Noon was high and the yard was full of cats sprawled out and dozing in the sun-kissed patches, allowing the warmth to penetrate their coats and the soft breeze to tickle their whiskers. Today had so far been a welcome reprieve from the morning frosts and frigid air which had them all retreating to their dens and snuggling into their blankets for warmth.

While their little village was sleeping, Tugger was having a peaceful day circling the yard and watching the pigeons. He leaned up against the chain link fence and stared as the birds flitted from the ground to a low gutter or a lamp post, softly cooing and bobbing their smooth grey heads.

Tugger squinted a bit and lowered his head in concentration as he heard a commotion in the distance, metal clattering and some human shouting. He saw a blur of red and gold, feet kicking out behind them and the tip of an autumn-colored tail disappearing around a corner. He laughed a bit to himself and turned back to the pigeons. One of them flapped a wing and shat.

"Oh, come on now. Didn't even wait for a hat to ruin."

On down the street, he spotted a child on a bicycle with something very sparkly in the spokes of one wheel. Mesmerized, he started making his way down to the far side of the fence to investigate. Tugger stepped onto a tarp and felt his foot sink into something yielding and frankly, quite wiggly. It squeaked.

"Ouch!"

"Ouch?" Tugger replied, lifting his foot.

It started crying.

"Oi, who's under there?" he asked, finding the edge of the tarp to lift it. The little lump shivered, and as Tugger drew the coarse canvas back he revealed the sniveling form of a small black kitten. "Hello, hello! Who're you, then?"

The little thing sniffled again, wiping one white-socked paw across his dripping nose. "I'm lost. Well, not lost. They just didn't want me. And I'm cold and I'm hungry and my mother is gone and this big thing was chasing me and I came here to hide but then you stepped on me and now I— I—I'm—" he started taking big, quick, gasping breaths that halted his speech and dissolved back into tears.

"Hey, alright, alright then, don't do that, now," He whispered a little frantically, hands hovering over the hysterical kit, not quite knowing what to do. "Here, let me, um," and he scooped the little body into his arms, cradling it a bit awkwardly but securely. "I'll find you something to eat, and- and a blanket."

Tugger crept back into the main area of the junkyard, petting the small head tucked into his shoulder and making soothing noises, hoping desperately that he wouldn't catch anyone's attention and be seen cuddling a baby cat. He slipped into his family's thankfully empty den and laid the crumpled bundle gently onto his usual cushion, tucking his own blanket securely around his charge. "I'll be right back. Let me find a mouse or something."

"But… how long will you be gone?" the kitten asked, apprehensive gaze peeking out from the blanket he was buried in. He nuzzled his nose into the folds of the material, looking up at a shy angle.

"Not long, I promise. I'm an excellent hunter," Tugger replied, waggling his eyebrows and giving the tiny tom an exaggerated wink.

"Oh," he laughed, "Alright then. But, um, you'll come back, right?"

"I just said that I would. Besides, you're lying on my bed," Tugger said, one long finger pointed at the pillow.

"Oh. Right, um, okay."

Big, wide eyes watched him as he left the den, making him feel both warm and uncomfortably responsible at the same time.

Tugger made quick work of tracking down quite a plump rat. He returned to the den without much delay, feeling very proud of himself. The kit was lying still in the same spot that he'd left him in, nearly asleep. Tugger nudged him a little with one finger when he approached the pillow, and the fluffy young cat startled and chirped. "Here," Tugger said, handing him the rat.

The kitten took it gratefully, chewing on it with enthusiasm. "So what's your name, kit?" Tugger asked, watching him gnaw on the rodent that was nearly half of his size.

"Oh, um… well, the humans didn't give me one, but my mother called me Mistoffelees," he replied quietly, pausing from his meal and looking down at the ground while his shoulders tucked up near his ears.

"Well then, little Mister Mistoffelees. I'm Rum Tum Tugger." Tugger looked at his paws and thought for a moment. It occurred to him that Mistoffelees probably didn't have any place to go, or anyone to care for him at all. He glanced sidelong at the wispy black fur and the tiny, twitchy nose. "I could ask my father if you might stay in the junkyard. We have a whole village of cats here."

"Oh! Really?" Big amber eyes lit up, but suddenly shifted into worry and sadness. "I don't want to be a bother, though. I know that nobody really wants me around," he said, sniffing once and twitching his tail.

"Nonsense. The yard is full of strays, and Jellylorum's just found out she's due for a litter. The new kittens will need someone to play with, you know."

Mistoffelees smiled shyly and tucked his chin into his chest. "Okay," he said, eyes bright again as he thought of having playmates and maybe… maybe a family to love him. He slowly brought the rat back up to his mouth and bit into it distractedly, wondering if Rum Tum Tugger might be his new brother. When he'd eaten so much that he thought his small stomach might burst, he gave the nearly-whole rat to his companion and curled up in the bed, head and one paw resting against Tugger's leg.

Tugger ate the rest of the rat and stared down at the kitten. Blast it, but he really had to admit to himself that the kit was cute. Not that he'd tell anyone that, mind.

He rested a paw on the young cat's back, stroking his baby-soft fur and listening to the small purr that rose up to his ears. Tugger sighed as an oddly strong wave of affection swept through him. He took a moment to listen carefully, ears perked, to the noises outside. Once he was certain that no one was close by or headed in his direction, he slowly lowered himself to the cushion and curled around the small warm body, continuing to stroke the little ball of fluff that then snuggled more deeply into his side.

Tugger relaxed and after a short time felt himself drift towards sleep. Just before his consciousness dimmed, he realized that he was purring.

Munkustrap crossed the yard in deep thought. He wondered if he was suitable for the role that his father had announced he would take on once he was old enough, if he really could protect the tribe. In the three weeks since he had been told, Munkus had been very solemnly considering what attitude he should adopt about it, how detached or involved he should be within the community, if he was too old now to play tumble fighting with his friends. Of course he was. Why, he was practically an adult now! No time for kittenish games and careless giggling. He had to practice vigilance, and true combat, and—storytelling! Yes, of course he had to practice his storytelling. If he wanted to be seen as an authority on anything, he had to be seen as an authority on tribe lore.

So deep in thought was he that Munkustrap walked directly into an old shoebox and stumbled over its side, falling into the paper container. With one back paw sticking straight up into the air, he stayed still for a moment. Grace, he thought, definitely have to work on being a bit more graceful. And observant.

He pulled himself free of the box and regained composure. Much more observantly, he continued walking back to his family den. He climbed up to the ledge where it rested and pulled himself through the opening in the side of the wooden crate, shuffling over to his bed. Munkus let out a soft ouf when he flopped down, stretching out and kneading at his blanket. All this thoughtful consideration had made him a bit tired. He circled around, flattening and fluffing before settling on his side facing the middle of the room. Just as he took a deep breath and started closing his eyes, he spotted his brother on his own bed, holding a fluffy little kitten.

A kitten? Munkustrap sat up quickly, staring. He coughed softly, and whispered, "Tugger? Tugger."

Tugger shifted a bit and gave a grunt, clutching more tightly to the baby curled up on his chest.

"Tugger!" Munkustrap said more loudly, and his brother jumped a little and glanced at him, suddenly alert. He looked slowly at the kitten that was currently pinning him to the bed with soft snores and adorable, squeaky sighs, and very carefully shifted the small form back onto the bed to extricate himself.

"Um, yes?"

"What are you doing with a kitten? Where did it come from?"

"Well, ah, you see, I found him."

"You found him."

"Yes, I stepped on him."

"You stepped on him? Tugger what is the matter with—"

"No, no, it was an accident! He was hiding, and I accidentally stepped on him." Tugger fidgeted anxiously, "He's lost. Or, well no, he was tossed out by his humans. He hasn't got any place to be."

"Oh," Munkus said, feeling pity for the little kit. It was tough to be abandoned, especially so young.

"Anyway, I was going to ask father if we could keep him—er, you know, if the village would take him in," Tugger shifted awkwardly, unconsciously stroking the small tail by his leg.

Munkustrap looked at Tugger, nodding in understanding. His brother was obviously already attached to the little tom, though Munkus knew he wouldn't admit so. "Do you know his name?"

"Mistoffelees," Tugger said absently, staring blankly with his brow furrowed.

"Well, I'm sure father will understand. It's hard to turn away a cat so young."

Tugger nodded and laid back down, staring up at the top of their den and remaining silent, the back of one paw distractedly playing with downy midnight fur. Munkustrap curled back up for his nap, suddenly not quite so sleepy. He stared at his littermate for a long while before curling in properly and taking his rest.

A/N: Character development! (Incrementally) longer chapters! Baby Mistoffelees (d'aww)! Huzzah! And we trudge on through.