"What the fuck?!" Crowley blinked and scowled at the creature responsible for the overflow of his precious Craig that now stained his desk. Oh, there would be Hell to pay for this. Bobbing in the beverage, a cygnet kicked more water out, shaking its puffball wings. Crowley lowered himself into the seat behind his desk, watching the cygnet with a deadly scowl. Last time he checked, he did not purchase real estate on earth near a body of water. That meant one thing. "This has Bambi written all over it. Bambi! Get your fat ass in here!"
The infantile waterfowl peeped and continued to float. He remembered when she first brought the damn things to his home last week.
Crowley observed the sickening, tooth-rotting scene: a child curled protectively around a nest of wild cygnets in a run down shed. A few gardeners informed him moments ago that a girl was sleeping in the back of the musty old thing that came with the property. None of them knew anything about Bambi since she usually stayed indoors, so he had to have them killed. A shame really. His hounds would take care of the corpses; they deserved a treat every once in a while.
He stepped closer, until he was looking down at his charge, counting the sleeping or lazily playing cygnets. They were a mix of grey and white; a few watched the demon while others continued to nibble at each other's stubby wings. When the demon crouched and then kneeled, lifting a hand and moving it in their direction, the nest erupted in a cacophony of chirps and rustling straw, opening the child's eyes. She reached out a hand to stroke the noisy things, coaxing them to sit and rest again. They continued to chirp at intervals, but they were gradually calming. She was watching him warily.
The prediction came true the instant said human entered the study after knocking, not waiting for a response, and drifting to the demon's desk. With keen eyes, Crowley witnessed the girl's ruffled appearance, his scowl deepening significantly when Bambi took several moments to stare mutely at the bird instead of address him properly. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a thirteen year old in the middle of…he shuddered at the thought of it: the change. She was an ugly thing, and he reminded her of it every day. Her eyes were dull, she had that disgusting acne, and she hacked all off her hair off. Her frame was too lanky and she wore…ugh, baggy sweaters. Her face was always fixed in a frown too, not that a smile would make her any more attractive.
"Is this how the King of the Crossroads enjoys his liquor?"
"No, it's too alive for that."
They stared at each other in defiant silence before Bambi took the initiative, breaking her gaze and approaching the cygnet that chirped at the girl as if she was its mother.
"It wandered away when I was sleeping. I have kept track of the others."
"Others?!" Crowley snapped. "You mean you let the whole bloody flock into my house?!"
"You haven't noticed until now. You won't notice again."
"No."
"If you don't let me, I'll tell Lilith who you were sleeping with last night."
Crowley froze and growled. "Bitch."
"Prick."
Crowley reclined in his chair to watch as a pale hand lifted the duckling from the cup with grace, perfectly controlled and without caution. Her blue eyes met his currently green ones and observed as the glass poured itself out an unopened window before returning to be cleaned later. She nodded to him, but the door slammed in her face.
"You're forgetting something."
"May I leave, Sir?"
Crowley smirked and opened the door, watching her frumpy retreating form until she took a turn towards the stairs.
It was unusual not to see Bambi several times during the day. In fact, Crowley hadn't seen his ward since their little…talk earlier. Scowling, he began searching the house until he found her in the bathroom. How long had she been in there, he wondered. It had been several hours since he'd allowed her to leave, but surely she couldn't have been in there the whole damn time. Crowley opened the door only a small bit and nearly broke the doorknob in his grasp. In the bath that he paid to maintain, eight infant swans paddled about, oftentimes into one another as they nipped at their wings. Bambi was kneeling on the tile floor with her arms on the rim of the bathtub, the air humid with steam. Wait a second…why the Hell was he sneaking around his own house?!
When the door opened, a noticeable draft rushed into the room, but the invasion was cut short when Crowley shut the door behind him. Bambi glanced back at the black-clad figure with a wary scowl. Crowley smirked, glad he made her uncomfortable. Once she was sure he was only observing, she returned her gaze to the tub as a warm hand splashed at the water that distracted the birds. A few inquisitive birds paddled towards his hand, cheeping loudly. Crowley watched as Bambi smirked, flicking water at the cygnet before rubbing its head; he scowled at that. Only he should get to decide when she was happy.
Virtually oblivious to the tension in the bathroom between the human and the demon, a cygnet scratched at its bill with a webbed foot; so, as a seasoned hunter with acute senses sharpened to detect any sudden opportunity, Bambi took the chance to stroke the bird's back. The next flurry of action came as a handful of them decided to have a very sudden and brief race across the tub, sending droplets of water flying to dampen spots on Bambi's sweatshirt sleeve, one drop touching her face gently as she smiled. Crowley scowled again and folded his arms over his chest. He couldn't have her too happy. He still had control; all he had to do was tighten the leash a bit.
Various heads dipped into the water to snatch at imaginary fish. Maybe he could cajole them into committing suicide by drowning? Bambi would make him do something about it though. Hell cygnets and Hell hounds…no, absolutely not worth his trouble. One of them, braver or hungrier than the rest, decided to see if Bambi's hand was edible. The nibbling beak presently chirped in disappointment as Bambi gently flicked its little head as punishment and the waterfowl swam off to complain to its siblings. Well, at least she was teaching the stupid things.
"Can I help you, Sir?"
"Oh nothing," Crowley said calmly. "Just making sure you don't overstep your boundaries. This little group bath is pushing it."
The tension grew. "Understood, Sir."
