Written in honour of petxnd and her beautiful manips...
All the previous warnings etc available in the series - plus one character death...
Two Squared Extra
Two ageing tigers sat side by side in the shade of a stand of bamboo. They were now both obviously older, the whiskers around noble jaws increasingly white and the last children born to them now just over a month ago.
Xander's last marked Willow's last litter also. The older female coupling for the seventh time with her childhood friend, though the wiccan's mentality was almost exclusively tiger these days.
She was now mother, grandmother and great grandmother. The connection with her cubs was oddly close, according to the attending zoologist/ vet… as was her strangely affectionate relationship with the two male tigers – particularly the golden tiger. Umbahla, the chief handler had warned the handler most often charged with tending the older tigers' enclosure (Gordon), but the apprentice agreed with the zoologist, yet still neither could quite work out the dynamic. It went against all the literature.
Umbahla simply smiled whenever the spectacular sires and personal pets of Ahmil were wondered at. The young Sheikh's tigers had always been special, and had been the direct cause of his family having a very good life, and for that he was grateful. His own son was now Ahmil's personal assistant, and his daughter back in London working for the Emirates Airline – roles they had gained via good educations in both Dubai and England as the family followed the tigers.
Yet Umbahla had other concerns. He agreed with Ahmil – Bahir and Fadi were ready for the retired life.
Spike … or Bahir as he had been known for nearly fifteen years, had struggled to service the pretty young tiger from the St Petersburg Zoo. Indeed she was very fetching… and young… yet he felt disinclined to pursue her at first, preferring the comfort of quiet afternoons with his dearest friend, but he had finally given in to the combination of her scent and invitation.
The beautiful Siberian white tigress, Illianka, had been born in an open park environment as part of a deliberate breeding program – and would be returned as soon as her motherhood was complete. Her animal nature spoke directly to Spike's demon memories, but his ancient sense of honor and age forced him to pause as she snarled at him for the third time.
Illianka was just shy of a quarter of Spike's tiger age and a pure bred Siberian. Their coupling was swift and to the point and she left the cubs left on day three – the dear female having no motherly instinct nor role model to assist her bringing up her children. The handlers may have fed them but their days were spent in the lair with their father and his golden male friend. They were now six months old and of late had all shown a natural love of the hunt.
Ahmil had promised the older tigers' retirement from stud duties and was true to his word.
For years now, whenever he was at home, it had been the habit of the now senior vice-president of his father's company Ahmil to lead the tigers into his study, to spend the day at his feet. The two never failed to rest their large heads in his lap when invited, and as the astute businessman negotiated various building projects and funding deals, he would absently stroke over the velvet soft ears and run his fingers through the fur on the broad heads. Phonecall or meeting over, he would give his full attention to the tigers for a few minutes, scratching under powerful jaw lines or ruffling then smoothing the fur over magnificent shoulders.
Spike had only barely maintained his comprehension of human language as lazy afternoons in the warmth of Ahmil's quarters and the ever increasing complexities of his dealings meant that sleep was often the preferable option. But neither he nor Xander ever missed the opportunity to lick their master's hand or rub against him affectionately whenever it seemed appropriate.
Their lives were simple, feeding, pleasing master, patrolling, tending the children (particularly leading the hunt!), and pleasing each other.
It was unusual feline behavior that two would always lie together – but their children and even the grandchildren had inherited some of the strange traits that seemed exclusive to Ahmil's tigers. Their rather more social nature was utterly atypical yet a wonderful asset for any of the few lucky owners of the line.
Spike and Xander were lying together late one Thursday afternoon when Xander's latest progeny, the last of Willow and Xander's direct children, three little yellow cubs, barely five weeks old, padded across to the reclining mature male tigers – they all smelled 'father' and enjoyed the casual welcome of family.
Spike was asleep, so Xander licked over the ears of the boys before relaxing back to let the young lads wrestle in the presence of the originator of the bloodline. Their stripes were barely beginning to show, but the little tigers already displayed the boldness and affection so typical of their family.
Spike finally roused and licked over Xander's ears as two older white tigers chased the former vampire's twitching tail. It was his last litter too. The little ones joined the fun. Growling as best they could at their older cousins and attempting to wrestle.
Xander lay back, his tail stretching to wrap lightly around his lover's back left leg as they both admired the five boys. But Spike felt the tension, he knew Xander's feelings regards Willow's failing health.
Willow was back amongst them. It was a relief and though her tiger nature was definitely one of the solitary female, her latest litter and consequent operation left her needing the comfort of family. She was missing part of an ear, three claws and was without the last quarter of her tail courtesy of an altercation with a large wilderbeast on a hunt some year or so ago, and more recently she had been 'fixed' after the last litter. The hysterectomy had been necessary after a serious prolapse threatened her life, yet it was all too final as far as the tigress was concerned. She smelt and felt different.
She spent has spent almost a fortnight in the shadows before finally making her way to spend time with her male friends. Their children were all having children, and as the last of the original line grew, the three became more used to the idea of the next generation of their progeny.
Dawn visited the tigers late in the summer of their sixteenth year as big cats.
Willow was lying with the two older males, the bandages from recent surgery soiled but still only a day old. All three tigers lifted with slight snarls at the effort before the males padded toward their just turned forty, human friend.
Xander was increasingly stiff in his movements – though the warmth of Dubai was always helpful. Spike switched his tail swiftly as one of his own young white offspring attempted to grasp the appendage with sharp three month old teeth then stood and padded over to Dawn.
Willow rolled painfully then stood slowly to follow at her own pace.
Dawn's expression was pained.
She squatted down in front of the three, knowing that there was only limited language for the three these days but also that the message needed to be conveyed.
The tigers nuzzled her affectionately in turn.
"Hey Guys… I um… Giles is sick… I mean… really sick… and he wants to see you before…ohh… umm…" Dawn's breath hitched and she put her head in her hands as three tigers that individually outsized her fivefold, rubbed against her sobbing figure.
Dawn eventually stilled and conveyed the request… Giles wanted to see them… The tigers understood.
They would travel back to London with Ahmil - their youngest brood looked after by Gordon, the elders by Umbahla – both handlers traveling with them. The time in quarantine would be too much time apart for the little ones, and the presence of their personal vet ensured that the tigers would all be allowed a minimum of time confined.
Xander was travel sick again, despite fasting for two days before their flight and a shot prior to leaving Dubai. Willow too suffered in transit, the last section of her still healing scar oozing a little through the bandages, but frequently soothed by Xander's rough tongue over material as they waited out their three weeks.
It became a pattern, Xander would tend to the children and Spike would comfort Willow, then they would swap places and her friend of old would flop down beside the aging tigress and begin to caress her with a rasping tongue.
Eventually they were transported to the covern.
They settled the rather confused young ones into the visitors' quarters before rising as Umbahla arrived with their leads.
Each of the adults simply tilted their heads to the side exposing their ornate collar and waited for the lead to be attached. Umbahla knew Giles from their time in England but was utterly unprepared for the emaciated figure of a man stricken by a lymphoma gone mad.
The three were led into the sick room and all fell to a full down position as Umbahla knelt and prayed in his own tongue.
Their leads were loose. Umbahla had known the old man for years and was too upset to pull them tight, so all three advanced on the patient.
Giles was heavily medicated but felt the rasping tongues of the great cats as they adored him from feet to head as they would a senior of their clan… and the old man cried… these beautiful creatures… these beings that had been as children to him… He had asked… but hadn't thought they would… could return… to say goodbye… He had hoped but… Dawn's hand slid into his and squeezed his limp appendage, voluntary movement quite beyond him now. But they both knew and the big cats kept vigil.
On the second night Giles' internal system began to fail, the tigers returned, without the children initially but nudged at Dawn who was sleeping in the 'guest chair' around midnight.
The little ones were brought in as Giles' final struggle began.
Giles passed away at three in the morning surrounded by a family of tigers, his last living sensations and images being that Spike licking his inert hand affectionately, Xander nudging against his cheek with a soft fur covered face and of Willow lifting two of her latest brood onto his bedside and the dear little ones joining their mother to purr against a still warm human chest …. And then… white…
The tigers returned to their temporary enclosure with heads down. Dawn was crying as were all the wiccans and handlers present.
Ahmil grieved with his tigers but still managed to take the cubs to Bournemouth for a weekend of play at the sea before they were once again crated for travel.
The older tigers knew that it would only be a matter of time before they too would require a farewell, both the males knowing that if the other died first, it would only be a matter of days before they too succumbed.
Willow padded over, her wounds were finally healing. The three lay together watching their youngest playing in the sun of the Dubai enclosure and snuggled close – not for warmth… just… rough tongues licked over familiar fur, tails swished then relaxed together and large paws fell across familiar torsos.
When Xander's youngest snuggled up too, it could have been argued that at least three tigers on the planet really could smile.
Currently playing Louis Armstrong: "The Home Fire…"