Disclaimer: I do not own the play Cats, or the lyrics to Seasons of Love. This story contains references to slash relationships. Don't like it, just don't read it.
CatsSeasons of Love> > > > > >
525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear.
525,600 minutes - how do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In 525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in the life?
How about love? How about love? How about love?
Measure in love. Seasons of love.
525,600 minutes! 525,000 journeys to plan.
525,600 minutes - how can you measure
The life of a woman or man?
- Seasons of Love, from Rent
> > > > > >
December 7th, the Lighthouse Theatre, Nova Scotia
"This sucks!" Jessica said fiercely. "I wanted to go home for Christmas!"
Colin Walters, the director, held up his hands. "Don't shoot the messenger, I had plans of going to London, Ontario to spend Christmas with my daughter, but the investors think otherwise. Their theory is that we've got two stages, so we'll be using both of them over the holidays."
"I have plane tickets for Regina!"
"My family's all in Edmonton!"
"My parents were going to take me to Cuba!"
"I don't want to spend Chanukah as a walking shag rug!"
"What about Kwanza!"
"My grandparents are throwing a fling in Gander!"
"I was going home to Charlottetown for Winter Solstice!"
Caitlin Morgan, the assistant director, was silent. She herself had made plans to meet a few old friends in Montreal, but said nothing.
"There's got to be some kind of union thing against this!" Keith protested. "I mean, working on Christmas?"
"We're not working Christmas Day, but we well do shows on Christmas Eve and Boxing Day, as for the days leading up to it, so that includes Chanukah, Kwanza, and Solstice," Walters sighed, rubbing his temples. "I am very sorry, but it was not my decision."
The actors all filed out towards costume, fuming the entire way.
"I said it a minute ago, and now I'll say it again," growled Jessie. "This. Sucks."
John kicked a nearby box, causing a stagehand to squeak with dismay. "I want to go home to British Columbia! I could almost taste my mother's potato latkes…"
"I could nearly smell my mother's organic apple cider…" moaned Shelly.
Jessica heaved a sigh. "My grandfather's fish chowder…"
"My Cuban vacation!" protested Catherine, obviously not noticing everyone else's glare. "Now I'll have to go there on spring break, and Florida will have to wait until next Christmas!"
"I haven't seen my parents in six months!" scowled Tegan.
"I haven't seen his parents in six months!" added Keith, leaning on his boyfriend's shoulder.
"Miserable investors, they're all probably shipping off to the tropics," Shelly muttered. "Bunch of fat cats."
"Hey, watch it with the fat cat remarks," Jules warned, rather touchy about one of his characters.
"Sorry."
"But I'll agree, they don't seem to care about a lowly dancer such as yourself."
"You're just as lowly!"
"Well you're a female Mungojerrie!"
"Well you've got a receding hairline!"
"It is not receding!"
"Cool it, you two, we're all stuck here," sighed John. "Might as well make the best of it. Why don't we all meet here on Christmas Day? We've got nothing better to do, we can break out some eggnog, Keith has got a karaoke machine, we could make a party of it."
"Why not?" shrugged Tina. "Well, let us fools go where angels fear to tread…"
Someone pushed open the double doors that lead to the costuming and make-up department.
"Mistoffelees's jacket just blew up!"
"Where they hell is John? This costume isn't getting any lighter!"
"What has Keith been doing to this mane!"
"They got red nail polish on Tina's coat!"
"I am going to kill Jessie! Look at these pearls!"
"We're out of orange base!"
"I'm going to crack that spoon over Jules's hard head for wrecking that Gus wig!"
"I hate my life," Tegan sighed, and was suddenly yanked into a dressing room by the ear by a particularly vicious makeup artist in a particularly bad mood.
"Loser," chuckled John, before someone threw his Old Deuteronomy costume at him, nearly breaking his back in the process.
"You're not here to fool around, Swenson!" snapped Caitlin, walking by. "Get that costume on, there's only forty-five minutes until the curtain goes up!"
"And may the love of the season fill you, too," he muttered, scowling. "Miserable tyrant."
A few streets away from the theatre, a queen cat licked at her swollen stomach. She would deliver soon, in about two weeks. Maybe less. She gave a shiver. If only she could find someplace warm…
December 24th, Christmas Eve
"A cat's entitled to expect such evidences of respect! So this is this! And that is that! And there's how you address a cat!"
"Beautiful show!" congratulated Walters as the actors returned from final bows. "Which, by our standards, means that nothing blew up during it."
After he left, some of the cast assembled. Keith, Tegan, Shelly, Jessie, Jules, John, and Gwen. Rum Tum Tugger, Mistoffelees, Mungojerrie, Rumpelteazer, Bustopher Jones/Gus, and Exotica.
"So, that party still on for tomorrow?" Keith questioned.
Jules nodded. "Yep, I've got a key to the theatre and Walters' permission."
"Are we going to invite… you know…" Jessie started slowly. "… Morgan?"
"Why would we?" shrugged John. "She hates us. She hates everyone."
"Not true. I happen to be very fond of Gwen."
Everyone jumped higher than Macavity, and Keith fell into John, knocking him over onto the floor. The blond actor struggled about, trying to keep from smothering himself in his costume.
"Gwen never talks and cowers at everything you say!" reported Jessie, frowning. "No wonder you like her!"
Halley cast a disapproving look at Keith and John. "Get up, you two. You're getting the costumes dirty."
Gwen and Tegan gave both a hand up, and John brushed off the furry coat.
"I don't know why you have to such a Scrooge all of the time!" Shelly scowled. "We didn't do anything to you, so lay off of us! After all, it's Christmas Eve!"
"Yeah, and if you keep that up, Santa's going to leave you a stocking full of coal," sniffed Keith.
Her frown deepened. "I'm Jewish," she snapped, before storming off.
"Yeah? Well Mozel Toff to you, too, you cranky bit…" Tegan clapped a hand over his boyfriend's mouth.
"Do you want to get us fired?" he asked, releasing him.
"Sorry," he muttered. "But what the hell is wrong with her!"
"I think her heart is three sizes too small…" Jules sighed. "Best ignore her. Come on, it's Christmas Eve, and she's not worth our time."
"What a Scrooge…" sighed Mistoffelees, doing several ballet jumps and spinning into Keith's arms.
"Bustopher's right," Jessica nodded. "Besides… Shelly, I've got a bottle of white wine…"
She giggled, and the two left quickly to get out of their costumes and to get home as fast as they could.
"Er, that reminds us…" Keith grabbed Tegan's arm, and they both bolted for the door.
John hung his head. "I feel so lonely…"
Jules took several steps back. "Don't look at me."
"I wasn't. I was looking at Gwen."
The dark dancer frowned, gave him a push, and left for the costume department.
He stumbled backwards, tripped over a box, and lay sprawled on the floor.
The older actor chuckled. "Hey, now you really do look like a shag rug."
"Not funny!" he moaned.
Late that night, when the last janitor had left, the queen hobbled into the theatre through a door someone had forgotten to lock. She gave birth to four kittens in the hallway.
A small feline smile crept over her face as she cleaned and nursed her newborns, but at the same time she was deeply troubled. It was too cold to keep them here.
Making sure they were as comfortable as possible, she ventured further into the dark theatre in search of something her kits could nest in or on. She wandered into a out-of-the-way costume storage, and her eyes widened at a costume that had fallen off of its hanger (not for the first time).
She buried her face in it and gave a purr. It was perfect! Long yarn and thick fabric made up a warm and comfortable bed. She couldn't have wished for anything better.
The cat carried the kittens one by one to their new bed and finally snuggled down beside them and drifted off to sleep.
December 25th, Christmas Day
"Oh for the days of something something and something something away! Let all re-somethings be forgot and something brought to mind!"
"And how much nog has he got in him?" whispered Jessie to Tegan.
"None," was his reply. "Keith's father drank like an alcoholic fish, so he never touches the stuff. He's just crazy. And stupid. Crazy and stupid. And sexy, can't forget sexy…"
Shelly rolled her eyes, taking another swing of punch. It wasn't spiked, but it was loaded with sugar. And for teenagers and actors, sugar was as bad as or worse than alcohol or any type of drug.
John was dancing with Gwen to the Moulin Rouge soundtrack, Richard (Macavity) was attempting to sing an odd blend of every Spice Girls song he knew, and Fen (Jennyanydots), Gabby (Tantomile), and Lauren (Electra) had all ganged up on Harrison (Skimbleshanks), and were attempting to bring him down with several bouncy balls and a triangle attack pattern.
Suddenly, a cry rang out. "Damn you, tom! I must defend my honour!" Before anyone knew what was happening, John and Jules were having a Jedi fight with Bustopher's spoon and one of the cockroaches' fork.
"Jules tipped over his punch," whispered Gwen to Richard.
"Ah." was his only reply.
John gave a triumphant laugh, knocking the spoon from Jules's hand in a way that would have made any stagehand practically weep. "Bustopher Jones, before I kill you, you must know this! I am your father's sister's second cousin's half-brother's ex-roommate! Four times removed!"
"And that makes us…"
"Absolutely nothing!" He rapped him on the head with the fork, and was given a sharp kick in the shins. "Ow! Damn it! Now I'm really going to need you to help me around the stage, Ash."
Ash, Munkustrap, just gave a snort. "You can drag your own furry butt around, geezer!"
"Hey, I'm younger than you are!"
"By about a month!"
"What the hell are these things?" asked Richard, poking at something flat. "Rolled out French fries?"
"Those are potato latkes, dumb ass," Sarah, Jemima, replied, giving the Rum Tum Tugger a harder poke. "It's a Jewish tradition. It's after Chanukah, but I thought I'd make them anyway."
"Yum! What are these?" asked Jules, licking his lips as he bit into something that looked like onion rings. "Some sort of root vegetable?"
"That's squid," grinned Jessie. "Newfoundland recipe."
He nearly choked, coughing and spluttering into a napkin.
"Good noodles," complimented Fern, Jennyanydots. "Did you cook them, Tegan?"
Mistoffelees snorted. "I wish. I can't cook for crap. Keith made them, a Greek dish that his mother gave to him."
The olive-skinned dancer gave the woman a suggestive wink.
"If you weren't gay I'd have to slap you," she replied, not able to hide a smile.
"Who made the almond cookies!" shouted out a voice.
"Me!" Gwen squeaked shyly. "My mom always made them for Kwanza."
"And I managed to make a crude replica of my family's Solstice cider!" proclaimed Shelly, holding up a glass.
"Oh, so now you pull together a little teamwork. Seems like a lot less fighting now than there usually is backstage."
Everyone turned to the door to see Caitlin Morgan.
She held up her hands. "I'm not here to crash your party. I left my cell phone here last night, and came to get it. I have my own key. I didn't know you'd be here. I trust you got Mr. Walter's permission?"
Jules nodded slowly.
"I'll just get my phone from my office and be off, then." With that, she walked swiftly to her office, a blanket of silence left in her wake.
Keith gave a shiver. "Man, she creeps me out."
John gave a shrug. "Well, what are you going to do?" He paused. "Damn, I left my watch in the storage room. Might as well go get it." He headed off.
The queen cat lifted her head sleepily as the door widened with a slight squeak. She gave a hiss, but after sensing not danger settled back down to nurse her kittens.
"Oh my god…" whispered the actor, his breath catching in his throat. "Guys! Come look at this!"
The dancers slowly crowded around the doorway. There they were, an orange tabby and four kittens, all nested in the Old Deuteronomy costume. Two kits were the same colour as their mother, while the other two where tuxedoed in black and white.
"Kitties!" Angie, Victoria, quietly exclaimed
"They're so cute!" squealed Sarah.
"Did you have to do that right in my ear…?" moaned Jules.
"She must be a stray, no collar!" noted Shelly.
"We should name them!" nodded Jessie.
"Two toms and two queens, one of each pattern," John smiled. "I say we name the two toms Chanukah and Kwanza, and the queens Christmas and Solstice!"
"And the mother?" questioned Tegan.
"Deuteronoma!" Keith shouted out.
"That's stupid!" insisted Fen. "I say Hermione, the queen in Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale!"
"Yeah!"
"Agreed!"
"Isn't that from Harry Potter or something?"
"Shut up, moron."
"You shut up!"
"Hermione it is!" proclaimed Thomas. "As the Jellicle leader, I dub these cats Hermione, Chanukah, Kwanza, Christmas, and Solstice!"
"But where are they going to live?" Gwen inquired. "They can't stay in the theatre, and we all live in apartments… Does anyone's building allow pets?"
"Mine does."
For the second time that day, they turned to see Caitlin.
"I heard the noise, and came to see what was going on," she admitted. "I can take all five of them, the landlord doesn't mind."
"You want to adopt five cats?" John asked, surprised.
She gave a shrug. "I like animals."
Fen clapped her hands together. "Then that's settled! Let's continue the party! Maybe a little quieter, so we don't disturb the newborns."
"Hey, Mor… Caitlin!" Jessica said. "Want to stay and hang out?"
"Well… Sure, if you want me here."
"'Course we do! You're part of the play, too!" grinned Shelly. "Maybe you're not such a bitch after all!"
She gave a long sigh. "I'm going to let that one slide, Tugger."
Jules gave the assistant director a light elbow in the ribs. "Feel your heart growing any, Scrooge?"
"You, on the other hand, are on coffee duty for a week."
The actor gave a huff, stalking off.
"Mistoffelees, this has been the best Christmas in a while," sighed Keith, draping himself over his shorter boyfriend's shoulders.
Tegan leaned his head back, arching his leg and kissing him lightly on the lips. "You got that right, Tugger."
> > > > > >
In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried.
In bridges he burned, or the way that she died.
It's time now to sing out, though the story never ends let's celebrate remember a year in the life of friends. Remember the love! Remember the love!
Remember the love! Measure in love.
Seasons of love! Seasons of love.
> > > > > >
Happy Holidays, all.