Title: Golden Years
Fandom: Aristocats (:P ;) )
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: OMC/Marie, Thomas/Duchess
Rating: G/K
Summary: Marie seeks her mother's advice at a pivotal time in their lives.
Word Count: 1688
Written For: Fan FlashWorks 364: Black and White
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.








"Mama, did you ever regret marrying Mister O'Malley?"

Duchess blinked her big, blue eyes in surprise at her daughter's impromptu question. "Why," she paused, actually mulling over the idea before finally accepting, "no. No, of course not, Marie!" She tossed her head as though to toss the idea that she ever could have regretted choosing Thomas far away from her. Their courtship had been anything but easy, especially with them being from two such vastly different families as Madame's higher upbringing and his gang of alley cats, but there had never been a moment when she had truly regretted choosing the most courageous feline she had ever known. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

"Because, Mama..." Marie paused, batting at a flower above her head. Then she turned abruptly over onto her fluffy, white side and looked directly at her mother. Suddenly, Duchess realized she was no longer looking at a kitten. Her daughter was coming into her first season, and her brothers already had their first litters well on the way. "I am getting older, Mama."

"Yes. Yes. That you are, my darling." Duchess rose and padded over to her daughter. She touched the tip of her nose to her little forehead. "Have you met someone who you..." She paused, her tail swishing as she considered how to pose the question. "...can not quite get out of your mind?" The tip of her bushy tail quirked into a question mark of curiosity.

"Oui," Marie finally admitted. "He is black and white, and so beautiful, so cute!" Rolling over, she batted again at the flower whose bud was hanging temptingly low. "But he is... He has no musical taste, and he... He is black and white!" she exclaimed, making a face.

"Marie!" Duchess cried in dismay. "What does it matter that he is black and white?!"

"He's poor, Mama. You always said to choose my mate very well and very carefully, to make certain that he is a tom who can and will provide for me. I always thought that my kittens would be pure, pure of breeding and pure white."

"Marie, I have taught you better than that! Your papa and I have both taught you better!" Thomas may not actually be the mate with whom she had created her first litter of kittens, but he had certainly raised them with a firm and caring paw. They had never known, and would never know, a different, and especially not better, father.

"But he -- He is not at all what I thought he would be!"

"But you cannot get him out of your mind?"

"No." Marie's face fell. She batted more lightly at the bud.

"He makes you smile when you think of him?"

"Normally, but I... I am so uncertain about a future with him, Mama!"

"Does he make you smile when you are together?" Duchess asked, knowing, already, fully well the answer. She knew exactly which young tom of whom her daughter was thinking. Although the kitten did not have musical talent yet, he was the latest stray that the band had taken into their care, and by the time they were done with him, Duchess knew he'd be able to play a mean tune on any instrument. She'd watched them all taking turns with him, after all.

"Oh, yes! Always!" Marie began to gleam, her blue eyes sparkling and her white coat suddenly looking far more radiant, just thinking of their times together. "He is funny, Mama, and sweet, and... I dare say he likes me quite a bit!"

"Why of course he likes you, my darling! What isn't there to like?"

"Well, that is true," Marie admitted, her own bushy tail swishing against the gravel. "But there is quite a bit, I fear, to not like about him!"

"Marie, do you not think I had reservations about choosing Mister O'Malley as a forever mate?"

"Of course! I know you did, Mama! I remember I was so infatuated with him! Why," she laughed, "at the age, if I you had not wanted him, I wanted him myself, and I certainly did not know what to do with him then!"

"No, you did not, and to be quite honest, my dear, neither did I! I had never known such a strapping tom! Honestly, your father was the only tom I had ever known. And I had always heard stories about alley cats." Her little, pink nose crinkled as she remembered those distasteful stories. "If the other queens had been to be believed, Marie, your dear, sweet papa was a ruffian, not about to be worthy of trust, let alone love!"

"But you have been together for so long now and he saved us all!"

"Yes, he did save us all, and he has several times since then. He has also always been loyal and true, delightful and sweet." She swished her tail again. "Yes, there were times I questioned my choice, but I have never once truly regretted my decision. I love Thomas, and he loves me. This young tom, Barthlomew, shall we call him -- "

"MAMA!" Marie shrieked.

Duchess laughed and winked at her. "Oh come now, my dear, I do know you quite well, do I not? It is Barthlomew on whom you have your eye, is it not?"

Marie sighed. "Purrhaps," she admitted, slowly drawing her tail across the pool of sunshine on the gravel in the walkway, "but it is not as though there are many choices."

"Oh there are many choices, darrrrling, many, many, many choices!" Duchess purred. "But are there any other choices who will make you smile as he does? Who will make you laugh as I have heard him make you sound so joyously? Who will try and try to learn musical instruments not because he wants to or because his elders have chosen him to do but rather because he so desperately wants to achieve your attention?"

Marie sat up, suddenly fully alert. She leaned forward, and her ears pricked up. "What do you mean, Mama? Surely you jest?! He is not learning them because of me!"

"Ah, but he is! Every time we go around the band when they are practicing, he is watching you the entire time he is supposed to be paying attention to his instrument! The boys tolerate it, because they have all watched you grow up and cared for you as your loving and doting uncles and they approve of his selection, and," she leaned conspiratorially closer, "of yours."

"But I have not chosen!"

"They are hoping you will."

"But what if I choose wrong? What if there is a tom of pedigree breeding who I simply have not met yet?"

"Will he make you laugh? Will he fight for you? Will he, most of all, make you happy, Marie? Those are the questions you must ask yourself, and if you can answer oui to every one of them, that is the mate for you. Riches do not matter as much. Madame could have married any man she chose. She chose to marry none of them, because none of them could make her happy as she did herself. Likewise although your papa and I have had more than our fair share of problems over the years, I have never actually regretted choosing Thomas, because I know in my heart, Marie, that no one could ever make me as happy as he does and no one would have ever fought for you three kittens and myself the way he did in the early days of our courtship. Money does not buy happiness, my darling, but choosing the right mate will guarantee your happiness."

"I just..."

"Does he make you happy, when you are together?"

"Yes."

"Does he make you laugh?"

"Oui. Often."

"Do you think he would fight for you?"

"I know he would," Marie exclaimed, her little chest puffing out with pride as she recalled the stray dog who had wandered into the band's practice session a few weeks prior, "and he would be as courageous as Papa, if not more so!"

"Then go to him, my darling, and see what more he may be able to do for you."

Duchess' blue eyes gleamed with joy and pride as her daughter scampered away. Thomas stepped out into the garden. He walked silently up to his lifemate and nuzzled her beautiful, furry face with his own. "They're growing up, Duchess." O'Malley purred though his bones were aching. The kittens were growing up, and that mean they were slowly getting old. He caught a gray hair on Duchess' coat and very gently removed it with his teeth.

She licked his cheek. "I know, mon amour. Soon we shall have kittens!"

He sat down beside her, still rubbing his face against hers. "Thank you," she whispered, in reference to the gray hair, but he did not respond. He would never admit his darling mate was getting old or gray. She'd be just as gorgeous to him if every single one of her hairs suddenly turned gray, but he knew the gray strands worried her.

"I was thinking purrhaps it's time we had another brood of our own?" His tail swished.

To his surprise, Duchess shook her head. It was to his delight, however, that she leaned back into him, purring deeply. "Non, mon cherie. I think it is time we settled down. I've loved raising kittens with you, but I think now is our time, and our time only. I want to cherish every moment of it," she licked his cheek again, "with you." She ran her tongue just underneath his nose, and Thomas laughed and purred all at once.

"If that is my Queen's desire -- " he then spoke humbly.

"It is." He grinned and kissed her again and again in the golden sunlight. These would be their golden years, and he relished the idea of spending them with just her. There'd still be plenty of kittens around anyway, he knew, especially with Barthlomew successfully wooing their pickiest child of the lot. They were going to be grandparents! Their happy, unified purrs filled the garden.



The End