Disclaimer: I do not own CATS or any of the characters/songs associated with it. They are the property of T.S. Eliot, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and the Really Useful Group. I however own little Jemeerle (Jem-eer-la ).
Author's note:Because I had some reviews saying this didn't seem like it was finished, I'm altering it so in fact, the oneshot fic is now going to become a full fan fiction. And PLEASE NO MORE NIT-PICKING ABOUT THE KITTEN'S NAME.

Chapter Two
A New Day Has Begun

When the dawn rose up high over London that chilly October morning, it did not rise in the heart of Jemima the Moonlight Cat. Last night had been the death of her mate, and a horrible death at that. He had died to save the Jellicle Leader's son, Munkustrap, and the rest of the tribe, from being destroyed by the Hidden Paw. He'd won too, but his wounds were too deep and fatal. Unfortunately, it was not just Jemima that he had left behind, but their kitten Jemeerle too. It would now fall up to Jemima to raise the darling little queen on her own, possibly with the help of her mother, JennyAnyDots, her father, Skimbleshanks, and her two sisters, Demeter and Bombalurina. Somehow, she doubted the latter choice would help, after all, she spent most of her time going after the choice tomcat in all the junkyard, The Rum Tum Tugger. But, perhaps he would help her, he was after all, named Jemeerle's Godfather by Mistoffelees at her birth. She prayed that The Tugger would help her, she didn't want her child growing up without a father, even if he wasn't her own. A father figure she needed at least… It was sad, any other queen would have been mourning the loss of their mate and forgetting about their kitten for the time being, and they would have to be taken in by someone else till their mother composed herself; not Jemima.

Jemima realized that Jemeerle was the last little bit of her lover, Quaxo Mistoffelees, in the world. Jemeerle was his gift to Jemima, and the thought of that, brought her some strength. She couldn't do this without Quaxo, but perhaps she wouldn't have to. He had said that he would watch over them, so therefore, perhaps he would keep Jemeerle safe while Jemima couldn't keep an eye one her. Jemima turned away from the mouth of the pipe, and crawled in farther to the nest that she and Quaxo had shared after they had become mates. She looked down at the little sleeping Jemeerle and sighed softly. There was no mistaking this kitten was Mistoffelees', that was for sure. She was mostly black furred, like her father and like her mother too. Three streaks of white ran through her black head fur, the lowest one on the left side, had a small dash of scarlet fur under it; Jemima's. Her bib was mostly scarlet, but she had a bright white chest like a tuxedo, like her father. Her arms and lets where hatched with scarlet and white; her tail was blotches of white and scarlet amongst nearly all black. There was a large splotch of scarlet on her left, black knee -- her right side from knee down was entirely white. From ankle down on her left, she was white furred, with a strip of scarlet, and strip of black. Both her ears were scarlet. Her face was white, like her father's and accented with silver, showing she was in fact the daughter of the Magician.

Jemima sighed to herself, looking at Jemeerle. She crawled up on the mattress with her kitten; the mattress still smelled of the heavenly scent of her mate Quaxo. She closed her eyes and the tears prickled the back of her eyelids again. She squeezed Jemeerle tightly, a little to tightly. She accidentally woke up her precious treasure. Jemeerle squirmed in her mother's grip and turned around to look upon Jemima. She saw her mother's tears, and didn't see her father anywhere near to comfort her mother. She looked around and saw smoke outside, it had a blue tinge to it. It was a good thing that a kitten her age didn't realize the only fire that blue smoke came from, was a funeral pyre. Jemeerle looked back at Jemima, who was awake, but had her eyes scrunched shut.

"Mommy ?"

Jemeerle snuggled closer to the Moonlight Cat and spoke in that loudly quiet way that only young kittens that can't control their tone, can. Jemima's bright eyes opened up, looking at her daughter. The pain, oh the pain behind her bright eyes.

" Yes Jemeerle?"

Even her voice wavered and threatened to break, but no. Jemima would not let herself fall to pieces in front of her daughter. She would not do that, Jemeerle need her to be strong, so she would be, just for her.

"Where's Daddy?"

Jemima had known the question was coming, but it still cut her like a thousand knives. It pained her so much, but Jemeerle was innocent, she did not know the pain that she saw in her mother's eyes, came in part from that question.

"He's…He's gone Hunny"

"Oh…"

Jemeerle tilted her head to the side and looked at her mother with her big amber eyes…they eyes of Quaxo Mistoffelees.

"When is he coming back?"

Jemima let slip a little sob and a gasp to gain her breath. It took all of her, to gather the courage, and right words to tell her child that her father was in fact, not coming back.

"He's not coming back Jemeerle…he can't come back to us. So we're just gonna have to get a long without for a while. Okay ?"

Jemeerle looked confused, but she nodded and curled up to sleep once more in her mother's warm, safe embrace. She'd always preferred her father's arms to her mother's, there had been something about the arms of her father that made her feel safer than her mother's. Maybe it was because Jemima herself didn't feel safe, but Quaxo had always been self-assured that he could protect his family, Jemima wasn't so sure. Against Macavity, what could little Jemima do ? She could inflict more damage than her mate had, that's what. She was a now single mother, because of that horrible cat, it would be both to avenge her lover, and to protect her child. Jemima bristled a little. Next time Macavity reared his highly domed ginger head, she'd be ready for him… even if he was her biological father…

After a few hours of rest, Jemima awoke on the mattress in the nest that was her's and Mistoffelees' before she opened her eyes she sighed in relief; it was all just a bad dream. She opened her eyes and looked around. She didn't see her mate anywhere

Probably out hunting for mice She thought to herself as she crawled to the lip of the pipe. Then she saw it; the scorched earth where Mistoffelees' funeral pyre had stood, and the weight of the world came crashing down on her. The ache in her heart, the ache of that one missing piece of the puzzle of life…she was missing that one piece, her life-long mate. She looked back at Jemeerle, who remained asleep, and Jemima knew then an there she would bear no more kittens, she refused to be with any tomcat that wasn't her deceased mate.

Silently, Jemima unsheathed her claws and crawled out of the pipe and out into the open. No one was around yet, perfect. She crawled through the junk piles to the wooden fence separating the Junkyard from the rest of London. She gouged her claws into the wood and dragged them along, feeling the timber pulling at the joints in her claws, and sharpening them. After several bouts of sharpening her claws, Jemima leapt off of the fencing, landing crouched. She stood that way, waiting, waiting… there in the shadows. A movement! In a split second the Moonlight Cat pounced on the moving object. Slashing her now lethally sharp claws across it. The rat fell dead. The slashes that he claws had left were deep and thin…they looked like nothing at first, but they hemorrhaged fast and soon the heart would beat the life giving blood right out of the body. Of course, that was for an average sized tomcat, on the rat, it had been instantaneous death.

This was the new Jemima. The ruthless hunter, for now, she not only had herself to feed, but her kitten. Quaxo had always made sure they had food, rats, fish, tuna, anything they wanted, for he was the Original Conjuring Cat…but he was gone and it was time for Jemima to take care of her young. Being the only cat in the Junkyard, other than Old Deuteronomy that truly understood the concept of happiness, she was capable of great happiness… and the greatest sorrows… Without Quaxo, the world seemed a little less bright, a little less exciting… a little less like home. She knew now she had truly left her own kitten hood behind her. Even when she was pregnant with Jemeerle, and when she was born, she and Quaxo still played games like kittens… They had, right up till the night before. The last thing that had ever transpired between Quaxo Mistoffelees and his mate Jemima, other than the choked dying conversation, was a game of tag between them and their kitten Jemeerle… But that Jemima was gone. She wasn't coming back either, she died the moment Mistoffelees had.

Looking back down at the rat, Jemima hissed angrily, taking a small portion of her frustration out on the carcass. She attacked it with her claws before sighing sadly and looking down at the dead rat.

No amount of anger or begging is going to bring him back Jemi, you know better than that. Take the rat and feed your kitten.

She sighed sadly thinking to herself. She picked up the rat and carried it back into the pipe with its tail between her teeth as she crawled. She set it down and waited for Jemeerle to wake up.