his arms. "I was bluffing. But you just confirmed it for me yourself."

Mistoffelees gave a lengthy groan and bashed his head against the crate. "I despise you, you know that?"

"Calm down," Tugger chuckled. "Relax, why are you so worked up about this? So you like Alonzo? So what? Why's that so horrible?"

"Because I'm almost totally certain that he's interested in Cassandra. And I'm terrified of him finding out, because one: he could reject me, and two: it could then cause an awkward strain in our friendship. I'd like to avoid both at all costs."

Tugger hummed, tapping a claw to his chin. "Want me to talk to him for you?" he offered.

Mistoffelees gaped at the other tom in wide-eyed disbelief. "Did you listen to a single word I just said?"

"Yes, but telling him could help. Say he finds out, if it turns out he's not interested, how will things be any different than they are now for you?"

"Uh, well for starters, I'll be devastated and probably won't ever be able to face him again. And I'll never be able to entertain the idea of being with him at all, because then I won't be able to even hold onto hope that it could be a reality."

"I think there's a pretty good chance he likes you too though."

"What in Heaviside would give you that idea?"

"Just a feeling. I've caught him making eyes at you before." He flashed a devious grin as a funny thought crossed his mind. "Hey Misto, just think, if you two do happen to get together and become mates one day, and someone walks in on you while you're all tangled up together during the steamy act, they won't be able to discern who is who at first. You know, since it's black and white on black and white."

"Tugger!" Mistoffelees cried, his cheeks burning up with a blush of at least three different shades of red. He reached over and smacked the Maine Coon on his shoulder.

"Easy!" Tugger laughed and rubbed at his shoulder. "Seriously, if you want me to talk to him for you—"

"Please don't," the tux implored, grabbing a spotted paw. "Please? I'll tell him myself when I can muster up the courage, like tomorrow, or next week…or never. But please don't breathe a word of this, to him or anyone else. Promise me you won't. Promise me!"

Tugger chewed his lower lip for a moment. "I can promise that I'll try very hard not to say anything about it..."

Mistoffelees wasn't above getting on his knees and outright begging Tugger to keep his mouth shut, but before he had the chance to say anything more, Skimbleshanks appeared at the entrance to the stall area.

"The kittens are here," he announced. "And I'm happy to report that all four, and their mother, are doing just fine. If anyone would like to, you may go see them now."

The concluding part will be up very soon! And it's chock-full of fluff. As if this whole thing wasn't one big fluff cluster already...eheh. As always, thanks for reading!