During the Ball

the1andonlyofo, now I definitely want to see a music video starring Tugger, to the tune of "I Just Had Sex". :D HGP, thank you! Just wait, there's more. J. L. Lunar, you got that right. Tugger's not going to waste a second. And you'll see, I find that a few questions about the Ball can be answered with "sex". XD MG, thank you so much! I hope you'll keep enjoying the story.

A big thank-you to CrazyIndigoChild for beta-reading!


3. A Terrible Bore?

(This chapter takes place during "The Rum Tum Tugger". It's a tad short, as it consists mostly of Misto's musings)

"I have to wonder sometimes, lad, if it's the kittens or the Rum Tum Tugger who are the bigger handful for you."

Mistoffelees smiled wanly. Skimbleshanks was only teasing, he knew; the orange tabby had been present and active during the birth of his kittens and knew as well as anyone how responsible Tugger could be when needed. Though he had to admit Tugger was acting like a bit of a kitten tonight. Their brief mating behind the car, just a few minutes earlier, hadn't slowed him down one bit. He was dancing and flirting and making quite the spectacle of himself, bounding around so much that Mistoffelees nearly missed ducking to avoid the ball that Tugger playfully kicked in his direction. And after all the time they'd both spent yelling at the kittens not to throw their toys inside the den.

"Tugger can feed himself without making a mess, so for the moment, he's easier to handle than the little ones," Mistoffelees said in reply.

Skimble chuckled, giving him a quick, fatherly pat on the head. "For the moment, at least. I don't suppose you two are planning to add a few more kittens to the mix any time soon?"

Mistoffelees sighed. "Tugger will be sitting with Jenny at the mating dance; I suppose that should give you your answer."

Skimble chuckled again, and that seemed enough for him. It was for the better; Mistoffelees was not particularly in the mood for such discussions and this seemed like as good as any a time for him to leap from the car boot and try, as he had sternly promised Tugger a few minutes ago, to interrupt his song.

All right, so maybe Tugger wasn't a terrible bore, but it was the best he could come up with on the spot.

Naturally, it didn't slow his mate down one bit, and Mistoffelees resignedly went to sit on a pipe on the other side of the clearing, watching Tugger continue his ostentatious dancing and enjoying the young queens and toms at his feet, like the showcat he was.

Skimble had been jesting earlier, of course, but the implied question was clear: just what do you see in Tugger? It was a good thing that Mistoffelees didn't easily take offense; after nearly a full year of hearing Jellicles wonder aloud what he saw in Tugger- and wonder if they'd stayed together only because Mistoffelees had gotten unexpectedly pregnant- any other cat would have become distinctly frustrated, not to mention insulted.

Demeter had asked him, all those months ago and in the middle of a stressful situation in Macavity's captivity, what he saw in Tugger. Jenny, Jezebel and Jellylorum asked him every so often, in a tone that was supposed to imply warm teasing, as though they weren't fishing for gossip material.

Even the young queens, his close friends and otherwise Tugger's most fervent admirers, had asked him the question, as though Tugger was fine for a queen to sigh and fawn over, but not to actually want as a mate- and it seemed to Mistoffelees that even Bombalurina was starting to share this opinion these days, though it clearly wasn't stopping her from trying her charms on Tugger once again, if only to demonstrate that she could. How brazen, Mistoffelees huffed to himself, watching as she sidled up and draped herself all over his mate.

Mistoffelees tried not to smirk when Tugger playfully bumped her aside time and again until she finally met the ground. Even Tugger's rejections came with flair.

So what did he see in Tugger? It wasn't that Mistoffelees didn't understand the questioning, really. Granted, everyone in the tribe loved Tugger to some extent—the queens responded positively to his unrepentant feline masculinity, as did some of the younger toms. Even Plato, all grown up and ready to be mated later that night, couldn't resist showing off a little for the tom he'd so admired for so long.

The rest of the young toms aspired to just be like Tugger one day. The older cats thought of him as a handful, but still a charmer. Even Demeter had grown to love him as one loves family. But despite all that, it was no secret that no one had ever really considered Tugger to be proper mate and father material.

And that included Mistoffelees himself. As he'd told Tugger almost exactly a year ago—the older cat liked to flirt, to kid, to play around. He didn't want a mate, or at least, he never acted as though he did, as though anyone had ever caught his eye in that way. That was simply Tugger being, well, Tugger. If he acted as though there was nothing he wanted, then no one could mock him for not getting it.

Maybe that wasn't entirely true; everyone knew Tugger wanted attention, and the flirt had never tried to deny that. Even now, as Mistoffelees watched his mate from his seat on the pipe, it was obvious he was thoroughly thriving as the centre of attention. Most Jellicles, as a simple matter of their heritage, were natural showcats, spotlight-seekers. Tugger simply had enough of the showcat instinct for four or five cats. Not to mention how he'd passed down those showcat instinct to some of their kittens; Mistoffelees ruefully shook his head as he thought of Aloysius mimicking his father's inappropriate dance moves, and of Josephine already seeking any and all attention she could get.

For all his brashness, Tugger was certainly irresistibly charming and entertaining. And there was one thing Mistoffelees would openly grant: when there was indeed something Tugger wanted, something for which he wasn't willing to hide his desire… he would move the Heaviside Layer itself to keep that thing.

At first, Mistoffelees simply assumed this attitude applied to mating, and nothing else. He had to admit that mating with Tugger left him feeling as though no other cat ever existed for Tugger, as though his attention would never stray from pleasuring his mate. It certainly made sex incredible, but what made their relationship work was that it didn't stop there.

Mistoffelees had been a little embarrassed about his surprise at Tugger's loving and protective attentiveness during this past year, during his pregnancy and the caring of their kittens. Embarrassed, because maybe his surprise implied that a small part of him expected Tugger to be unwilling to step up to this responsibility, that he expected Tugger to be the shallow, egocentric cat most of the others assumed he was.

He wasn't. He was anything but. And Mistoffelees had stopped feeling surprised after watching Tugger, all brashness and showmanship reigned in, gently holding one or two of their newly-born kittens and watching them as they slept, soothing them as they cried for seemingly hours, letting them tug at his mane and knead him with their little claws. He could be surprisingly patient and gentle with them, even when Mistoffelees himself was ready to scream or cry out of frustration from dealing with their litter. It impressed him especially to watch Tugger hold Mandragora, the smallest and weakest of their litter, the kitten who had been saved at birth only thanks to Tugger's quick, creative thinking.

Tugger was a flirt. A curious cat, a curious beast, as artful and knowing as any Jellicle had a right to be.

And, Mistoffelees mused contently. He's mine.


A bit of a shorty, but that just means more is coming soon. Thanks, all!