Rating: PG to T
Summary: How Alonzo came to the Jellicles.
Disclaimer: CATS is not mine.
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Deep within the junkyard, where the Jellicle tribe regularly socialized, there was a small house. Cat-sized, and built out of cast-off from the renovation season, the small house was hastily stuck together with tile, scrap drywall, and a healthy helping of mud mortar. Propped up with a broken typewriter, and a few sturdy boxes that had yet to crumble beneath the rain, the little house served almost every purpose a group could want.
It was the abode of the resident Gumbie cat, of course, but she had allowed the rest of the tribe to use it as a resting place, meeting place, and occasionally as a makeshift infirmary should the need arise.
For the day’s purpose, it was an informal meeting place, where Munkustrap could digest the opinions of the tribe regarding the new tom. He had nothing against the patched tom, per se, but he was wary of anyone the Tugger quite happily vouched for. It was a dangerous thing to trust the Curious Cat, and the silver tom wanted to take every possible angle into consideration before he approved of the new Jellicle.
“This doesn’t make any sense.”
Munkustrap glared at the offending speaker, who turned out to be none other than the Curious Cat himself. “What doesn’t?”
“This,” a wave of his paw and the Tugger had indicated everything about the gathering. All available Jellicles were present, kittens included. “You usually just give a nod, tell the new furball to behave, and wander off to do noble-type things.”
There was a murmur of agreement from the kittens who had swarmed the Tugger where he reclined against a tattered throw pillow Jennyanydots had collected and tried to repair some time ago. Because the house was little more than a box, the Tugger found himself having an eager, if excitable, kitten added to his pillow, propping him up with a smirk. To the kitten, it was a game; playing the pillow while relaxing on her own, and having the opportunity to cuddle into the thick fur of her favourite tom’s mane.
Other cats-- Coricopat without Tantomile, Jellylorum, the queens Demeter and Bombalurina, and the kittens-- had all gathered together, squished as they were in the privacy of the “meeting hall” while Alonzo waited outside and pretended not to hear everything that was being said. Munkustrap shifted, being the only one without a kitten underfoot or pressed up against someone, he had the room to straighten or crouch as he was fit. But pacing, an action which usually helped him to think, was out of the question.
“We don’t usually get requests from cats right off the streets.” Munkustrap said, tail curling about his paws. “And certainly never initiated by you.”
A parody of a pout crossed the Tugger’s face. “Don’t trust me, pet?”
“Not a bit.”
“Damn.”
A young queen giggled and draped herself across the Tugger’s lap. “I trust you, Tugger.”
The tom beamed, flashing his charming smile. “That’s why I like you, Electra. You’re a sweetheart.”
“What about me?” The kitten behind Tugger pouted, poking her head out to fix him with her best pitiful look. She got a pat on the head for her efforts.
“You make a good pillow, Etty.”
Munkustrap cleared his throat before the interruptions could continue, ears flicking with barely contained annoyance. “What do we know about this Alonzo?”
There was a silence when no one wanted to be the first to admit that they knew nothing. Eyes turned to the Tugger, expecting him to answer, but he had found a way to amuse himself rather than pay attention to the political proceedings. Bombalurina shrugged, her movement throwing Demeter off balance for a moment as they had been pushed up against each other in a corner.
“He’s kind of cute.”
Every tom in the room rolled his eyes, though most in jest. Bombalurina glared, then grinned as the Tugger’s “pillow” squeaked her own agreement. “He’s dashing. And very dynamic, and…”
A soft swat quieted her and the Tugger looked down at the kitten, pretending to be hurt. “Luv, pet, what about me?”
The kitten, Etcetera, grinned; “He pays attention to me more than you.”
“He’s only been here a few hours.”
“I know.”
Munkustrap shook his head, starting to get frustrated by how easily distracted the other cats were. “Do we know anything else about him? I don’t think looking pretty is enough of a reason to let someone into the Jellicles.”
The Tugger reclined back against the throw pillow, having pulled Etcetera out from under him so she could cuddle on his lap. “That’s why Bomba’s here.”
The scarlet queen bristled, “And why you haven’t been kicked out yet, fluffy.”
The Maine Coon simply grinned, but refused to outright answer. From there on out, all conversation degenerated to bickering and petty insults, leaving Munkustrap helpless when trying to reign in or direct the topic back to the matter at hand. Even Jellylorum and Coricopat seemed to amused by the banter between Tugger and just about everyone else to bother trying to stop it.
So Munkustrap left, skulking back out into the junkyard to come face-to-face with the patched tom who had been the subject of discussion for about three minutes. He looked Alonzo over, a vague challenge in his eyes, wanting the tom to prove himself worthy of the Jellicles. It was a challenge that quickly faded as the banter inside turned to a heated argument and he wondered just what made the tribe worthy of anyone anyway.
“Well?” Alonzo stood proudly, not making any move to humble himself for the silver tom, despite knowing that it might just cause him the asylum he wanted.
Munkustrap sniffed, trying to seem nonchalant while a kitten squealed behind him-- probably being tickled or pounced by another. “You can stay. But don’t bring any trouble in with you.”
A charming smile, similar to the Tugger’s when he wanted something or was assured it was already his. “I’m here to avoid trouble.”
The silver tom bristled as the sudden, sharp spike in noise from the still gathered cats, and started off. “You can meet Deuteronomy tomorrow.” He gave the patched tom one last look over as he passed by. “What kind of name is Alonzo anyway?”
Alonzo blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Huh?”
“Munkustrap, Rum Tum Tugger, Coricopat, Tantomile…” The names were just the first ones to come to mind, making them, to Munkustrap, the most common he could recall. “Where does Alonzo fit into a feline name.”
Less confused by the oddity of the silver tom, Alonzo could only shrug his response. “My mother was horribly uncreative?”
“Ah.” Seeming to accept that, Munkustrap continued off, presumably to tell the Jellicle leader just what was going on and to expect a guest.
It was obvious that the Tugger had been waiting for the silver tom to wander off on whatever task he had set to himself. Settled in the doorway, the large tom had a remarkable ability to slip around unnoticed when he wanted to, even if he normally demanded attention. “You in?”
“Evidently. I talk to Deuteronomy tomorrow.”
“Know who that is?”
A wry look was shot in the Tugger’s direction, “Who doesn’t know?”
The only indication of a shrug was a slight shift in the fur of the Tugger’s mane. Nonchalant, the tom stepped further away from the doorway and the noise inside. He moved to follow Munkustrap’s path deeper into the junkyard and, presumably, out again on the far side. “Gonna tell me why you‘re here yet?”
Alonzo smirked, realizing that he could have a lot of fun dangling information in front of the Tugger for a while. “Let’s see what Deuteronomy says first.”