Mysterious Ways

Thank you all, readers and reviewers! Things are going to start shaking up in this chapter.

Prifdinnas, I would only feed you the very best fish paste. Keep it away from Misto, though; he's feeling a little eveningsick and it might not agree with him. the1andonlyofo, Asa, thank you both for your lovely words! HGP, nah, Misto's parts aren't turning queenish... but something else about him is definitely giving off a nice, distinctive scent. And Lady Admetus... hey now, who said anything about kittens? ;)

Disclaimical: T.S. Eliot created these kitties, Andrew Lloyd Webber made them sing and dance. I just play with them, like so many toy mice. Jezebel here is my own creation.

A huge thank-you to CrazyIndigoChild for being my beta-reader!


7. Not So Impossible

"Misto…" Tugger sighed, nervously tugging at his mane. It was rumpled from yet another early wake-up call to sit by his sick mate. "Maybe it's time to get some help."

"I'll be all right," Mistoffelees said weakly. "I'm not sick. I just need to rest for a few moments."

He'd been spared any actual retching on this particular evening, for the moment at least, but still felt too ill to do anything but lie on his side in their den, cradling his stomach. Everlasting! When he'd first gotten sick two weeks ago, running outside the den to hack up in the clay flowerpot, he'd thought it to be an odd, one-off occurrence. He'd eaten something bad; he'd caught a chill somewhere in the junkyard, nothing more than that. But then he'd started waking up most nights with this sickness, and it was starting to take its toll on both him and Tugger.

He had stopped eating mice, thinking that maybe they did something strange to his stomach, but he soon found that rats and fish paste and even milk still made him sick when he woke up. The strangest part was that aside from feeling tired, he usually felt fine a few short hours later, as though he'd never felt bad in the first place. Whatever was afflicting him was a decidedly odd illness.

"Well, you've been spending a lot of time in here resting," Tugger said, emphasizing the last word. Mistoffelees could practically hear him mentally adding, 'and not much else'.

There was that, too; they were mating less frequently. It wasn't that Mistoffelees didn't want it; it was just that he had begun feeling too worn out to enjoy it. Tugger was patient about it, but Mistoffelees couldn't blame him for feeling frustrated. He was feeling quite frustrated with the situation himself. It didn't help that Tugger still found his scent to be completely alluring these days, and as a result was more easily turned on than usual.

With a sigh, Mistoffelees rolled over onto his back, throwing one arm over his eyes to shield them from the dying evening sun, draping the other over his unsettled stomach. "I'll be all right," he said again. "You know this always passes after a while."

"But then it's back the next night," Tugger said glumly. "You should talk to Jennyanydots. Or Jezebel or Jellylorum, any of the older queens. They usually know how to fix things like this. Maybe they have… I don't know, medicine or something."

Mistoffelees rolled his arm off one eye, enough to glare up at his mate, but the gesture soon softened. As much as he hated to admit it, Tugger was right; whatever was afflicting him wasn't about to go away on its own. And he had thought about consulting the older queens, who always seemed so full of advice and tips to keep everyone healthy. But there was another nagging fear: that whatever sickness had hold of him wouldn't be cured with some tea and bed rest.

For one, there was the issue of his fur glowing; it had started happening anywhere, at any time, without any conscious effort on Mistoffelees' part. It certainly wasn't painful or inconvenient, and even seemed to amuse every Jellicle who spotted it, but the fact that he couldn't seem to control it was alarming. He still barely understood his strange magical gift; with no one around to teach him, he had taught himself to cast shadows and make lights change, and if he concentrated very hard, he could make objects float. He could usually make his fur sparkle, when he wanted to. But now the glow seemed to be happening on its own, like his magic was taking control.

And so he wondered if this was his magic making him ill, finally growing too strong, wreaking havoc on his small body. If that was the case, there was nothing Jenny or anyone could do to help. But he had to admit, it would be a relief to find out if he was just sick, and only had to worry about weathering an illness.

"All right," Mistoffelees said quietly, dropping his arm from his eyes. Tugger's look of relief was nearly heartbreaking; it was obvious he was despairing about being useless around his ill mate. "As soon as I can stand up, I'll go talk to the queens."

"Good," Tugger murmured. Satisfied, the Maine coon settled down beside Mistoffelees, giving him a few licks to his head fur.

"Are you going to lie there and stare at me until I get up?" the small tom asked.

"Only if you promise not to hack up on me."


It took another good hour before Mistoffelees felt well enough to be up and about. It wasn't considered a strange sight anymore for him and Tugger to stumble out of their shared den at a later hour than everybody else; most Jellicles simply assumed that the two were indulging in a little post wake-up mating. Tugger didn't seem to mind the rumors, especially since they weren't hurting his reputation one bit, though it was clear to Mistoffelees that he wished some actual mating was going on as well.

Mistoffelees decided to speak with Jenny, if only because he felt closer to her than to the other two mature queens of the tribe. He had feared that Tugger would insist on coming along, but he had managed to shoo away his mate with enough ease, leaving him to wander around the junkyard on his own and maybe bask in a bit of adoring-queen attention. They certainly hadn't given up their fervent pursuit of their beloved Tugger, even though it was clear he was off-limits, but as long as all paws stayed where he could see them, he was fine with letting Tugger have his bit of fun.

At least it gave Mistoffelees a bit of much-needed solitude every once in a while, more than ever in a time like this.

He found Jennyanydots quickly enough; she was sitting just outside her den, crocheting some yarn into a sort of blanket and throwing the occasional glance towards Pouncival and Tumblebrutus, who playfully wrestled some distance away.

Jenny gave him a wide smile as she spotted him. "Mistoffelees, hello! How are you?"

"Actually, Jenny," Mistoffelees said. He glanced towards the tussling toms, grateful that they hadn't spotted him. The last thing he needed was more attention. "Could I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course, dear!" Jenny said. She rose to her feet and draped the half-finished blanket over an upturned basket, leading Mistoffelees into her den. "Come inside here, it's quieter. Now what's on your mind? Is it about you and Rum Tum Tugger? Do you need advice about anything?"

Trust the motherly queen to get right to the juicy details. Mistoffelees nearly smiled. A lot of the Jellicles had been curious about the details of his union with Tugger (and in the case of Etcetera, a little too interested in the intimate details.) He knew the older queens had been dying for some gossip.

"No, it's nothing to do with Tugger at all," Mistoffelees said. "I've been feeling a bit sick lately, so I was wondering if I could ask for some help."

"You poor thing!" Jenny said. She made him sit on an oversized knitted pillow and immediately felt his face, nuzzling him gently before pressing her cheek to his. "Good, you don't seem to have a fever. What's been troubling you?"

"Well, I've been feeling sick to my stomach."

"Oh my, vomiting too?" Jenny asked. At Mistoffelees' slight, embarrassed nod, she added, "Have you eaten anything untoward? Anything spoiled? Some of the rats carry mean little bugs."

"I don't think it's what I've been eating, really," Mistoffelees said. "It just happens when I wake up."

Jenny held his face in her paws, turning his head this way and that. "You don't look too unwell, though you certainly look as though you could use a good nap. When did you start feeling like this?"

"Maybe a few weeks ago."

Jenny's mouth was pressed in a hard line. "So, would this be after you began mating with Tugger?"

"Jenny!" Mistoffelees said, blushing hotly. "What could Tugger have to do with this? He isn't making me sick."

"Of course not," Jenny said, taking the sting out of her implied accusation by gently patting the small tom on the head. "But it helps to look at all possibilities. The two of you have been in… close contact. He may have given you something contagious without meaning to."

"Then wouldn't Tugger be sick too?"

Jenny smiled, leaning down to nuzzle him again. "These things can happen in odd ways. I remember when Munkustrap was a kitten, and he ended up catching-"

She froze mid-sentence, her whiskers twitching agitatedly against Mistoffelees' face. "What?" he asked, alarmed at her reaction. "What is it?"

She didn't immediately respond, but Mistoffelees could feel her urgently sniffing at his neck and then his chest. "J… Jenny?"

The queen finally pulled away; she had a look in her eyes that was everything from stern to confused, leaving Mistoffelees more than a little anxious at what her examination had uncovered. "What's wrong with me?"

"I… er… nothing's wrong, Mistoffelees. Would you stay here and rest for a moment? I'll be right back."

Jenny was out of her den and gone before Mistoffelees could argue. Sitting back on the pillow, he lifted a paw to his nose and tried to detect a change in his own scent. Nothing seemed different to him; but then again, Tugger had definitely been reacting to a change in his scent. Maybe he was seriously ill.

Growing restless and anxious, Mistoffelees had nearly resolved to leave Jenny's den and go searching for her when he heard a shuffling by the entrance, and urgent, hushed voices. Now concerned and curious, Mistoffelees quietly padded over to the entrance, just close enough so he could hear what all the commotion was about. He could discern Jenny's voice, and as he got a little closer Jezebel's shriller voice cut above the rest.

"—gone soft in the head, you have, Jenny! You do realize what you just suggested?"

"Why?" Jenny huffed indignantly. "Why do you assume it's impossible? You're old enough to know, Jezebel, that this tribe has seen too many astonishing, miraculous things to count! Why is this any different?"

"Well," Jellylorum interjected softly. "He is a tom. Don't you find that disconcerting? Maybe even a little disturbing?"

Disturbing? What could be disturbing about him being sick? Was he dying? Mistoffelees frowned and edged closer, so he could peek between the folds of the cloth which covered the entrance of Jenny's den. The three queens were huddled closely together as they continued their animated discussion.

"Perplexing, yes," Jenny relented. "And if it were any other tom, I would think the Everlasting Cat was playing some very strange tricks on us. But… well, it makes some sense, doesn't it? He's always been a special one."

"That's if you're correct about this," Jezebel cut in. "The simplest explanation is that you're mistaken, my dear."

"You think I don't recognize the scent? Really, now!"

"He's so young, still," Jellylorum said. "Does he suspect, at all?"

Jenny shook her head. "Goodness, no. Why would he? I wouldn't have suspected either, if I hadn't smelled him myself."

Jezebel still looked quite dubious. Jellylorum, for her part, gave a tired sigh and said, "I have to confess, Jenny, I find this whole idea very strange. If you're right, this is going to take a lot of getting used to."

"And how do you think he's going to feel? The little one's going to need some kindness, so please, if we could just-"

"Excuse me," Mistoffelees interrupted, stepping out from his hiding spot near the den entrance. He couldn't help it; the queens' bizarrely cryptic conversation had terrified him. "What's going on?"

Jezebel and Jellylorum immediately hushed and stared at him; Jellylorum, with large, surprised eyes, and Jezebel, with a narrowed, suspicious gaze.

"Hello, dear," Jellylorum said, looking nervously from Jenny to Mistoffelees. "Jenny tells us you haven't been feeling well?"

"Misto, get back inside," Jenny quickly urged, pushing him inside the den to sit on the pillow again and motioning for the other two queens to follow them in. Before Mistoffelees could respond or protest, Jenny urged the other two forward with a whispered, "His scent. Go on, tell me what you think."

Jellylorum had a puzzled frowned between her eyes as she leaned over the small tom, nuzzling him gently before sniffing him much as Jenny had earlier. At first she had not much reaction, but suddenly she tensed, drawing back to look at Mistoffelees, stunned. On his other side, Jezebel had barely begun smelling the side of his head when she too drew back and gave him astonished look.

"No," Jezebel breathed. "This is just not possible!"

"You see?" Jenny said from behind the queens. There was a hint of smugness to her tone. "You smell it too. I knew I was right."

"Yes, but… but how-?" Jellylorum asked. She was staring at Mistoffelees and looked as though she was trying not to smile, to his continued puzzlement.

"As I told you, he's been getting sick to his stomach," Jenny said, and Jellylorum cocked her head, as though somehow it made sense. "And this all started after he began mating with Tugger, as you would guess."

"Hm," Jezebel said, giving him a long hard look. "Bizarre as it is, that explains some of it. Not all of it, mind you."

"What?" Mistoffelees said, feeling dangerously close to panic. The queens were toying with him and he did not like it one bit. "Will you please tell me what's wrong with me? What's wrong with my scent?"

The three queens exchanged some very knowing looks. It was Jenny who first spoke up again, her eyes twinkling. "Mistoffelees, my dear… you smell like an expecting queen."

"I… I what?" Mistoffelees stammered. What were they implying? He certainly hadn't been cavorting around with any queens! "Why do I smell like…? I haven't been around any queens. Is anyone in the tribe expecting?"

Jellylorum finally gave up her efforts to restrain her smile. "The scent is coming from you. Jenny is right; it seems you're pregnant, love."

Everlasting Cat, now they had to be toying with him. Some things were just impossible. He was a tom, for goodness' sake, and certainly not looking to be pregnant! If he smelled funny, there had to be another, perfectly reasonable explanation.

"You must be mistaken," Mistoffelees said flatly. He rose from the pillow; it was starting to get stuffy in the den, he needed air.

"Well, really," Jezebel said, whiskers twitching indignantly. "Do you know how many kits we've had, between the three of us? We know a pregnant cat when we smell one."

"But that's…" Mistoffelees whispered. He pressed a shaking hand to his face, suddenly feeling weak; his own voice began to sound thin in his ears and he swayed where he stood. "I can't be… I-I'm not…"

"Oh dear," he heard one of the queens say. It sounded like Jellylorum; it was hard to tell as his head spun. "Let's just lay him down here for a moment…"

He was barely conscious of at least two pairs of hands taking hold of him, carrying him over to lie on something soft. Jenny's bed, no doubt. Mistoffelees covered his face with trembling hands, breathing with difficulty as the urge to hack up returned in full force.

Jenny was at his side, gently petting his ears; thankfully, the other two queens were keeping their distance, trying not to crowd him, though Jellylorum took a careful step forward to hand Jenny an empty ceramic bowl.

"Take deep breaths," Jenny said softly. "Do you feel like you might—oh my."

Mistoffelees made a blind fumble for the bowl and Jenny held it up just in time for him to be sick in it. He coughed and sputtered pitifully for a few moments as Jenny continued to gently rub his head, holding up the receptacle with a steady hand until it was clear he was finished.

"S-sorry," Mistoffelees said; it came out as more of a whimper. This was too much to process; he'd never even planned on getting a queen pregnant, and most certainly hadn't intended to try it out himself!

He had to admit that a tiny, rational part of his mind insisted that it made sense—it explained his odd illness, his altered scent that drove Tugger wild, all going back to his trancelike state at the Jellicle Ball and… Everlasting. Maybe they were right.

"Here, some water," Jezebel said, taking the bowl away and pressing a small cup into Jenny's hands. "It'll help him clear his head."

With Jenny's help, he sat up and took a small drink of the water, grateful as it seemed to help calm his stomach. He couldn't help but move gingerly, now that he was aware that there were kittens inside him. Shouldn't he be able to feel them? Shouldn't he have known somehow, felt differently, aside from just hacking up anything he ate before bed?

"There we are, just relax," Jenny said soothingly. "I understand this is overwhelming."

"Overwhelming!" Mistoffelees said. He pressed a shaking hand to his mouth. "Toms aren't meant to… to be pregnant!"

"Well, they certainly aren't supposed to be," Jezebel sniffed, hands on her hips. At Jenny's warning look, she softened her tone somewhat. "But this is clearly a very unusual situation, Misto. Did you do anything to make these kits? Aside from the obvious, of course."

It sounded close enough to an accusation that Mistoffelees moaned softly and covered his face with his hands. He was already confused and upset and being berated wasn't helping. No, he hadn't wanted to make kits; all he'd done was mate with Tugger, and now felt horribly humiliated that these queens were asking about his personal life in such a way.

Jenny gave a small cough. "Yes, well, I'm intensely curious about that as well. Toms aren't usually able to make kittens of their own, you know."

"I know," Mistoffelees whimpered. He peeked out from between his fingers; Jellylorum was still intently staring at him, while Jezebel's look continued to imply that he'd done something wrong. "I-I think it happened at the Jellicle Ball. I'm almost sure of it. I started to feel strange, like the Jellicle Moon was taking control of my magic, and… I felt as though I had to find Tugger, and…" He went quiet and flushed hotly with embarrassment as the queens began to murmur in agreement.

"I knew there was magic in the air this year!" Jellylorum said.

"Magic, and the Rum Tum Tugger," Jezebel said, smirking broadly. "That would be enough to explain any kittens, even in a tom."

"I'm sorry," Mistoffelees breathed, though he wasn't quite sure what he had to apologize about. He didn't want any of them to be mad at him and while Jenny seemed giddy enough about the situation, the other two still seemed a little guarded. "I know this shouldn't be happening. Is that why they've been making me sick?"

"Oh no," Jezebel said. "That happens to any pregnant cat. If you wanted to see what it was like to have kittens, well, you'll get to enjoy the pains of it too."

"Enough now, please," Jenny gently admonished. "Mistoffelees, sweet dear, I don't know much about how your magic works, but obviously it had something to do with these kits being made in these rather… extraordinary circumstances. Maybe even the Everlasting Cat had something to do with it."

"I don't know," Mistoffelees sighed. "J-Jenny... I didn't want any of this to happen. I really don't think Tugger did either. I don't know what's going to happen now."

"Oh, come now," Jenny said, reaching up to pet his ears again. "Everything will be all right; kittens are always welcome in our tribe. And dear Tugger will just have to learn that there are consequences to indiscriminate mating."

"You know, I don't think dear innocent Tugger ever planned for something like this to happen," Jezebel said, tittering softly into her hand.

"I'm just surprised it took him this long to finally sire some kits," Jellylorum said with a grin. "Wait until Gus hears about this."

"No, no!" Mistoffelees cried. "Don't tell anyone! Not until I've talked to Tugger. Please."

"For goodness' sake, of course we won't tell anyone!" Jenny said, appalled. "But—well, you may want to tell him as soon as possible. We're not the only ones who'll recognize your scent right away. It will only get stronger as the kittens keep growing."

Mistoffelees nodded, putting a hand to his forehead; the dizziness was threatening to come back as Jenny's words sunk in: kittens. Growing. Looking down at his furry, flat abdomen, he quietly said, "I don't feel the kits. Shouldn't I be able to feel them in there?"

"Oh goodness, not yet!" Jenny laughed softly. "They're much too small, dear. They don't even have paws and tails yet."

"When they start moving around, you'll know it," Jellylorum said. "It feels like mice skittering around under your fur."

Mistoffelees did his best to not look horrified at the thought.

"Now, once you've told Tugger and the two of you have had time to digest this, you'll need to come back and see me," Jenny said, giving him a hand up and off the bedding, making sure he was steady on his feet. "Having kits is a very important and major thing and we have a lot of things to discuss."

"It's not frightening," Jellylorum said, soothingly petting his shoulder. "It feels wonderful, you'll see. But you'll need plenty of rest. Growing kits is a tiring endeavor."

"And plenty of food, when you can manage it," Jezebel added. The initial shock had seemingly worn off and all three were now in full motherly mode. "When the kits grow bigger stomachs, they won't make you hack up all the time."

"And plenty of water."

"And take it easy with the mating, at least for now."

"All right, I think Mistoffelees has enough advice for the moment," Jenny said, laughing as she nuzzled the blanching tom. "Now go on, and be with your mate right now. The two of you are going to have a lot to talk about!"

"Thank you, Jenny," Mistoffelees said weakly. He nodded towards the other two queens, who were smiling broadly and watching him move towards the entrance of Jenny's den. "And you two as well."

They were going to have one massive gossip session the second he left, Mistoffelees could tell. But really, could he blame them? This didn't even come close to the mild shock of him and Tugger becoming mates. This was… bordering on the impossible.

He needed to find Tugger now, though he hadn't the faintest idea how to announce this particular piece of news. When queens became pregnant, it always seemed like such a happy event, something to be joyfully announced to their mates and then shared with the entire tribe. It was happy news; but he couldn't even tell if he himself was happy about it.

As he walked across the junkyard, first passing Tumblebrutus and Pouncival, and then Alonzo, he was terrified that they suddenly knew, could tell that he was pregnant, could smell him coming from miles away. He prayed that he wouldn't run into Coricopat or Tantomile; they always seemed to know more than anyone else. Would they know right away that he was pregnant? Had they known since the Jellicle Ball? Even more troubling, would they also be able to tell that he didn't particularly want to be pregnant?

It was all he could do to keep himself from running back to Tugger's den, crawling beneath the blankets, and hope that this would end up being one long, strange dream.

Tugger was easy to find, once Mistoffelees picked up his scent. He found that his mate had commandeered the large tire in the centre of the junkyard and now comfortably reclined on top of it, letting his legs dangle off the edge.

Electra playfully batted at his hanging feet, while Etcetera hung from the edge of the tire, giggling at something Tugger was saying. Bombalurina leaned against the tire, trying to look alluring without looking as though she was trying. Though when she saw Mistoffelees approach, she had the good grace to look a little ashamed at her flirting with an unavailable tom.

The young queens, as always, looked positively overjoyed at his arrival. Mistoffelees wondered if maybe their interest in Tugger had heightened after they learned he'd taken a tom as a mate. Etcetera, for her part, always seemed excited to possibly catch them in a kiss or an embrace. Mistoffelees wondered why she found the thought so appealing.

Tugger sat up and smiled charmingly at the sight of his mate, no longer paying a whit of attention the queens lounging around him. Rather than fill Mistoffelees with happiness or relief, it left him bristling.

"Hi Misto!" Etcetera said. "Will you come dance with us?"

Mistoffelees nodded politely at her as a greeting, but he didn't trust himself to speak. It wasn't fair that Tugger could just wile away the night without a care. Not when Mistoffelees had to deal with what the three busy queens had revealed to him. He still hadn't made sense of the thoughts and emotions running through his head and right now, the sight of the carelessly lounging Tugger surrounded by the young queens only filled him with anger.

Mistoffelees couldn't help it; he glared hard at his lover, tail whipping furiously, and turned away, heading towards their shared den.

He heard Electra calling after him, then Tugger calling out his name, but he steadfastly ignored them all. He needed to be alone right now.

Pushing his way into the den, Mistoffelees sat in a tight little curl on their blankets and sighed glumly. He was alone now, but he wasn't, really. These little kits were going to follow him around for a while. They were going to keep growing inside him, and everyone would be able to see it, and it was going to feel like mice crawling around under his fur, and after that the kittens would be ready to-

"Mistoffelees!" Tugger said. He stomped into the den and stood above his mate with an irritated huff. "What's with you? Nothing was happening out there."

"I know," Mistoffelees said, tonelessly.

"You hurt the queens' feelings. We were just talking. Flirting, like always. I wasn't doing anything with them."

"I know, Tugger," Mistoffelees said; his voice had begun to crack and he clasped a hand over his mouth. He was humiliatingly close to tears, his head still spinning with all this new information. He needed more time to process this before telling Tugger.

Tugger, for his part, was still standing uselessly, trying to puzzle out exactly what he had just done wrong. "Did… did Jenny say you were sick? Are you mad because I wasn't there?"

"I'm not sick."

"Then what's got your fur in a snit? You're acting like a bratty kitten."

That did it. Mistoffelees' ears flattened and he glared daggers at his mate. "Get out, Tugger."

"This is my den."

"Get out!"

With an irritated growl, Tugger threw up his hands and marched out of the den, leaving an upset Mistoffelees behind. The small tom felt dangerously close to tears again as he curled up on the blankets and closed his eyes with a shaky sigh.

Everlasting Cat. How were they ever going to handle this?


The scent thing purely comes my observations of cats reacting positively around pregnant cats (and other pregnant animals).

And yes, that's right, I've essentially turned Etcetera into a slash fangirl. Well, wouldn't you hang around Tugger all the time if you knew he might plant a kiss on Misto? Yeah, I thought so!