Happy Birthday Macy!

This present is for you!! It is adorable...because I know how much you like cute things!

I am also very grateful for you for being my personal cheerleader, so this is to show my appreciation on your special day! XD

So, to you and everyone else, ENJOY!

Oliver Boulanger sat at his kitchen table, watching a white and fluffy kitten walk unsteadily around on the table in front of him.

Yesterday, he and Enrique had taken a trip to the pet store. Oliver had seen the blue-eyed kitten and had of course just had to buy it. Enrique had simply rolled his own blue eyes and made a comment on his best friend's girlyness.

The Italian was still sleeping now, and the Frenchman figured he would be until at least ten. It was eight o'clock now.

He sighed and rested his head on his arms as he continued to watch his kitten stumble around on the table. "You're so cute!" he told it, although this was quite unnecessary as he had already told it this many times before.

The kitten only mewed and waddled towards him, sniffing around his face. Oliver giggled and sat up, scratching his pet's ears. "You need a name..." he informed the ball of fluff, "a good one."

The green haired teen looked around the kitchen absentmindedly. It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining through the window and onto his adorable kitten. He looked down at the cat and smiled—it was purring.

"I have an idea!" He exclaimed suddenly, still talking to the purring mass of white fluff, "I should take you outside, find a nice spot, and paint a picture of you today! That sounds like a great way to spend the day to me...what do you think?"

The kitten did not, of course, respond. Oliver thought a bit more, "And after that I can decide what to name you."

The Frenchman stood up, stroking the kitten one last time before he turned towards the door, "Stay here, I'll be right back!"

His pet meowed after him as he dashed up the stairs to get his things.

Five minutes later, and after leaving a note for Enrique, Oliver and his kitten had left the house in search of a perfect backdrop for his painting. It was such a beautiful day, Oliver figured it shouldn't be hard to find one.

The artist wandered around for several minutes with the kitten and all his artistic things before he settled on the perfect spot.

As of now, he had everything he would need (his paints, paint brushes, etc. You know the drill) situated perfectly on a grassy spot that was on one side of the Seine. From where he was, he could see the Eiffel Tower in the background—which added to his liking of the place.

Perfect.

Oliver held the still nameless kitten in his arms. It was squirming, demanding to be set down on the ground so it could explore this new place. The Frenchman put his kitten down and watched amusedly as it wobbled around a bit.

He smiled and then crouched down and picked the white cat up again. Oliver then proceeded to place it down in the perfect spot and position for him to paint it.

It stared up at him, blinking its blue eyes every once in a while, causing Oliver to giggle at the kitten for the hundredth time. He then sat himself down and picked up his pad of paper which would normally sit on his easel, but because the kitten was so tiny he decided to sit down to paint it. Thus, of course, he had to abandon the easel.

His kitten was adorable and this spot he'd found was beautiful; this was definitely perfect. What a great way to spend the day indeed.

No sooner had he made the first brush stroke, when Oliver noticed his model had lost interest and was wandering off.

"Hey!" he chuckled, "Get back here you!" The Frenchman chased after his mischievous pet. He caught it and returned the kitten to its previous position, still laughing slightly at its antics.

"Now stay!" he commanded it, picking up his brush again. He continued his painting for about five minutes before he noticed that the kitten had changed its position again. It had been sitting before, but was now on all four paws and swatting playfully at a butterfly.

Normally, Oliver would have found this situation impossibly cute, but right now, it was slightly frustrating.

He rolled his eyes heavenward and shook his head. Then the gray-lavender eyed teen discarded his tablet and paintbrush once again to correct his kitten's behavior.

"Now sit here." he told it, "And don't move!" Oliver—despite the annoyance—still had a smile on his face as he said it and dipped his brush in the green to paint the lush grass on which the kitten sat.

It mewed and he glanced at it, knowing full well that it was capable of wandering off without him knowing it by now. Oliver saw that the fluff ball was starting to stand up and made a move to stop it.

"Oh no you don't!" he said as he forced it back down into its previous sitting position.

The kitten looked up at him and he pet it a few times before getting back to his painting.

The young artist actually managed to get some of his creation done whilst the cat only sat there, twitching its tail innocently. But after a time (it was probably only about seven minutes to be precise), the small white kitten got restless again.

It stood and stretched its back, the small mouth yawning delicately. It stretched out every limb individually before making its way towards its owner.

Oliver, meanwhile, was so engulfed with painting the Eiffel Tower just right, that he didn't notice his blue-eyed kitten had moved until it brushed against his knee. He looked down at it, one light green eyebrow raised.

The kitten continued to rub its head against its master, purring contentedly. The Frenchman only shook his head for the second time that day and sighed. He set down his paper and replaced the kitten back where it belonged.

"Stay." he ordered it sternly, pressing his finger to its nose to emphasize the point. His kitten went cross-eyed for a moment, watching its master's finger.

Oliver giggled yet again before continuing on his painting. Occasionally he would glance down and check just to be sure his model was staying still enough to be painted.

One time he looked down to see that the kitten had run off. He'd thrown his things down in frustration and stood to go and search for it. Certainly a small kitten shouldn't be able to get that far in just a few seconds!

Oliver had wasted a half-hour looking for his pet—and another fifteen minutes were wasted getting it out of the tree. The Frenchman didn't have the slightest clue how his kitten had gotten into the tree, and apparently it didn't either.

In the end, the rich teen had had to climb up and carry the kitten back down. And let me tell you, it's not an easy feat to climb down a tree with a squirming kitten in your arms.

Once he'd made his way back down to his original painting spot, Oliver was just about ready to glue the troublesome animal down. That way, he could be sure it wouldn't wander off any more.

Hes pet meowed innocently and wound itself between the Frenchman's ankles. The annoyed teen huffed and placed the kitten rather forcefully back down on its spot again.

"Sit still right here," Oliver stressed, "and do not move!"

He sat himself back down, brushing some of his green hair out of his eyes. He then picked up his things and resumed painting for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.

Meanwhile, back at the Boulanger's mansion, Enrique Giancarlo had decided to join the land of the awake.

As Oliver had predicted, it was around ten o'clock. But as Enrique saw it, there was still plenty of daylight left, and he could even have slept longer had he felt like it.

Not bothering to get dressed yet, the Italian padded down the stairs wearing nothing but his boxers. He stretched his tanned frame and made his way to the kitchen where he knew Oliver would be. If he'd stuck around here to wait for Enrique to get up that was.

When the blond reached his destination, he saw no Oliver. There was, however, a note from his best friend sitting on the small kitchen table.

Written in the Frenchman's perfect handwriting, the note told Enrique that his friend had gone out to find a good spot to paint a picture of his kitten.

Ah yes, the kitten. Enrique remembered the trip to the pet store and his friend's insistence on buying the white fluff ball. He found it all extremely girly, but that was Oliver for you. Plus, the Italian had to admit that the kitten was pretty adorable.

Just then, his stomach growled and he noticed how hungry he was. He also noticed that it was a Saturday morning and that Oliver gave his workers the weekend off.

The blond was also a horrible cook himself, so the only thing for it was to go and hunt down his best friend.

It shouldn't be hard, he thought as he dashed up the stairs to put some clothes on, all he had to do was look everywhere the Frenchman considered beautiful....Great.

Oliver sighed in extreme exasperation. He glared at the adorable kitten who, quite innocently, refused to sit still for even a minute. It was highly aggravating.

Presently, his kitten was frolicking around, chasing dandelion seeds that floated past.

The Frenchman was watching it with his arms and legs crossed and a frown of disapproval on his face.

He'd managed to finish the entire background, but the kitten was not allowing itself to be captured in Oliver's lovely art.

While the background had been drying, he'd allowed the fluffy animal to do as it pleased. The way he saw things, he figured the devilish creature could get all its wiggles out so that it could sit still and be painted.

But no. His kitten appeared to be a bottomless pit of wiggles.

The French blader didn't really know how long he sat there, glaring at the innocent creature.

Finally he decided he might as well give it one more try. He grabbed the small cat and set it down—once again—in the same spot he always set it down in. (The grass there was flattened out by now, and he could easily find this spot.)

"Now—you—stay—here!" Oliver accompanied each word with a—maybe a little bit too fierce—pat on the kitten's fuzzy head.

He sat back down in his own spot and began to sketch out the basic lines of where his kitten would go with a white pencil.

The Frenchman then watched as the still unnamed specimen stood up once again in pursuit of another butterfly.

The now very frustrated artist threw his hands into the air.

"That's it! I give up!" he complained to the kitten, who of course was not listening so he was really complaining to no one in particular. "You obviously don't want to stay still and seem to be incapable of doing so. It was cute at first, I'll admit. Just your typical little kitten who has a bit too much energy. But now it's just plain annoying! Why can't you just stay still?!"

They gray-lavender eyed teen continued to send his adorable glare in the kitten's direction—although it, as always, was oblivious to his annoyed state. "I thought animals were supposed to be in tune with how their owners are feeling..." he mumbled to himself.

His kitten simply pranced about, pouncing on the occasional grasshopper.

"Ugh! Why don't you settle down already!?" he asked it, clearly disgusted with all this nonsense.

The only response he received was that his new pet came over his way chasing a grasshopper. Then it spotted him and rubbed against the boys knee once more.

"Oh that's nice! Real cute..." Oliver could have taken sarcasm lessons from Johnny before.

"Actually, that is pretty cute."

The voice from behind startled him and Oliver jumped, twisting around at the same time to see who was there.

"Enrique! Don't do that...you scared me."

The blond sat down next to his best friend and scratched the kitten's fluffy ears like the Frenchman had done earlier. "Sorry, I'm just hungry." He eyed Oliver's unfinished painting and nodded in its direction. "What's up with that?"

"That," Oliver said, pointing at his kitten, "is what's up with that." he indicated the painting.

Enrique looked at his friend and raised his eyebrows. "What'd he do?" He was absentmindedly playing with the kitten as he spoke with the Frenchman.

"He would not stay still when I was trying to paint him! He kept on moving and wandering off...I had to climb a tree and bring him back down, Enrique. A tree!" Oliver ranted.

"Sounds awful," the Italian sympathized, "but he is a kitten and they do prefer playing to sitting still."

"That's his excuse..." The gray-lavender eyed teen mumbled.

Enrique laughed at this. "So, what's his name?" he asked once he had stopped laughing.

The kitten in question was lying on its back, playfully biting and clawing at the blond's hand as he pet it.

Oliver looked at his companion incredulously, "A name? That's what this whole thing started out with! I needed to find him a name, then I decided he would be absolutely adorable to paint! So then I came out here and this happened!" He gestured to the kitten, who had already lost interest in Enrique's hand and was dancing around a flower, swatting petals off with its tiny paw. "I haven't been able to think of a name in all the chaos!"

Okay, maybe a little dramatic, Enrique decided. But this was just another thing that made Oliver so feminine. The blue-eyed teen smiled, suddenly thinking of a brilliant idea for the kitten's name. "What about 'Trouble'?"

Now it was Oliver's turn to raise his eyebrows at his friend. "'Trouble?'" he repeated skeptically.

"Yes," came the response, "he looks like a Trouble and from what you've told me he certainly is trouble."

The Frenchman shook his head, "You are so strange at times, mon ami...but I suppose you're right. That kitten is troublesome."

"There. Trouble. Now it has a name. Can we go eat now?" Enrique was still clearly hungry.

"No Enri. I cannot leave until I have painted my kitten." Oliver stated. Then added, "And if you're so hungry, why didn't you just stop at a restaurant?"

The Italian sighed. "Well, excuse me for wanting my best friend to make me breakfast...I prefer your cooking than any restaurant's."

"Thanks for the compliment." Oliver told his friend, "But I'm still staying here until that Trouble is painted."

"But that could take all day!" Enrique exclaimed, flopping down backwards so that he was lying on the grass.

"Then go and get something to eat." the Frenchman suggested.

"No. I want you to make me breakfast...or maybe by now it's lunch..." The blond refused, stating what he wanted yet again.

"And you say I'm stubborn..." Oliver muttered to the Italian as the other sighed wistfully. The artist responded by smacking his best friend on the shoulder to shut him up and stop his complaining.

"Hey! What was that for?" Enrique demanded.

"Stop complaining!" Oliver answered.

"I was only sighing." the blond defended himself with this excuse.

"Well I'm painting." The Frenchman said decisively, "Hey! Where'd Trouble go?"

"I don't know, he probably just wandered off again." Enrique said lazily. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be trying to forget his hunger by taking a nap—as if he hadn't slept enough today.

"No..." Oliver was looking around, trying desperately to find his now lost kitten. "He was just here—" suddenly, the green haired teen spotted the kitten.

Trouble was fast asleep, curled up in the same spot Oliver had placed him in again and again earlier that day.

The Frenchman smiled slightly. "So now you decide to sit still."

"What?" The Italian opened his eyes and sat up quickly. Upon seeing the cat, he chuckled. "You know you could always paint him now." he informed his best friend.

"Alright, but I'll have to re-outline the whole thing..." he did just that, taking advantage of the kitten's not-so-frequent stillness.

About twenty minutes passed and Oliver had gotten pretty far with his painting. He'd managed to get several basic outlines done with the white paint and a few shadows had also been painted around Trouble.

But of course, Enrique was still very hungry and there was soon an interruption. "Oli," the Italian whined, "can we eat now?"

"No," his best friend answered him, "just wait a little longer."

Enrique groaned."But surely you have enough done that we can go eat and you can finish that later!" he continued with his whining.

"I told you Enri, just a little longer. Then I'll make you lunch."

"Lunch?! So it's lunchtime now?" Suddenly, Enrique was even more hungry than before. "Oliver, please! I haven't eaten all day! I'm starving!" he complained some more.

"Then go get something to eat. There are plenty of restaurants all around here. I'm not quite finished yet." Oliver suggested this to the stubborn Italian for the second time that day.

"No! I already told you, I want you to make me something." Enrique pouted, "Please?"

"Oh alright! Just give me five or ten minutes."

"Okay..." the blond agreed miserably.

Just then, the small and sleeping kitten stirred.

"Don't wake up!" Oliver willed the kitten to go back to sleep, "Please don't wake up!"

But, alas, this was not to be. Trouble stood up and stretched in that adorable way that all kittens stretch in. He then crawled his way unsteadily over to the two friends and rubbed his face on Oliver's knee again.

The Frenchman sighed. "Why couldn't you stay asleep?"

"Aw, come on Oli. He's cute! And I'm sure you can finish that painting from there. If you can't, though, it looks fine that way." Enrique picked up Trouble and placed the little kitten in his lap, scratching under its chin as it purred.

Oliver mumbled incoherently for a while, then gave in to the adorableness. "Alright. I suppose you're right...again." he paused, "I just wish that kitten wasn't so troublesome."

The blond Italian played with the kitten a little longer, but of course it wasn't long before his stomach growled again. "Can you make me lunch now?"

His companion rolled his gray-lavender eyes. "Is food all you ever think about?"

Enrique crossed his arms. "When I'm hungry."

"Oh yeah, the rest of the time you spend thinking about girls."

"You've been hanging out with Johnny too much." the blond informed his friend.

Oliver laughed lightly. "Okay, come on. I'll make you something to eat."

"Finally!" Enrique stood up with the kitten in his arms, occasionally petting it as it squirmed and twitched its tail.

The artist stood as well, looking at his friend with a lopsided smile on his face.

"Why are you staring at me?" the blue eyed teen asked as he stroked the kitten (which was purring).

Oliver's smile widened. "You look adorable."

Well, there you have it! I'm actually quite proud of this one. It was fun to write and I hope you enjoyed your present Mace!! I wanted to make it extra good since I didn't write you anything for Christmas...

I'll leave you readers to decide what you want to happen next. If you are a yaoi fan, then you can end it with a profession of love and a make out session. If you are not a yaoi fan, you can end it with Enri getting angry and chasing Oliver...whichever you prefer.

R&R if you please!!