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Purrs and Mistletoe
by Pirate Turner
Duchess padded quietly to the spot in the living room where her husband had been sitting for at least an hour, or so her distraught kittens had told her, his head turned up and his dark pupils narrowed as he silently watched the plant above his head. Every now and again, he'd cock his head to a different angle, but always his eyes remained transfixed upon that single plant. Duchess smiled and tried not to laugh as she approached him. "Thomas, dear?"
Thomas blinked and gave a little jump that neither he nor Duchess would ever admit. "What is it?" he asked, looking briefly to her face before returning his steadfast gaze to the plant.
"Mistletoe."
"Mistle what?!" Thomas exclaimed, jumping to all fours and looking at Duchess in shock.
"Mistletoe," she repeated. Her perk, pink nose scrunched in distaste as she explained, "I know it's a rather odd name, but that's what Madam calls it."
"Why's it hanging up there on the ceiling?" Thomas asked, looking back at the plant with his own nose scrunching in confusion.
"Madam hangs it there every year around this time."
"Why? Is it good to eat?"
"Oh, no!" Duchess cried, her bushy tail swishing urgently through the air. "You never, ever, ever, under any circumstances, want to eat that!"
"Why not?" Thomas questioned, sitting back down and blinking at his wife in confusion. He'd been a member of their aristocatic family for a year now, and still he found their strange ways confusing.
"Madam says it will make us very badly sick and we are never to so much as lay a paw upon it," Duchess said firmly.
"Then what good is it?!" Thomas demanded, glaring at the plant.
"It is . . . used for a custom Madam and other humans have. They embrace underneath its boughs."
"You mean like this?" Thomas queried, reaching a paw around Duchess and pulling her close.
She placed a paw upon his furry chest as she gazed up into his eyes. "Yes," she replied softly, "and more."
"What else?" he asked. He was beginning to like this custom!
Duchess smiled lovingly up at him and answered him in a gentle, but nonetheless bewitching, purr. Thomas' heart began to hammer, as it always did, when she started to purr. "They kiss."
He definitely liked this custom! A deep rumbling started low in Thomas' throat as he brushed his nose against Duchess' and then pressed his mouth to hers. Their tails swished through the air in rhythm together before finding each other and entwining.
After a long moment, Thomas pulled away to give Duchess a chance to breathe. Her blue eyes were shining up into his, and he rested his head against hers, leaving their noses just barely touching each other. "What else do they do?" he breathed.
"What else?" Duchess questioned, still rather dazed from the passionate kiss they had shared. Duchess had once overheard Madam saying that the Professor knocked her stockings off. She wasn't sure what stockings were, but she was certain that if she had worn them, Thomas would have just knocked them off!
"What else do they do underneath the mistletoe?"
"Oh. They just kiss as long as they're under here."
"Really?" he asked, perking back up. "They kiss as long as they're under the mistletoe?"
Duchess barely had time to nod before Thomas was kissing her again. Their purrs blended into one magical symphony, as the tips of their tails also kissed, forming a heart between their two plumes.
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The kittens had wandered back to the foyer both to see if Santa Paws had arrived yet and to check on their father. Marie sighed dreamily as she stretched out on the floor, her small head resting on her little, white paws. "Aw! It's so romantic!"
Berloiz stuck out his tongue, as he often did when he watched his parents embrace. "Sissy stuff!" he announced.
"I don't know," Toulouse replied, bringing his thoughts away from his paintings that he'd made to give to his family for Christmas for just a moment. "I think it's sweet!"
Berloiz turned his tongue on his brother. "You would!" he announced.
"And you would think it was just sissy stuff!" Toulouse returned.
"I do!"
"Prrrecisely!" Toulouse replied, having trouble getting out the big word he'd only recently learned.
"Brothers!" Marie cried, throwing her paws up in the air and rolling her eyes. Then she turned on them, her white tail cutting through the air. "You two better behave!" she told them. "It's not too late to get on Santa Paws' bad list!"
Berloiz quickly put his tongue back into his mouth. "She's right, you know."
Toulouse sniffed indignantly. "I didn't start it."
"It doesn't matter who started it!" Marie told them both. "You'd both get into trouble for it! Now hush up and settle down and let's wait for Santa Paws. I think Mama's going to be busy with Daddy for a while!"
Berloiz and Toulouse did lay down and hushed, but both little boys were thinking the same thing: Sisters! They vowed to get her just as soon as Christmas was over and they were sure their new toys wouldn't be disappearing. Marie sighed dreamily as she returned her full attention to watching Thomas and Duchess kissing underneath the mistletoe.
The End