All of these are just sweet and cute, except Rebirth which is bittersweet...

I feel so bad for Brie, but when a character insists on dying in my head, I have to let them :c

046. Lust (428)
It wasn't allowed on plans. Pinky tended to get distracted far too easily in normal circumstances for there not to be a specific rule. No love things. No mention of love things. Such thoughts had to be saved for after the plan. And even then it was The Brain who tended to bring the subject up unless Pinky kissed him in the middle of his rants. But his companion knew the rule very well; it was one thing amongst very few that Brain had managed to ingrain on those very lonely two brain cells.

It was detrimental, then, to alter the situation. But it was difficult to resist when faced with a new situation, particularly since the megalomaniac was very much interested in getting what he wanted when he wanted it. As this was the first plan he'd required Pinky to dress up since the pair had become far more than mere friends, he was dealing with quite a new situation.

The attractiveness of him in those form-fitting skirts, those red, red lips, and those big blue eyes had always been something he'd been able to ignore in the past. Not with ease, but he'd managed it. But that was before he'd known how those lips had tasted or how dark those eyes could get or how mobile and flexible that body was.

He knew now, could think of little else when his lover flitted by in that slinky pink dress suit - "Oh, Brain, it's fetching like your eyes! It's like I'll have them on me all night! Zort." He couldn't have known how right he'd be about that, but it was distracting him from the plan. He'd never pull off this real estate ploy if he couldn't focus long enough to give their clients details on the property Brain didn't actually own.

But the desire continued prickling under his skin to the point where he ended up falling on his face because Pinky had passed a little too close. "Brain?" Concerned, Pinky knelt down and, for a moment, forgot that he'd selected a short skirt. The smaller mouse got a glimpse of blue panties and his mind simple short-circuited. He crushed their lips together, hard and demanding and not caring in the least that the humans were still in the room. He dragged his husband through a crack in the wall and the sounds of their squeaky love songs carried through the empty house and sent the humans on their way.

The plan failed, Brain's rule had been broken. And he didn't care in the slightest.

047. Longing (418)

It was something they had in common that neither of them knew. And they knew each other very well after two and a half months of marriage and two and a half months of courtship. They knew hopes and dreams and fears, where to touch to tickle or entice. But there was one thing they both kept quiet from one another because neither knew how to broach the subject.

It was especially difficult for Feta, who knew so well how easily a baby could be born to two male mice. Romy and the twins were all clones; he and Teddy could have a clone. They could have a baby and raise him and be a happy little trio until the baby grew and married and had babies of his or her own. He wasn't picky.

Theodore was picky. He wanted a boy. He didn't know much more than that, but he wanted a boy. And he wanted one with Feta. He drew his lover a bit closer, nudging his ear with his nose, and smiled at the quiet giggles that escaped from the fluffy white mouse. "I wonder if he'd have your fur or mine," he murmured, studying the contrasting deep gray of his own arm to the pure white of his partner's. "Perhaps both."

Feta was quiet a moment, the sleepy, contented tone of his husband making him wonder if he had any idea that he'd spoken aloud. He rolled over, bumping their noses together by practice as his vision had vanished just after they'd wed. "Maybe he," because if Teddy wanted a boy, so did Feta, "will be pudgy like you."

He felt the light scoff, his partner's lips so close to his own. "I'm hardly pudgy. It's fluff."

The slighter mouse wound himself a little tighter around his husband, smile fond, and melded against the chubby tummy. He was fluff; his darling husband was pudgy. "Right. Fluff."

"Don't patronize me. Our son won't be patronizing." Their son. Feta's smile brightened and had he been able to see, he would've seen golden eyes springing open. But he heard the little, "Ah... Assuming, of course, that you would want one. A child. They're quite the responsibility."

Giggling, Feta drew him into a kiss and wriggled happily against him. "I want a baby, Teddy."

Theodore's chuckle was low, his pudgy tummy rumbling against his husband's and causing him to giggle a bit more. "Then I suppose we'll have to have one. Soon."

"Very soon," the white mouse agreed.

048. Tender (622)

It always came as a surprise. It shouldn't have, but his husband was so energetic, so wild, so carefree. It was difficult for the megalomaniac to pair something that never stopped moving - and moving quickly - with the slow motions required for something like this. And yet it happened. It happened often enough that it really should've stopped being a surprise at some point, but he supposed the day he stopped being surprised by his lover would be the day he started falling out of love with him.

That, of course, was just never going to happen.

But he had such a headache. He'd dreaded going to bed that night after even his family had done nothing but get on his nerves at dinner. It had taken the last of his patience to not glare at shy little Jack, and Pinky had already received a bop that evening. So he wasn't looking forward to dealing with his imbecilic husband before bed.

He crawled beneath the blanket without informing him that he was even lying down early, leaving him to play with Bella and Terry in the playroom. He wasn't aware that his daughter and the boy had a date planned or that Pinky was looking for him. He was really only aware of the pounding in his skull at that point, his body curled up tightly in defense against it, his hands pulling his ears down and holding them flat while his eyes squeezed shut against any sort of light that may dare show its presence.

It was nights like these, nights that he had to pack so much into his mind that he wondered if he shouldn't start passing duties on to his daughter. More than just the occasional world tour, but it was still so difficult to think of her as anything but a baby. No matter that she'd given him a grandson. His headache, however, was being rather insistent. She could take on one or two things. And while he was loathe to give up France, the only country he'd never dipped in numbers, that would be the easiest for his girl to work with at first.

Thinking was starting to hurt, which was a big problem for the brilliant emperor. His intellect demanded constant thought unless he was sleeping and, at the moment, thoughts and pain were exactly what was keeping him from that blessed state. Well, those and the distinct lack of two extremely important phrases.

He let out a low, pained moan when the pillow he was on shifted. And then a warm body curled around him, making him tense. Every single motion and every single sound had pain exploding behind his eyes, the emperor self-diagnosing this as the worst migraine in recorded history.

But then the kisses started. Soft brushes of warm lips, rubbing against his head and down his back. Slow and light, teasing his tail until it relaxed, and then up his spine again until he'd uncurled to provide complete, instinctive access. His hands fell away from his ears as a second pair lifted, massaging his temples with a tenderness that swept through the small, big-headed mouse in a way that had him moaning for an entirely different reason.

The kisses continued, the gentle hands leaving his head to glide through the fur of the rest of his body. And as his mind was swept away, sleep finally beginning to take hold, he felt one of those tender kisses at his lips. "Goodnight, Brain," was the whisper that swelled his heart. "I love you."

It always came as a surprise, but he always loved his husband that much more after a display of such careful tenderness. "I love you too, dear. Goodnight."

049. Hard (344)

It wasn't easy, by any means. The megalomaniacal mouse was extremely used to teaching all of his family the same way. The only one who had ever required any sort of special instruction had been Feta, and he'd been able to see long enough that his visual impairment had never been detrimental in the classroom.

With his granddaughter, things were different. It was difficult to teach any of his grandchildren in the same classroom setting, their ages and learning levels vastly different, but he went through basics anyway and treated it like a one-room schoolhouse of old. But little Rosie was never present during those sessions; it just wasn't practical. She couldn't hear his instruction and she was still too small to follow the sign language at the speed with which he spoke. She couldn't hear her cousins and siblings asking their questions and with them all still learning to communicate with their hands, it would take even more time.

He ruled the world. He just couldn't spend all day in a classroom; it just wasn't practical, however much he would've liked to have them all together. He knew Rosie was lonely when all of her cousins were in a classroom, though he also knew she enjoyed the time she got with grandma all to herself. They didn't need to communicate properly to love, though he absolutely adored Pinky for trying as hard as he did.

He also knew that Rosie's brother, Neo, was excessively jealous of the one on one instruction his baby sister required, but there was simply no way to alter things. This worked and he just wished his grandson would learn to understand that. And perhaps he would one day.

But for now, they would just have to muddle through. And muddle they did, The Brain sighing when the little girl failed to subtract two digit numbers properly. Again. He gave her a nuzzle to assuage the threatening tears, the little girl as frustrated as he was, and continued on.

It wasn't easy, but it would be worth it.

050. Rebirth (472)

Another grandson. Even while she smiled, there was an ache in her heart that just wouldn't go away. It had been hanging there since her husband's sudden passing, would prod her at the oddest of moments. And it prodded her now, even though she truly was happy. He was just so cute. Pink and ugly, but just so cute in the way newborns tended to be. The little boy squeaked, his grandmother pressing a kiss to his wrinkled brow before passing him back to his mother. "Someone's hungry."

"That he is," she agreed, nuzzling the boy and adjusting him so he could eat properly.

"Mama, don't cry."

She turned her watery gaze on her son, felt that pang again. He just looked so much like his papa. Tall and dark-furred with eyes that just glittered with pride like they were now. His green cap was off, the five starred symbol of his rank settled atop his wife's head. For good reason, Brie would argue. "I'm not crying. I'm happy. I've got one year-old grandson and one newborn. Craziness."

"Happy crying is still crying, mama." Gene, the one child her Leuk had named, drew her out of her chair and into a tight hug.

"Happy crying is better than normal crying," she argued, wiping her eyes just to please him. She knew all of her children couldn't stand her tears. Even Bleu was still home with her family, which she was endlessly grateful for. It was just more loudness at the dinner table, drowning out the fact that her lover was absent.

"You can tell her not to cry all you want, lad. It's a grandmother's privilege and you'll not take it from her."

Brie let out a laugh, drawing out of the hug to smile at her daughter-in-law. "Myrna, have I told you lately that I love you?"

"I'm beginning to think you tell me more than your son does." She rocked the baby when he was done, pressing light kisses to his brow. "Oh, you'd best enjoy your time alone, laddie. Your sister's going to be so excited to see you come mornin'. She won't give you a moment's rest."

"It's a sister's privilege," Brie pointed out. "Trust me." She went over to the bed, stroking his tiny head gently. "What's his name, or haven't you come up with one yet?"

"Of course we came up with one." Myrna's smile softened, Brie's racing heart understanding before she did. She looked from her daughter-in-law to her son.

Gene stepped closer, wrapping an arm around his mother's waist. "His name's Leuk, mama."

"Oh... Oh, way to keep me from crying," she blubbered, pressing her face into her son's side while the tears began to fall. Gene held her tight, squeezed his eyes closed to keep his own at bay, and rocked her gently.

Next time:

Amused, Broken, Abused, Tranquil, Composed