Disclaimer: I own jack-diddly-squat.

I don't even know what this is. I saw the MUCH NEEDED Lord Tubbington character slot, and I had to christen it.

Contains Brittany, Lord Tubbington, Charity, Finn, Kurt, Santana, and some Puck and Mike.

Brittany knew it would be a mistake to let Lord Tubbington out of the house. He was an inside cat, and inside cats needed to stay inside, else they would transform into outside cats like lions or tigers or pumas and terrorize the neighborhood – or something equally terrible. That's why she didn't mind when he gained a few extra pounds here and there and everywhere, it was for the greater good.

There wasn't enough money in her Porky Pig Bank to cover the fine for torn limbs, she was sure.

So when she sat on her bed and called her precious obese feline a few times and he didn't come, she brushed it off. Worry was the enemy. Lord Tubbington was never particularly motivated or mobile, and he was a cat, so he ignoring her was no surprise.

Instead, she grabbed the tin can of cat treats from her kitchen cabinets and shook it vigorously, hoping the rattling would resonate through every nook and cranny where Lord Tubbington could fit. The only result she got for her efforts was a spry Charity padding into the kitchen, rubbing herself against Brittany's legs for a touch of salmon-flavored goodness.

Brittany laid a few treats for the cat before heading into the dining room, where Charity's and Lord Tubbington's beds lay in the corner. Lord Tubbington's pallet lay cold, without the usual deep depression from the cat's weight sunk into it.

At this point, Brittany was beginning to grow nervous. It was late at night; her beloved feline should have been either sleeping or eating – though that was usually all he did during the day as well. She rushed upstairs, fingers tugging at her pyjama shirt anxiously. She checked everywhere in the guest room – on the bed, under the bed, in the drawers, behind the television stand – she checked the hall bathroom, she checked the linen closet, she knocked on her parents' bedroom to ask if they had seen the cat – they hadn't.

Then, she flew down the stairs, nearly slipping on her socked feet against the hardwood floor. She checked down in the basement near the litter box, in the laundry room where the cats sometimes liked to scratch at rugs hanging to dry, and even the utility room, where the cats liked to hide sometime.

By the end of the hour, the frantic blonde had searched the house twice over. Lord Tubbington was gone.

–

When Finn heard the scratching at the front door, he was half asleep on his bed. He groaned and figured he would deal with the killer at the door – who else would bother someone this late at night? – later, maybe once he got eight more hours of sleep. Or maybe never.

But the scratching persisted, and he threw a pillow at his bedroom door, which really was a terrible idea in hindsight, as the scratching was at the house door, and the pillow could have been used to drown out the sound. Unfortunately, hindsight was, for some reason, always too late, and the sound was beginning to lift the sleepy haze from his mind.

Moaning like the dead, Finn rose from his bed and shuffled down the seemingly endless flight of stairs, sure that he resembled a zombie. When he reached the front door, he looked out of the side window to see if the murderer was bigger than him. He saw nothing, but the scratching was still there.

Figuring it was probably a ghost, Finn grabbed the vacuum from the hall closet, not bothering with things like plugging the machine in. He opened the door with a hearty yawn to see nothing there. Then he remembered that ghosts couldn't be seen and prepared to turn on the vacuum, until he saw a shuffling down below.

It was a cat. A really really fat cat, just sitting there looking up at him, tail swishing from side to side now and then. Finn wondered if he should suck the ghost out of the cat – that had to be the reason it was so big, right? From being full of ectoplasm and ghost evilness?

"What in the world are you doing up and…why do you have a vacuum?" Finn turned to see Kurt emerging drowsily from his basement bedroom, looking particularly lady fabulous in his shiny pyjamas.

"You better not be calling me lady fabulous in your head," Kurt warned, and Finn's eyes widened and he turned back around to the ghost cat. He had forgotten that Kurt could still be terrifying in shimmering lavender sleep clothes.

Ghost cat still hadn't budged and inch, which made it creepier. Kurt sidled up next to him to look down at the cat, and Finn was glad that Kurt could see it too. "I swear I've seen this cat before," Kurt murmured, kneeling down to its level. The cat stood and rubbed its forehead against Kurt's hand, purring like a motorcycle.

"Dude, don't touch it. It's still got ghost in it," Finn said and tried to turn on the vacuum, which wasn't working for some reason. Kurt glared up at him, as if what he said didn't make sense, before scratching behind the feline's ear, to its delight.

"I'm going to see if we have any tuna left," Kurt stood and sauntered into the kitchen, and Finn remembered the gross-looking-but-delicious-tasting healthy tuna gunk Kurt made earlier with a rumbling stomach. The cat followed Kurt inside, as if it already knew it was getting food.

Finn kept his vacuum armed, just in case.

–

The first thing Brittany did when she awoke in the morning was rush to the back door in the kitchen. To her disappointment, Lord Tubbington was nowhere to be found. Dejected, Brittany trudged into the dining room to get Charity, when she saw not one, but two cats lying in their beds, sleeping peacefully.

Ecstatic, she grabbed Lord Tubbington with a bit of difficulty, giving the feline a kiss on the head and hugging him tightly. She guessed that one of her parents must have let him into the house before they left for work. The cat yawned widely, but did not object to the affection.

"Don't you ever run away again, kitty," Brittany admonished, giving the cat another kiss and scratching the scruff of his neck vigorously. "If you do, I'm so getting you neutered."

Lord Tubbington purred in her arms but promised nothing.

–

Later that same day, Brittany sat in her room, alone, prepared to do Fondue for Two. The special spot she had made for Lord Tubbington on her bed lay barren. Brittany stared at the spot intensely, waiting for her guest to make his appearance. The red light of the camera blinked repeatedly, already recording the lonely girl.

"Well, I was supposed to interview Lord Tubbington today…and find out how he's doing with his GED," Brittany flipped her hair and spoke to the camera, trying to keep the frown from her face, "but as you can see, he's not here. So instead, I'm going to show you how to de-toast your bread."

Throughout the show, Brittany kept her bedroom door open, hoping the cat would walk in at any moment.

–

"Finn, he's not a ghost."

"How else do you explain why he's so big?

"Oh I don't know, maybe from something non-supernatural and reasonable? Like eating?

"You don't get fat like that from just eating."

Kurt rolled his eyes at his younger step-brother. The strange cat had returned the next day in the afternoon, scratching at their door and interrupting Finn attempting to teach Kurt how to play Call of Duty. The game made Kurt realize why he preferred to hang out with those of the opposite gender. They were less likely to shoot him to death.

Currently, the brothers were sitting on the floor in Kurt's room, cat in between them. Finn poked at the cat's stomach, apparently trying to get the cat to throw up the ghost in its stomach. Kurt slapped his hand away each time, wanting no ghost essence on his clean carpet.

"What should we name it?" Finn asked, picking up the cat up and weighing it in his hand. Kurt could tell he was straining.

"We don't call it anything. It's not our cat," Kurt replied, standing and walking over to his vanity.

"Why not? It keeps coming to our house," Finn set the cat down in his lap, petting it and poking its stomach while Kurt had his back turned.

"Stop poking his stomach, Finn. If he throws up, you're going to be the one cleaning it up," Kurt said without turning around, rummaging around in his drawers.

Finn pouted, but ceased poking. "I think we should name it Catsper."

"Catsper?"

"See, it's like Casper the friendly ghost, but he's a ghost cat, so it's Cat-sper," Finn suggested with a half smile, quite proud of what he thought was a clever name.

Kurt conceded – Finn was too adorable to deny sometimes. "Fine, he can be…Catsper." Kurt returned, holding a strip of gray cashmere fabric between his fingers. He sat back down in his place in front of Finn and gestured for Finn to lower the cat.

"What's that for?" Finn questioned, but did not remove the cat from his lap. Kurt rolled his eyes again and shuffled closer, shoving Finn's hands away so he could wrap the fabric loosely around the feline's neck.

"It's a bit of cashmere I had left over from my sweater train. It makes the perfect miniature scarf, don't you think?" Kurt leaned back and clasped his hands together, admiring the fashion-savvy feline. Finn looked down to the cat, up to Kurt, then back to the cat again.

"Dude, you're so lady fabulous."

"Shut up, Finn."

–

The next morning, Lord Tubbington was in his bed again, sleeping as if he hadn't betrayed Brittany's trust. Brittany glared down at the treacherous animal, crossing her arms and tapping her foot against the carpet. She wouldn't have him neutered, but he certainly wouldn't be allowed to watch One Tree Hill with her for at least a month.

A shame for him; things were getting good.

Kneeling down, Brittany noticed something. A gray piece of fabric that looked like a cat scarf was wrapped around Lord Tubbington's neck. She looked over the scarf without taking it off, trying to see if there was anything distinguishing about it so she could find out where her cat was running off to.

After a moment, she stood and skittered off to her room to get her phone. Immediately, she dialed the first number in her Favorites category.

One ring. Two Rings.

"Hello?" Santana answered sleepily from the other end, voice raspier than usual.

"I think Lord Tubbington's being a whore," Brittany sat on the edge of her bed, looking down sadly at her socked feet.

"…what? Who is Lord Tubbington?"

"He's my cat. He keeps sneaking out and I don't know whose house he's going to." Santana didn't answer for a long minute, and Brittany figured that Santana was just as shocked as she had been when she found out. Lord Tubbington had his problems, but he was a good cat. A pillar in the feline community.

"How do you even know he's going to someone's house, Brit? Cats go out and do crap all the time, it's like...their thing or something, I don't know."

"But he came back with a scarf on him," Brittany explained while heading back to the dining room. "I thought he was just supposed to change into an outside cat, not a gay cat." Brittany couldn't bear the thought of Lord Tubbington being gay. She had spent weeks planning for Charity and he to have kittens when Charity came of age. Now she would have to go out and find him a boyfriend and fashionable cat booties.

"A scarf?" Santana snorted. "There's only one person I know whose lady fabulous enough to put a scarf on a cat."

–

Later before glee practice, Brittany approached Finn and Kurt, who were sitting next to each other on the bottom step.

"I know it was you, Kurt," Brittany placed her hands on her hips, glaring at him as best she could – anger really wasn't her strong suit, she much preferred happiness, but these were desperate times.

Kurt blinked, looked to Finn, who shrugged in puzzlement, then back to the accusing girl. "I'm sorry?"

Brittany sighed, not at all happy with Kurt playing dumb. "I know it was your lady fabulousness that made Lord Tubbington gay. Now I'm going to have to spend so much money on his designer cat clothes." She pointed to him fiercely, "You better help me pay for them."

Kurt's face scrunched in confusion. Finn – along with several of the club members in the choir room – made no effort to hide his laughter, until Kurt pinched sensitive skin of his arm to silence him. "What, dare I ask, is a Lord Tubbington?"

"My cat," Brittany rolled her eyes, wondering if anyone paid attention to her web show.

Both Finn and Kurt's eyes lightened with realization and they both turned to each other, simultaneously letting out a long, "Ohhhh."

"No offense, Brittany, but I think your cat's a ghost," Finn nodded.

Kurt turned to the taller boy, leveling him with a hard stare. "For the last time, Finnegan Michael Hudson, it's not a ghost!"

"Dude!" Finn hissed and tried to cover Kurt's mouth, though the damage was already done. Laughter was already bubbling up behind them, mainly from Puck.

"Finnegan?" Puck got out before laughing and elbowing Mike beside him. Finn glared at both of them, then Kurt, then the floor as he crossed his arms. Kurt didn't look the least bit apologetic.

Brittany just wondered when she was going to get her money.

–

"I know you're sorry, and I know you didn't mean to do it, but you've got to promise me that you won't run away again, or you're not getting your PSP back for a week," Brittany sat in her computer chair in her room, giving Lord Tubbington the most condescending stare she could.

On her bed, Lord Tubbington meowed and looked toward her closet, uninterested.

"I understand, sometimes you've got to explore the world out there, because who knows? Maybe you'll find a fresh fish inside a ball of yarn, but life isn't that easy, okay? People don't just give you free fish. Trust me, I've tried," she explained, petting the cat's head.

Lord Tubbington purred and rubbed his forehead against her hand.

"And don't worry, I accept you being gay. If you're lady fabulous like Kurt, maybe you could help me pick out my outfits too," Brittany grinned.

Lord Tubbington had fallen asleep.