Work Text:
Demeter heaved a heavy sigh, exasperated by the cat before her. Cat, help me. “Tugger, I’d prefer it if you didn’t teach my little girl bad habits.” She said, knowing it would not stop the hip-thrusting lesson that was currently in progress. To prove this point, Tugger gave her an amused look.
“But look at her, Dem. She likes it!” He pointed to Jemima, who was indeed laughing hysterically at her uncle despite being only three months old. It became clear Demeter would have a heart-attack when she attempted to mimic said Uncle.
“Tugger.” Both cats turned to Munkustrap, who glared dangerously at his younger brother from the entryway next to an amused Alonzo. “I would prefer it if you did not teach my daughter bad habits.” He said with such finality and threatening undertones that the unconquerable cat relented.
“Boo.” He pouted turning to the still giggling Jemima. “Sorry, Jem. Your parents don’t want you to have fun.” They both shared a slightly serious glare at the two cats before the kitten broke down in a further fit of hysterical laughter and the Maine Coon stood. “You know what your problem is, you two? You’ve got no humour.”
He slung an arm around Demeter, leading her to where Munk and Alonzo were discussing rounds and patrols in the doorway and ignoring her indignant cry. “No sense of fun.” He threw his other around his brother’s shoulders, barrelling through his grunt of disdain and pulling the two of them deeper into the den. “No chill. Ain’t that right, Bombshell?”
‘Bombshell,’ glanced briefly up from her tea to see the three, meeting the Coon’s eyes with a mischievous gleam. “Quite right, Tugs. You two have been wound tighter than a spring for months now. I think a break is in order.” Both cat’s looked taken aback at the suggestion, Demeter beginning a low hiss at her elder sister.
“And just who would watch Jemima, then?” She asked fiercely, not bothering to hide her disgust with the idea.
“Yes, and who would organize the patrols and shifts.” Munkustrap added, muttering after: “not to mention my utter contempt for holidays.” A trait, funnily enough, shared with the sisters’ father.
“As much as I hate to admit it, Munku,” Alonzo called, coming up alongside them with Jemima climbing on his back. “These two have a point. You two haven’t had a moment to yourselves since your first week of mate-hood. And ever since the Ball, you’ve been…” he paused as he searched for a word, absent mindedly scratching Jemima’s ear. “Antsy.”
Munkus bristled at the insinuation. “I have not been ‘antsy.’ I’ve been a little jumpy, maybe, but I have good reason to be.” He gave his friend a flat look.
“So that’s why your head snaps around at the smallest noise?” The monochrome tom raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Why you’ve been pacing up and down the Yard every seven minutes? Why you nearly bit Pounce’s head off for sneaking up on you?” At the last accusation, Munk shrunk a little, still not entirely over the incident. Though he had apologized profusely to Pouncival (who had readily forgiven and promptly forgotten the incident in a day’s time), it was something that had stuck in his head for the better part of a week.
“… Okay, perhaps I’ve been a little more than jumpy. But by no means does that imply I need a holiday.” He retorted stubbornly.
“Well, what about poor Demeter?” Bomba questioned, smiling at her little sister as she did. Said sister, frowned in turn.
“I don’t need one any more than Munku.” She shot back.
“Really? So you falling asleep in Mum’s den in the middle of the day is normal, then?” Demeter averted her gaze. “You nearly crashing into Asparagus the other day is perfectly in line with your modus operandi? Face it Deme, you’re out of sorts and have been since the Ball.” The sisters locked eyes again, a silent conversation taking place in a matter of seconds. One where Demeter’s arguments were matched, slaughtered, and marched off to the chair. She sighed in defeat.
“Okay, maybe I’ve been a little tired. But that doesn’t answer what to do with Jemima. As tired as we are, there’s no one who can watch her.” She said, looking at her daughter, who was now playing with Alonzo’s tail.
“Bombshell and I can watch her!” Tugger supplied, grinning widely at the idea. The parents, however, looked positively affronted by the thought. Before Munk got the chance to tell his brother off, Demeter stepped in and gave a more diplomatic answer.
“We… couldn’t… possibly impose. You two have your own lives.” They met eyes, agreeing silently that it was perhaps a better answer for peace than ‘I would rather eat pollicle dung than let you watch my daughter.’ Unfortunately, it was perhaps too diplomatic.
“Nonsense.” Bomba answered, waving her paw dismissively and stalking around to relieve Alonzo of entertaining the young kit. “I would love to spend a few days with my niece while her parents have a break. And Tugger would as well.” The Coon nodded, smiling. The two shared another look, debating if Bomba was responsible enough to kitten-sit both of them. After a few seconds, Munkus sighed and relented, but let Demeter answer.
“If you two are absolutely sure, then okay. Thank you.” She smiled to her sister and brother-in-law, already feeling some of the tension leaving her shoulders. ‘When was the last time I actually de-stressed?’ She wondered, going back further in her memory than she probably should have. Munkustrap did not need to ponder such a question, he knew his answer immediately: ‘Never.’
“It’s settled then!” Tugger exclaimed, showing the two residents of the den to their door. “Bomba and I watch Jem, and Alonzo handles Munk’s duties for two days. You two have some fun.” When they reached the door, he shoved them out, smirking when they stumbled slightly. “Don’t come back for two days, and if I hear one of you set foot ten metres from the Yard, I’ll skin you both. Enjoy yourselves!” And with that threat (?), he promptly shut the door, leaving the two of them out in the cold morning air.
For a moment, they stood there, unsure of what to do. Munkus broke the silence first. “D-did… did we just get thrown out of our own den and the Yard for two days?”
“It would seem that way.” Demeter replied simply.
Munk looked over to his mate, and for the first time in a long time saw just how much her fur shined in the sun. ‘Bast, she’s just as gorgeous as the day we met.’ He stared for a second longer before she gave him a mild smirk. “Something in your eye?”
“Yes. The most beautiful queen to ever live.” She barked a laugh at the corny line and nuzzled a little under his neck.
“Charmer.” She purred, hearing one rumbling in his throat as well. “Well, since we’ll be skinned if we come back to the Yard, where to first, dear?”
He looked up slightly, considering the question. “The river?” She gave him one of her brilliant smiles.
“Great idea.”
In the end, they didn’t go too terribly far from the Yard. To the small river that was near it, catching fish and being near each other. They played like kittens a little, running through the forest, squealing and yelling in delight, and fell asleep under a tree near enough to the edge. The next day had been much the same, and they decided to stay out one extra day. Surely nothing bad could happen in one day, right? So they toured the city, visiting spots they’d not gotten a chance to see in ages.
But they had decided they absolutely needed to return to the Yard that evening, though they did so with relieved smiles on their faces and relaxed shoulders. They weren’t in any hurry, and spent a large portion of the journey laughing, feeling like new mates again.
“Oh Bast, I don’t remember when I’d ever had so much fun!” Demeter exclaimed, leaning slightly upon the silver tabby. He smiled and bent his neck, resting his head on hers and entwining their tails.
“Nor I. This whole trip has been well worth it.” She giggled and he thought he had achieved Heaviside with the sound.
“So what’s your view on holidays now?” She asked, purring slightly with the contact. He took a moment to considering, humming before he responded.
“Well… I suppose they’re not all that bad.” He smirked a little, pulling her a tad closer to his flank and tightening their wrapped tails. “Especially if I get to spend them with the most perfect queen alive.”
She hummed a chuckle, relishing in his warmth and the feel of his body against hers. “I’m sure. If this is the result, I hate to say that my sister is right. I need to get you out more.”
They laughed the rest of the way home, the sun just barely poking out from the horizon as they reached the Yard. Now, they should have been suspicious as soon as they got to the gates, seeing as very few cats were about in what was one of the busier hours of the day. They should have been more suspicious of the fact that Tumblebrutus had been left on watch, and simply alarmed when they passed Admetus patrolling with a distant look in his eyes.
But they were not. Alonzo was simply testing Tumble’s wherewithal, perhaps seeing if he could move on to the last phase of training. And Admetus normally had such a look, even if his eyes weren’t often dilated during them. There was no reason at all to think that the three cats (well, two at the very least) they should be able to trust the Yard to would let the whole Tribe fall apart in three days time. Surely that was impossible.
Practically every cat being in their den made certain they would never make such an assumption again. Mistoffelees had strewn himself over the box they kept in the corner for decoration (much to Demeter’s chagrin, as the box had been very heavy and taken her (or, rather, Munkustrap) nearly a whole day of fussing with to get absolutely perfect). Alonzo laid just beside and below him, swatting at the magician’s paw like a kit to a ball of stationary yarn and giggling every now and again.
Jenny and Skimble had curled themselves up right beside the food storage, purring loudly and smiling far too contently in their sleep. Right beside them were the ageing Jellylorum and Asparagus, playing some form of patty-cake where it seemed the objective was to see how many times you could lightly smack the other’s nose.
Victoria had sat herself alongside Mistoffelees, though away from (the still giggling) Alonzo, and was simply staring forward, as if their wall had challenged her to a staring contest and she were determined to beat it. Considering how dry her eyes seemed, this was not a recent development. Plato was only half-a-foot away, spinning himself around in a circle on his side and muttering “oh, Vicky, my white angel” every few seconds (much Munk’s annoyance).
“Mum? Dad?” Demeter tried, nudging Jenny and Skimble slightly in an attempt to rouse the two from their sleep. She immediately began to gag at the simply ludicrous strength of catnip scent on their pelts, and backed away before she could inhale any-more.
Munkustrap, meanwhile, had not bothered with the cats in the entrance and gone straight to the source – a red queen and maned tom who were curled around the other and about to get an ass-chewing of a lifetime (Alonzo too, once he was coherent enough to understand what he was saying).
“What the Hell happened!?” He shouted, jolting the two cats awake and drawing a hiss from Bombalurina. She clutched her head and drew into Tugger a little more.
“Make the mean tom stop, Tugsy. My head hurrrts.” She whined, burrowing into his chest fur. Tugger, unfortunately, looked only mildly more responsive than Alonzo.
“What?” He asked, dumbly and not unlike Pouncival after he’d been caught trying to steal some of the Calicoes’ trinkets (all three of whom happened to be in his den, believing themselves to be birds).
“You heard me well and fine, Tugger! What happened?! We left you alone for three – three – days, and the whole Yard is high and in mine and Demeter’s den!” He shouted, pulling another whine from Bomba and another confused look from his brother.
“What?”
“Damn it all!” He threw his paws up, fuming and trying to figure out how to fix the mess he’d been left with after three days and swearing to never take another holiday again. “You were supposed to be watching Jemima, not throwing a ‘nip party in our den!”
“Don’t worry, Monkey,” Munkus snarled at the old nickname, but Tugger was far to high to even register it. “We watched her closely. We put her to bed before we threw the party.”
“How does that make any of this-” He stopped at the soft sound of paws and looked over his shoulder. He fully rounded and dropped his mouth in horror at what he saw.
Jemima – his precious kitten – was batting around a ‘toy mouse’ with ‘Pouncival.’ Except the ‘toy mouse’ was a bundled up leaf of catnip, and ‘Pouncival,’ was a piece of junk that protruded just slightly from the wall. The two brothers watched (one in horror, the other only vaguely conscious enough to understand what was happening) for a time before anyone said anything.
“Oh.” Tugger said.
“TUGGER!” Munkus shouted, voice rising to an octave he didn’t know he could still hit.
“My baby!” Demeter cried, bundling Jemima up in her arms (who struggled to get back to the ‘toy mouse').
“Stoooooop!” Bomba whined.
“Hehehehe.” Alonzo giggled from the other room.