He rested his head against the post on the veranda and took a deep breath. The cross-town run had tired him out and now he just needed to catch his breath. His eyes closed in exhaustion and he remembered it – he remembered her. How the light of the Jellicle Moon shone off of her fur, how her eyes sparkled... how he wanted her, how he got her. The details were still a little blurry to them but they did know what happened – as did the cook, their pet. And she was beside herself with joy at the thought of kittens. It wasn’t like it was their first time; well, it was their first time together. He had his share of queens throughout the years and she had a handful of toms.
He sighed and walked through the kitty door, making sure that his paws were clean first. He saw the mistress walking around, talking into her cell phone, oblivious to the rest of the world around her and the calico tom under her feet. After dodging the painful looking stiletto heels, he walked down the hall to the last door on the left, which was opened enough for him to pass through. He slipped in and walked down the wooden stairs, that could use a guardrail, and into the basement where he resided. There she was, in all her impregnated glory, curled up in the basket in the corner. She lifted her head at the sound of him coming down the stairs and smiled, “Did you find him, Jerrie?”
He shook his head and walked over to her, “No, he wasn’t at the Vicarage.”
“Isn’t today Market Day,” she asked as she cocked her head to a side. He nodded, causing her to roll her eyes, “You doofus, he would have been at High Street; everyone knows that.”
“Next time you can go find him then,” he said, curling up on the other side of the basket. The cook bought them a bigger one once she realized that Rumpelteazer was pregnant; they did need one big enough to hold them and the kittens, once they were born.
“Trust me, I’d love to but they won’t let me leave the house, let alone my little dungeon,” she sulked.
He gave her a weak smile and nudged her cheek with his nose, “So, what did you do with your day?”
She perked up and smiled proudly, “I chased a mouse today.”
“Really, I bet he was tasty,” Mungo cooed as her face darkened into a scowl.
“Who said I caught it? The little bugger went under the washer,” she grumbled, looking at the large appliance, “He has to come out sometime and when he does I’ll be ready for him.” Mungo laughed, seeing her tail swish back and forth as she watched for the rodent, “Olav was here looking for you.” Mungojerrie stopped laughing and looked at the queen across from him, “She, apparently, thinks that I’m sick. How that idea got into her head, I wonder.”
“Rumpelteazer,” Mungojerrie said, trying to sound reasonable, “She did hear that you were sick last month – before we knew that you were pregnant, and I just never got around to telling her that, you’re... you know.”
“With kit,” she said blandly.
“What am I supposed to do? Go up to the queen and say: ‘Hey, toots, you know I love you right? But guess what; I slept with my best friend at the Ball – and now she’s carrying my babies. Isn’t that great?’”
Rumpelteazer stared at him for a moment, as if she was contemplating the question. “You call her ‘Toots’?”
“No, and that’s beside the point.”
“I know it’s hard, Mungojerrie,” she comforted, placing her paw on top of his, “I had to tell Lavvy about... my condition.”
“And then he broke up with you,” he pointed out gruffly. He looked up and saw the hurt look in her eyes and softened, “I just don’t want to loose her, Tea.”
“I know you don’t,” she said compassionately, “But if you don’t tell her this now then when? She’ll find out soon.” He nodded, resting his head on his paws, she would much rather to hear it from him then to hear it from someone else – like from Lavvy for example. “Are you going to see Old Deuteronomy tomorrow?”
“Yeah, he’ll be at the Vicarage right,” he asked, wanting to make sure that if he was going across town that he’d end up in the right spot.
“He should be.”
