Mysterious Ways
Here's that lengthier chapter I promised. Lots of fuzzy-wuzzy exposition and fluffy stuffs here.
Prifdinnas: congratulations on getting married today! This isn't quite the catfight you wanted, but hopefully the little scene below will satisfy your yen for some Misto and Bomba interaction. the1andonlyofo, could it be, indeed? I wonder why he'd be interested? shikyoDEATH, I've heard those theories too, and while I do like them, it won't be coming up in this particular story. But the magic will come into play, you'll see! HGP, creepy indeed! I wonder what got his attention?
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 is my creation. I suppose I share rights to the seven kittens with Eliot/Webber, who suggested they existed in the first place.
A huge thank-you to CrazyIndigoChild for being my beta-reader!
10. Tricks with a Cork
"Well?" Mistoffelees nervously asked. "How many do you-"
"Sshh!" Jenny hissed. "When you speak, I can't hear what's going on in here."
Mistoffelees clamped his mouth shut, though it was difficult not to squirm or vocalize as Jenny kneaded his growing belly and pressed her ear to it, feeling for the shapes of the kittens and listening for anything important. Only a few seemingly short weeks had passed since the discovery that he was carrying kits, and already they had grown so much that there was a visible curve to his stomach.
He didn't think he looked that big, really—maybe just as though he'd eaten a bit too much dinner—but Jellylorum had spotted him the night before, and after seeing how he'd grown, had commented that the kits were either very big, or there were a lot of them, and now he was anxious to find out exactly how many there could be.
The news of the pregnancy had spread quickly throughout the junkyard. Instead of seeking everyone out for an official announcement, Tugger and Mistoffelees had deemed it easier to just tell Jenny, Jellylorum and Jezebel that they were free to speak about it.
Within an hour, every Jellicle knew about the kittens; most had tentatively come knocking by their den to offer congratulations, to incredulously ask if it was true, or just to see what a pregnant tom was like.
There definitely came a change in how the Jellicles acted around him and Tugger. The young queens, with the exception of Bombalurina who had all but gone into mourning at the official loss of her beloved Tugger, had become even more excited to be around their idol and his mate, with the promise of brand-new kits to come. The older cats had been suitably stunned, made quite sure that this wasn't some silly joke or prank, and then embraced the news with enthusiasm.
The only detractors had been the young toms, who now warily stared at Mistoffelees whenever their paths crossed and avoided him as much as possible, especially now that he was visibly expecting.
Tugger, of course, was now gaining an entirely new level of respect, as befitting the cat who broke the laws of nature and managed to impregnate his tom mate. He thoroughly enjoyed his new reputation, and the attention that went alongside it. Well, as long as it deflected a bit of the attention away from him, Mistoffelees was happy.
Mistoffelees was brought back to the present as Jenny's kneading became increasingly uncomfortable. He knew she was trying to count how many shapes she could feel in there, but she had begun pressing into his belly so hard he wondered if the kits were getting squashed.
And then she pressed against something else that was currently being squashed by the kittens, to his dismay. He couldn't help it, and yelped and squirmed uncomfortably under the pressure.
Jenny caught on and removed her hands, to his partial relief, and gently nuzzled his stomach before rising up. "If you think that's bad, wait until the kittens themselves start bouncing around on your bladder," she said with a laugh. "Do you need to go out for a few minutes?"
"I can wait," Mistoffelees said. He gingerly sat up on Jenny's bed, grateful when she offered him a hand. He really did need to go, but there was something even more pressing he wanted first. "So… how many do you think?"
"There's at least six in there," Jenny said. "Most likely seven, but I can't be sure until they're a little bigger."
"Seven!" Mistoffelees cried. He numbly placed a hand over the curve of his belly. Would there even be room for seven kits in there? It already felt so crowded. "I wasn't expecting so many."
"I've got to hand it to Tugger," Jenny said airily. "When he does something, he does it right."
"Everlasting," Mistoffelees moaned in embarrassment, hiding his face at the queen's comment.
"Now don't fret," Jenny tittered. "As far as I can tell, the kittens are a good size and they're growing just fine. If everything keeps going well, they'll be ready to be born by mid-summer. And how have you been feeling, my dear?"
"A little uncomfortable," Mistoffelees admitted. "It's difficult to adjust to the extra, er, weight. My sense of balance has been off."
"Yes, it would be different for you, since you don't have the shape of a queen," Jenny said sympathetically. "And you are rather small, to be carrying such a large litter; I'm afraid the discomfort will increase as the kits grow. I imagine dancing has been difficult?"
Mistoffelees sighed in agreement. He had tried dancing here and there, unwilling to let his skills go to waste even if he was pregnant. It had been easy enough in the beginning, but ever since the kits had begun to grow bigger and show themselves, he had found dancing to be difficult, if not outright dangerous. Just last week, he had attempted a pirouette, which made him lose his precious balance and fall into Tugger's arms. The extra weight also made his back and legs ache, but a bit of attention from Tugger's strong hands helped take those particular pains away.
"Are you still feeling sick to your stomach?" Jenny asked.
"Not so much, but it's difficult to eat sometimes."
She patted his shoulder. "It will pass. It usually does; and then you'll be hungry for rats all the time. Which will be good, since you could stand to put on a bit more weight." All of a sudden, the queen got a terribly innocent look in her eyes. "What about mating? Has it been uncomfortable?"
Mistoffelees averted his gaze, blushing furiously. "I-I… we haven't really… not since we found out…"
"Oh! Well, it's perfectly safe for the kits, as long as you tell Tugger to take it slowly and carefully. In fact, a bit of gentle mating can be quite healthy!"
"Thank you," Mistoffelees mumbled, terribly interested in staring down at his belly again.
"Now, then," Jenny said, with a small cough that sounded suspiciously like a giggle. She turned her back to him and gave a good look to the jumble piled up in her den. "There is something I wanted to give you. Let me see now… I swear this den turns into a disaster area when Skimble isn't around to tidy up! I can never find anything…"
There was a shelf packed high with little baskets and boxes, and Jenny began rummaging through the containers, pulling down baskets and digging through them in her hunt for something.
Mistoffelees let her search, still looking down at his stomach. Seven kittens. He was fairly sure Tugger was going to strut around insufferably once he heard the news. With seven kittens to carry around until mid-summer, he was going to be an ungainly mess by then. Jenny was right; he wasn't shaped like a queen, and the balance issue wasn't the only concern he had about it.
"Jenny," Mistoffelees softly said. "How do you suppose the kits are going to come out?"
Mistoffelees could see her hesitation as she went still for a moment, her hand poised on the edge of a shoebox. Obviously it was something she had pondered as well, but clearly had no better ideas than he did.
"I'm not sure yet," she admitted. "We'll have to wait and see. Your magic helped create these kits; I'm sure it will also help in their birth. Let's take it one step at a time, shall we?"
"But what if-"
"I won't have you worry about such things now," she said, pulling the shoebox with her as she went back to sit next to Mistoffelees on the bed. "We have ways of helping queens when they can't give birth the traditional way. Everything will be fine. Now here, let me give you… oh, where is it now?"
Jenny muttered to herself as she pulled the large shoebox into her lap and practically tossed out its contents, pulling out forks and ribbons and bits of yarn until she happened upon her goal. "Ah!"
She pulled a tiny cork out of the box. It had been decorated; four pieces of wire had been stuck to the underside of the cork, one end had little dots and triangles of felt glued onto it, and the other end had a piece of white ribbon tied around it. It looked like a little cat.
"This is perfect," Jenny said, beaming. "I had my mice try some arts and crafts a while ago. This is one of the Jellicles they made. And it's just about the same size as your kits are now, so this should give you a good idea."
She handed Mistoffelees the cork-kitten; it was a little larger than the palm of his hand, and though its tiny features were crudely replicated, it really did look like a little kitten. To think that seven of those little things were inside him at the moment was astounding.
"Thank you, Jenny," he said, staring at the little cork.
"Now listen," Jenny said, reaching over to gently pat his stomach. "When you start to feel birthing pains, or anything that feels like the kits are trying to come, you come find me. If you can't, then go to Jezebel or Jellylorum, or even Skimble if you have to."
"Skimble? Why him?"
"He helped me deliver my last litter. They were coming too quickly, and he was the only one there with me. One of them even came out tail-first! He did a wonderful job, I have to say."
"Good to know," Mistoffelees said. Jenny was right; he had to take this entire situation one step at a time, or else he was going to drive himself mad with worry about what was going to happen at the birth.
"We're done here, love," Jenny said, smiling warmly. "I'll check on you again soon. For now, go on out back, before you wet my bed."
Mistoffelees nodded sheepishly; his attention had been so focused on thoughts of the birth that he hadn't realized he'd been squirming again. "Thanks, Jenny," he said, quickly tottering off to the back of her den. He held the little cork-kit securely in his hand, as though it were a precious new charge.
When Mistoffelees finally left Jenny's den, feeling at once much more relieved but also much more preoccupied with the news of the seven kits to come, he nearly tripped over the gathering of Jellicles. He was beginning to amass his own little fan club; or rather, his kits were.
It seemed as though every young queen was patiently waiting for him just outside the steps of Jenny's den. To Mistoffelees' surprise, even Tumblebrutus was there with them; either he had gotten over his discomfort over his tom friend being pregnant, or the young queens had beaten some enthusiasm into him. They certainly had enthusiasm to spare; Mistoffelees wondered if their interest had anything to do with them dreaming of their own kits, once they became old enough.
He quickly scanned the crowd and found Tugger, leaning against an upturned oven and anxiously looking towards his mate. Mistoffelees could tell he was dying to run over and hear what Jenny had told him, but still didn't interfere with the attention that was on him. Coming from Tugger, deferring the spotlight was a most selfless gesture.
Especially since, as Mistoffelees' gaze went out across the junkyard, the entire tribe seemed to be waiting out there for him. Every single cat, from the kits to the adults, were trying their best to look as though they had just casually strolled by and happened to notice Mistoffelees was standing there. Even Munkustrap and Demeter hung around the outer edge of the group, politely trying to appear as though they weren't. Jellylorum and Jezebel stood by the gathered kits, whispering to each other and smiling broadly.
The only one missing was Old Deuteronomy; Munkustrap had gone to the village to inform him of the pregnancy a few days ago, and so Mistoffelees had the strange intuition that it wouldn't be long before the old patriarch dropped by to visit the soon-to-be-new additions to his tribe.
"Well?" Victoria finally asked, smiling primly. "Did Jenny say how many?
"Six, maybe seven kittens," Mistoffelees said. He looked over to Tugger as he made the announcement. His mate's reaction did not disappoint; he grinned wildly and all but puffed out his chest, glancing around as though expecting a spotlight to shine down.
There came impressed murmurs from the others. Almost immediately, Jellylorum and Jezebel dove for Jenny's den, whispering congratulations as they passed him.
"Seven!" Etcetera squealed. "That is so great! Will you name one after me?"
"He can't do that!" Tumblebrutus said, gently cuffing her on the shoulder. "Jellicles can't share names, not until they've gone to the Heaviside Layer."
Tumblebrutus was right. And Mistoffelees couldn't help it; at the mention of the Heaviside Layer, he glanced over the dispersing crowd and searched for Demeter. She was watching the kittens interact with him from afar, but was quietly whispering with Munkustrap, and had not overheard that part of the conversation.
He thought about going to her. There was something quite important he wanted to ask, but it was difficult to leave now that he was the centre of attention. In fact, before he could think of an excuse to remove himself, he felt Electra gently pawing at his arm.
"Misto, what is that?" she asked, looking down at the little cork-kitten in his hand.
"This?" he said, holding up the cork. He grinned as an idea came to mind. "This is one of my kits. It decided to be born early."
"No it isn't!" Etcetera giggled. The other kits laughed, though Jemima looked a little unsure as to whether or not he was joking. "That's not what new kits look like!"
"It is!" Mistoffelees said. He was enjoying himself far too much as he held out his palm flat, so that the cork-kitten was standing in his hand. "Look, it's already dancing!"
It had become surprisingly easy to perform a few tricks; he hadn't told Jenny about his magic, knowing she would have sternly instructed him to rest, but he felt more focused and energized than ever. Normally, the small feat of levitating a spoon would have taken a decent amount of concentration.
Now, all he had to do was give the cork-kitten a little push of his mind, and it floated a few inches above his palm. Another mental nudge, and it began to spin on its stiff little hind legs, the ribbon-tail twirling about.
The assembled kits shrieked in delight and awe. Even the remaining older Jellicles murmured appreciatively at the trick. This sort of trick should have been draining, but oddly enough Mistoffelees felt strong and daring enough to see how far he could push the magic.
Keeping his eyes fastened on the cork-kitten, Mistoffelees sent it a little extra will, and it departed from his palm, spinning around in the air as it levitated from him to the crowd of young queens.
With a twitch of his nose, he made the cork-kitten somersault once in the air, and then made it float to the ground in the middle of the semi-circle of cats.
"Misto, that's amazing!" Victoria gasped, looking from the cork-kitten to Mistoffelees and back. None of them dared to touch the little makeshift Jellicle.
"But it's not me!" Mistoffelees said, putting in all the dramatic performance he had learned from Tugger. "I told you, it's the kitten doing the magic. See?"
It was risky, he knew, to attempt a magic trick he had never tried before, or even knew if it was possible, but he felt exhilarated enough to try. His magic had never been stronger, and he had never felt better while using it. Maybe the kits were helping out, making him more focused. Everlasting! What if the kits were magical too? All seven of them?
Enough. He needed concentration. To his surprise, it only took a tiny bit of mental energy to make the cork-kitten disappear in a small puff of blue light.
The queens gasped in delight, and their reactions intensified at the sight of another blue puff of light, in Mistoffelees' palm, and suddenly the cork-kitten was nestled in his hand again.
There came titters and applause from the young queens, and even from the other cats who had stuck around to watch his little show. This, Mistoffelees mused, was much easier to deal with. He could handle attention for his magic; especially when it deflected attention away from his pregnancy. He would have to come up with some fairly amazing tricks before mid-summer, though, if he was going to distract everyone from his growing self.
"All right, ladies," Tugger said, parting the crowd and gently shooing the kits away. "That's quite enough for today. If you don't mind, I'd like to get Mistoffelees for a private encore."
The young queens moaned in disappointment, but nonetheless obeyed their idol. Victoria, Electra and Etcetera quickly reached over to nuzzle Mistoffelees before leaving; it was obviously they wanted to touch his belly too, but managed to refrain. Jemima only gave him a shy smile before leaving, as did Tumblebrutus. Mistoffelees watched the small procession move away, following Tugger like ducklings as they giggled and fawned.
"It's hardly appropriate, you know."
Mistoffelees flinched at the cold voice behind himself. He turned about—a little more slowly than usual, thanks to his extra weight—to see Bombalurina staring down at him over her nose. She hadn't spoken two words to him since the Jellicle Ball, and had had nothing but icy looks for him since the announcement of his pregnancy.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"Using your magic like that."
"What, like this?" Mistoffelees innocently said, holding up the cork-kitten. "This was just a little trick to amuse the kits."
"Not that," Bombalurina snapped. She pointed towards his swelling stomach. "I mean this. It was a rotten trick you did, just to ensnare Tugger."
Mistoffelees bristled. "I didn't ensnare him. We chose to be mates."
"Rumor has it, Tugger didn't exactly choose this," she said smugly. "Is that wrong?"
"Well, that's…" Mistoffelees stammered. "That's not exactly true."
"I know for a fact that he never wanted kittens," Bombalurina continued, taking a step towards him. "It's not proper for a queen to intentionally become pregnant to trap a mate, and it's especially not proper for a tom to use magic to do it. It wasn't fair for you to take Tugger away like that."
"You don't own him," he hissed. "You never had any claim to him. Tugger is happy exactly where he is, so why don't you go chase another mouse, Bombalurina?"
She hissed back at him, and out of the corner of his eye Mistoffelees could see her claws twitching. Bombalurina was tall for a queen and left him feeling a little intimated as she loomed over him, though the magic began to prickle in his hands as a response and he was fully prepared to defend his kittens from her if needed.
"Finally!" Tugger huffed, a little louder than necessary as he walked back towards the two standing-off cats. "Those little ones are persistent. Why hello, Bomba; I see you were just leaving us?"
Tugger ran a hand down his mate's back and pulled him close. Mistoffelees wasn't sure how much of the exchange Tugger had seen or heard, but he clearly knew enough to be politely and firmly chasing Bombalurina away. The red queen gave Mistoffelees a quick glare and sighed as she turned tail and stomped away.
Relieved, Mistoffelees sank into Tugger's mane. "Thank you."
"Whatever she said to you, just ignore her," Tugger said, giving him a quick nuzzle. "She was never good at letting go of what she couldn't have."
Mistoffelees only nodded quietly.
"That was quite the little show you just put on for everyone, by the way."
"Sorry," Mistoffelees said, a bit embarrassed. "It's just that… my magic's been easier to do lately and… at least it distracted everyone from the real kits."
"Never apologize for putting on a show," Tugger grinned. "I don't. Never have. Speaking of which…" He reached down, placing a warm, possessive hand on the swell of Mistoffelees' stomach. "Seven kittens, eh?"
"Seven," Mistoffelees said. "Tug, you… you are happy about them, right? Even if this happened by accident?"
Tugger frowned slightly. "Of course. Why would you ask me that?"
"No reason," Mistoffelees muttered. "You know, I'm going to become gigantic."
"I suppose I'll have to start rolling you around the junkyard soon," Tugger said. "I'll be mindful, though; I'd hate for you to roll under a junk pile and get stuck."
"Thank you."
Moving his hand from his mate's belly to his hand, Tugger plucked the little cork-kitten from Mistoffelees' grasp and held it up to examine it. His expression turned serious for a moment. "Did you ask Jenny how-?"
Mistoffelees sighed and leaned in to rest his head against Tugger's mane; maybe the tricks had drained him more than he realized, he was beginning to feel tired. Or maybe the brief run-in with Bombalurina had done it. "She doesn't have any idea yet how they're going to be born. We'll have to see, I suppose."
"Well," Tugger said, pulling on the white ribbon-tail. "Maybe you can just magic them out, like you did with this one."
Mistoffelees huffed a small laugh, feathering Tugger's mane with his breath. Suddenly, a presence began to prickle at the back of his mind and he lifted his head from Tugger's chest, peering out at the junkyard.
"What is it?" Tugger asked.
"Old Deuteronomy is coming," Mistoffelees said with a nervous smile, pulling away from his mate and straightening himself out.
"He is? Where?" Tugger gave himself a quick once-over, smoothing over his fur and fluffing up his mane. Amused, Mistoffelees rolled his eyes; with the exception of his mate, Old Deuteronomy was the only cat for whom Tugger really cared to make a good impression.
"He'll be here in a few minutes. Don't worry, you look gorgeous."
His perception had been correct; as he and Tugger walked toward the junkyard clearing, Mistoffelees spotted Coricopat and Tantomile slowly approaching; the twins nodded to him from afar, as though they had been searching for him specifically to inform him of Old Deuteronomy's imminent arrival. Mistoffelees smiled and nodded back.
He quickly grew nervous; Old Deuteronomy was loving and affectionate, but Mistoffelees had still not gotten past his kittenhood apprehension about the Jellicle leader. It had been easy to avoid stammering and making a fool of himself, as the other Jellicles were usually clambering all over their beloved leader, giving Mistoffelees plenty of room to hide. But he would have no such luck this time; he knew Old Deuteronomy was here to look in on him specifically, and his future grandkits.
Mistoffelees was somewhat fearful of Old Deuteronomy's reaction; Munkustrap had returned from the village after announcing the news and reported that Old Deuteronomy was thrilled, but Mistoffelees couldn't help but have doubt.
He had seen how some of the Jellicles looked at him, especially in the beginning; most were happy about his condition and happy to welcome new kittens into the community, but the strange looks came anyway, as did the gossiping about how this could have come to pass, the rumors and the theories about how this happened. He only hoped Old Deuteronomy wouldn't have strange looks of his own to give him.
Mistoffelees suddenly straightened up. Even if he hadn't been able to sense Old Deuteronomy's presence, the sudden excited yells would have been signal enough. Etcetera and Victoria had spotted him arriving, perched as they were on top of a tall pile of broken wooden furniture, and sure enough Old Deuteronomy was slowly ambling over, aided on one side by Munkustrap.
Mistoffelees couldn't help it; he leaned into Tugger slightly and smiled wanly as Munkustrap spotted him and pointed him out to his father, directing the old cat towards him.
"Don't be nervous," Tugger said, giving him a little push. "He made the trip just to see you."
"That's why I'm nervous," Mistoffelees whispered, and rubbed his stomach. "I think I feel nauseous again."
"Whatever you do, please don't hack up on my father," Tugger whispered into his ear. "Though I will say, you otherwise have perfect timing."
"What?" Mistoffelees frowned at his mate, but understood as Tugger stroked the fur of his arm, making him look down at himself. He had started glowing again. "Oh, brilliant."
Mistoffelees placed his hands protectively over his stomach and bowed slightly as Old Deuteronomy approached, a merry look in his eyes. Beside him, Tugger did the same.
Old Deuteronomy then opened his arms wide. Unable to resist the warm invitation, Mistoffelees sank into the embrace, feeling the rumbling chuckles through the thick furry chest.
"Astounding," Old Deuteronomy said, pulling away slightly from the hug. He placed his large hands on Mistoffelees' shoulders and gave him a long look, staring down at the small swell of his stomach with a brightness in his eyes. "A fitting miracle, from the magician among us. And from his mate." At that, Old Deuteronomy gave Tugger a rather knowing look. Tugger returned the gesture with a grin.
"Now if you wouldn't mind, my son," Old Deuteronomy said. "I would like to speak with Mistoffelees for a few moments."
Mistoffelees tried to keep his anxiety from showing as Tugger politely obeyed his father, nuzzling his mate comfortingly before leaving the two alone.
"To think, it seems you were just a newborn kit yourself, not so long ago," Old Deuteronomy warmly said. "You have a literal glow about you, little one."
"Thank you," Mistoffelees said, shyly ducking his head. "We think my magic did something mysterious at the Jellicle Ball."
"Magic should always work in mysterious ways!" the old cat said. "Especially when it brings about such wonderful and unexpected things."
Mistoffelees couldn't help it; his shoulders slumped as his breathing grew easier and the earlier hint of nausea dissipated. The action was not lost on Old Deuteronomy.
"You seem relieved."
"I worried that you would be…" Mistoffelees' whiskers twitched as he tried to find the right word. "Disconcerted about how these kits came about."
"The arrival of new kittens is always a cause for celebration, no matter how mysteriously they've come about," Old Deuteronomy said, smiling broadly. "I imagine dear Jennyanydots has been bustling about you."
"She certainly has," Mistoffelees smiled.
"Has she figured out when the new additions are due?"
"They should be born by mid-summer."
"Mid-summer!" Old Deuteronomy beamed. "A wonderful time to welcome new kittens."
Mistoffelees ducked his head again, laying a contemplative hand on his stomach.
"Sir… has anything like this ever happened before in our tribe? To any Jellicle tom?"
"Not in any of my lifetimes," Old Deuteronomy admitted. "But we are Jellicles, Mistoffelees. And we're quite renowned for making the impossible happen."
Mistoffelees nodded quietly. To his surprise, Old Deuteronomy stepped closer, placing a broad, furry arm around the smaller tom's shoulders. "And the impossible is frightening," the old cat said, softening his tone. "But all that matters is that you can find happiness despite the fear. Can you?"
"Yes," Mistoffelees said. The hug was comforting and he leaned into Old Deuteronomy's arm, grateful for the words. "I can."
"Then all will be well, I promise you," Old Deuteronomy said. He tightened his embrace around Mistoffelees' shoulders and began to lead him towards the tire. "Now come; Rum Tum Tugger was a boisterous kitten, and I feel you must be suitably warned before these little ones come along."
They sat together and spoke for a good long while. By the time Old Deuteronomy finished recounting the tale of how a weeks-old Tugger had managed to toddle away from his littermates and become trapped upside-down by his tail in a junk pile, leaving Mistoffelees breathless with laughter, he wondered why he had ever felt so apprehensive about the Jellicle leader.
Tugger stood apart, giving his mate and Old Deuteronomy plenty of room for a private conversation. It was comforting to see Mistoffelees slowly relax in the old patriarch's presence. He imagined his father would want a few words with him as well once he was done with Mistoffelees—surely something about being a proper, responsible father and loving his kits. Things that didn't need to be said, of course, but that were shared nonetheless.
He looked down at the cork-kitten in his hands, poking at the little wire-legs. He wondered what sort of words his mate was receiving from Old Deuteronomy.
"There he is!" came Skimble's cheerful voice, breaking Tugger from his thoughts. The orange tom was rapidly approaching him, followed by the elderly Gus.
"Seven kittens, eh?" Gus said. He slapped Tugger's back with a merry laugh. "That's quite the feat! Not that I haven't got my fair share of little ones running about, you know!"
"I'm sure," Tugger said with a cough. Gus may have been getting on in years, but there was nothing feeble about that slap. "Bet none of you ever thought I'd become a father."
"Oh, to the contrary!" Skimble said. "We all figured you'd sire some kits sooner or later. Law of averages and all that. Nobody thought it would happen this way, but, well—things happen as they will, I always say!"
Tugger rolled his eyes. He was almost relieved when Pouncival leapt down from the top of the broken furniture pile and provided a distraction; the kit was taken aback when he realized he'd landed in front of the three older toms. He stared up at Tugger for a few moments, then glanced towards Skimble, as though he desperately wanted to ask something.
"Something on your mind, lad?" Skimble asked.
Pouncival looked nervously from Tugger to Gus to Skimble again. "Jenny said that Misto was a special case, but… are we… are we going to get pregnant too? The other toms, I mean."
Bristling, Tugger leaned down and narrowed his eyes at Pouncival. "Only if you get too close to me."
The look of abject terror in Pouncival's eyes was oddly satisfying, Tugger mused, as he watched the young tom slink away as quickly as he had come. That should result in a few interesting rumors over the next few days.
Gus shook his head. "You're a right bastard, you know that?"
"Wait until there's seven of me running around."
"Oh no, you'll be the one dealing with seven little Tuggers running around!" Skimble laughed. "Which reminds me…"
The ginger cat patted the front of his brown vest and then reached into an inside pocket, pulling a small glass bottle filled with amber liquid. "Here you go."
Tugger took the bottle, examining it curiously. "What is it?"
"Scotch. Use it wisely now, you hear?"
Yeah, mostly fluff, and a tiny bit of angst. What can I say, seven kittens bring out the fuzzy side of me.