Tugger let his head fall to his chest, and waited for the screaming to start. But after a moment, he realized it didn't. He looked up tentatively through one eye and saw that his brother had fallen to the floor, and was sitting cross-legged staring into space. Tugger sat up and looked down at him. Munkustrap was breathing shallowly, and he looked he had been kicked in the stomach. His face had gone pale, and his jaw hung open as if he was planning to say something, but forgot what it was. Finally, he took in a deep breath and spoke. "Tugger, you…you…you and…and…my…my…" He trailed off as he ran out of breath.

"Spit it out. There's no use hiding it now." Tugger stood and stretched carefully.

"You and my…you and my…you, The Rum Tum Tugger, and my…" He had lifted one paw and was prodding the air in front of him with a finger pointed in his brother's general direction. He took in a deep breath again. "You and…" In the middle of his thought, he sprang up, grabbed the paper and dashed back to his den. Behind him, a fading voice was calling his name. He climbed a pile of tires and leaped down to the center of the yard in one bound. He was running on adrenalin and adrenalin alone. He felt his heart racing in his chest, and his knees were beginning to tighten. Running even faster, his breath was growing shallower and shallower. Time, though, seemed to be slowing. His mind was swirling. When? He thought. I've been with Demeter since we were kittens! He used to flirt with her a little, but he flirted with everything that moved! Tugger's got to be lying! He's got to be lying! But if he's lying, then why am I running? He gasped. Because he's not lying! A long forgotten memory flooded his mind…

"If that's how you feel, then maybe we shouldn't be getting married at all!" Demeter screamed.

"Fine! Go! See if anyone goes looking for you!" Munkustrap shouted back. She slammed the door to the small den he and Tugger shared as she left. He paced the floor in anger and frustration. He barely noticed that the front door open and closed twice as he grumbled and continued to pace. Four hours later, Munkustrap was feeling more sad than anything else, and finally, there was a light knock from the front of the den. He came running into the living room from his bedroom and pushed Tugger out of the way, knocking him carelessly to the ground. He pulled the door open with such force he feared it would fall off the hinges, but he didn't care; on the other side of that door was Demeter with her arms wide open. She grabbed him around the neck and they hugged for a long time. "I'm sorry." Munkustrap whispered in her ear. He heard a small whimpering noise, and he thought it was Demeter, even though it didn't really sound like her, and she wasn't crying. Tugger was gone from where he had fallen, Munkustrap noticed, as he and Demeter moved over towards the couch…

The rest was a blur. Except…The note! Demeter had a note in her hands when she came through the door. He had thought nothing about it at the time, but now he realized how important it was. Nearing his house, he skidded to a stop, digging his heals into he ground. The note was still crumpled up in his hands. He flew open the door and locked it behind him, panting all the while. He read it over again. The small, delicate writing was neither his nor Demeter's, but it certainly couldn't have been Tugger's…

"Honey!" He screamed between breaths. "Demey!" He ran to the back of the house, and found her reading at his desk.

"What's wrong?" Her brow furrowed as she put down the book.

"Honey," He took in a breath. "Dear, what is this?" He held up the paper to her and she took it, looking it over curiously. She, like Munkustrap had, flipped it from front to back, searching for something.

"I don't know, dear, what is it?" He took back the note and folded it a few times until it was just a small square with the tiny poem on it. Demeter grabbed it and read it carefully. Slowly a smile grew on her face. She put it down on the table and hugged Munkustrap tightly. "You're so sweet!" She kissed him lightly on the lips and continued to read. Munkustrap was flabbergasted*. He stared at her, still holding up the note, and began to babble. Demeter put her book down once again. "What, Munk?"

"What is this?" He pointed to the note with exasperation.

"Don't play stupid, dear, it's not very becoming. This," She took the note and looked at it with tender nostalgia. "is the poem that saved our marriage." She smiled and tucked it back in the box bearing her monogram gently. "Why'd you take it out?"

"Because I didn't write that!" He stood up and pointed at the box like it was diseased.

"What are you talking about? Of course you did! When I ran off that night, you came and dropped this off at my mom's den. When I got there, she handed it to me, and said, 'a certain young tom,' brought it for me. Who could it have been if it wasn't you?" She had her arm on his shoulder, and Munkustrap's stomach dropped as he realized he'd have to tell her who it was. He'd have to tell her it was the one cat in the whole yard she disliked. He'd have to tell her that the flirt, the dirt of the tribe, the tom she regularly threatened to feed to the kittens, wrote her the poem that she had kept as a token of their love for the past twenty years.

"Um…" Munkustrap began.

"Just, tell me, Munk." Demeter looked into his eyes like she was searching his soul for an answer.

"It was Tugger."