Chapter 10
Birdy stood back as she watched Creed brush his hair before pulling it back into a ponytail at the base of his skull. She really hoped Burns' idea worked. If not, there wasn't much of a back up plan.
Victor Brushed off his shoulders in the full length mirror. He'd actually sided with the idea of wearing a shirt this time, much to Birdy's relief. A black Polo shirt, with black LV slacks. Casual, without looking scruffy.
"Just remember. Stay calm." She offered gently as she fetched his shoes.
"I don't need ya tellin' me what ta do Birdy." He snapped back.
"I...I'm just saying Boss. It'll help, that's all." Before Birdy could close her mouth she received a clip to the side head, causing her to yelp.
"Goddamnit Frail! I told ya! Stop tellin' me what ta do already!" He almost yelled, raising his hand to strike her again. Birdy cowered back, bumping into the dresser.
"Mr Creed?" Burns called from the doorway, stopping Creed mid hit.
"What?" Creed barked.
"Layla's asking for Birdy. She needs to get dressed." The other man replied, entering the room.
Victor sneered, but backed off Birdy allowing her to quickly scurry from the room, smiling thankfully at Burns as she passed. The older man simply winked, and closed the door after her.
"Jesus, woman." Victor mumbled as he went back to primping himself in the mirror, pulling a little ball of fluff from his black slacks.
"Mr Creed?"
"What?" He growled, not bothering to turn to look at Burns. He knew what he was going to say. And unlike Birdy, the guy wouldn't cower under threatening.
"For once. Only once Victor..." So its getting personal, is it? "Listen to what Birdy's told ya. Take it easy and stay calm."
Victor muttered under his breath while pulling at the material of his shirt. "I aint a Goddamn baby sitter Burns."
"True. But you are Layla's guardian. And she needs stability Vic."
"Well then 'er daddy left 'er ta tha wrong person then didn't he!" Victor snarled, stepping up to Burns, who glared back at him without even flinching.
"You asked for her Vic." He responded quietly. "Or have you forgotten that recently?"
With a snort of aggravation, Victor turned and headed for his bedside table, grabbing another bottle of drink he kept to help him sleep.
"Victor." Burns trailed after him. " You've been preparing for this since coming home the day after she was born. You've made plans for her. Sure, it's a little...Ok, a lot earlier than you wanted, but she's here now."
Victor stared longingly at the whiskey bottle. He absently remarked, "I can't raise a Kid Burns..." He let the statement hang in the air. Both men knew he wasn't the fathering, caring type. Not now, and not ever.
"I know. But that's why me and Birdy are here Vic. We're gonna help." Burns placed a hand on Creed's shoulder and shrugged. "You've just gotta learn to relax. If only with Layla. Your too tense about being round her."
Victor shrugged off his hand, leaving Burns standing alone as he rounded the bed and stood in front of the mirror again.
"Fuck off Burns." He mumbled.
Burns chuckled, rounding the bed and heading for the door.
"We'll wait till you're settled in the study before bringing Layla. The strawberries are already in there, in the chilled bowl. And for God sakes, stay calm." He told Victor. The feral mutant nodded without a word and Burns left.
"Why?"
"Why what, honey?" Birdy asked, helping Layla tug her t shirt over her head.
"Why do I have to see Mr Creed again. I don't wanna. I get scared." The little girl whined pitifully.
Birdy sighed. She gently straightened up Layla's shirt and Jeans, patting away any fluff as she went. "It'll be different this time Layla. I promise."
"But what if it isn't?" Layla sniffed, leaning in to hug Birdy. The older woman rubbed her back, comforting her and hoping that she wasn't lying to her. "Layla. It will be different this time. Burns has talked with you and Mr Creed and he says that you two should be ok this time."
Layla's big blue eyes looked up at Birdy's. "Will Burns be there with us?"
Birdy shook her head. "Burns says you two need to become friends on your own. Not with him or me there."
Layla groaned into Birdy's shoulder, her grip on Birdy's shirt becoming tighter. "I don't wanna..."
The door to the study closed without a sound. Victor didn't want Burns or Birdy to think he was ready yet, because he simply wasn't.
Sitting on the sofa, he tucked a few loose strands of hair behind his ear and turned his attention to the silver bowl sat on the new coffee table. Birdy had all the furniture in the room replaced after his and Layla's first meeting, but he'd managed to break the new coffee table every time after that. Hopefully this one would survive this meeting.
The bowl still had ice up the sides, showing that it had been chilled up until not long ago.
Gingerly leaning over the bowl, Sabretooth lifted the silver lid and almost jumped back from the horribly sickly sweet smell. How this was ever going to work was beyond him. He didn't doubt Layla like the juicy red fruits, but he knew it would take him a lot of will power not to leave the room because of their goddamn smell.
He quickly replaced the lid and sat back. He needed to chill. Absently, his hand wondered to the side table next to the sofa, finding the well used ash tray, and the cigar that sat in it, forgotten until that moment. Victor rolled the half smoked cigar between his fingers, contemplating whether to smoke the rest to help with his anxiety.
What if she starts cryin' again? What if she cowers in tha corner like the last time? Why am I dealin' with this shit alone? Why isn't Birdy or Burns in 'ere tryin' ta help? Fuckin' slackers. I should sack 'em and snuff 'em out! Victor thought bitterly. He was pretty sure he was about as reluctant to do this as the little girl was. He wasn't a kid person. They irritated the shit out of him. Although, Layla hadn't made such a nuisance of herself. He guessed it could have been so much worse.
Layla played quietly. She rarely spoke and seemed reserved and intelligent. She stayed out of his way, more than he would have preferred, but he'd hopefully work on that. She did, however, have the irritating habit of following Burns around like his was some kind of protection. That made Victor's jaw tighten.
The little girl was fucking with his head. He was sure of it now. Finally sitting up, he reached for the matches on the coffee table and lit the cigar. Sure, he was protective over his stuff, but why the fuck would he be jealous of the guy he hired to take care of his house, just because some little brat liked him more than Victor?
There was a knock on the door, and Burns' face peered round the wood of the door.
"Ready?" He asked. He could see the bitterness in Victor's expression, but it was now or never. Layla was still complaining about having to be in the same room as Creed, but she wasn't crying or screaming, so it was best to try it now she was as calm as she would be.
Victor grunted, sucking on the cigar and swallowing back the smoke, allowing it to burn his throat and lungs.
Burns nodded and closed the door again.
Burns turned to Birdy and Layla who were waiting down the hallway. "Ok Layla. Are you ready?"
The little girl shook her head and Birdy sighed. "I promise it won't be bad Layla. Please. Just try for me and Burns, please?"
Layla looked between Birdy and Burns, becoming a little confused by their different expressions. Birdy looked tired and tense about the whole situation. She'd been muttering to herself all morning about Layla not being up to his kind of mental punishment again. Layla hadn't really known what she was talking about, but it didn't sound good.
Burns, on the other hand, looked relaxed, and ...happy? Layla couldn't be sure. Her daddy had taught her how to read people, telling her it was important for her to understand the people she would meet in her life, but the expression Burns gave were hard to understand. He seemed pleased about something. Confident even. About what exactly? Layla hadn't the faintest idea.
"Ok." Layla said quietly. He legs moved slowly as she edged toward burns. She stopped just in front of him, eyes falling on the door expectantly.
"Now Layla." Burns Voice soothed down at her. Layla looked back up at him, their eyes meeting.
"Remember what we talked about. Give Mr Creed a chance this time before you get scared. There really isn't anything to be worried about." Apart from the crazy man in the room with her she thought to herself.
"This is important you and Mr Creed get on Layla. Please try. Mr Creed isn't going to eat you." Burns chuckled. Layla wasn't so confident, but she nodded and Burns smiled, patting her on the head and reaching for the door handle.
"Mr Creed." Burns greeted respectfully as he opened the door, nudging Layla in just before him. Mr Creed didn't answer. His eyes were closed as his head rested against the back of the sofa.
Burns nudged Layla again, causing her to look up at him. "Go on." He whispered. She didn't understand what he meant until he motioned to armchair off to the side of the sofa. She gulped and nodded, taking nervous steps further into the room.
She eyed Creed all the way to the chair, only looking away when she heard the door click closed behind her.
Victor could feel her eyes watching him, even though his senses were clouded by the cigar smoke. Her little heart was hammering in her chest, but at least she wasn't crying.
There was a yelp of surprise when he spoke.
"Layla."
Se remained quiet, staring nervously as a grin spread slowly across his face, revealing the set of sharp teeth that he kept hidden behind his lips. His eyes opened and fell over to her, now seated on the edge of the armchair. She shuddered at his gaze. His eyes were a darker blue than hers, like a clear sky in summer. The stare was strong and piercing, as if he was looking straight into her soul.
The sting of tears made her eyes itch. She turned her eyes away, looking over at the silver bowl, not really noticing what it was as she tried not to look back at Creed.
Layla appeared to physically shrink under Victor's stare. The smell of fear rolled off her, tainting the air in the room.
"Layla?" He purred again, watching curiously as she jumped at the use of her name. "Not gonna answer?" he asked her. She twitched as she tried not to shake.
"I know ya speak frail. That shit might have played out well when ya first got 'ere, but I've heard ya talkin' to Burns and Birdy." He drawled, taking a drag from his smouldering cigar. Layla remained silent and still in her seat.
"Why not me? Don't cha wanna talk ta me frail?" He was actually quite surprised when she shook her head. Well at least she was listening.
"Why?" He purred, trying to cover the growl that was growing in his chest.
When she didn't answer, Victor huffed in aggravation and tapped his claws against the arm of the sofa as his frustration began to build.
"Are ya scared of me Layla?" He asked a little more firmly. Her eyes finally lifted from the bowl on the table to look at his face, only to look away again once she saw his scowl.
"I'll take that as a yes then, shall I?" Sinking back into the plush sofa a little, he finally looked over at the bowl holding the strawberries.
"So, I guessin' ya don't want these then?" He kicked the table softly, causing the bowl the jump.
Layla's gaze on the bowl suddenly focused and she realised where she'd seen the bowl before. Victor noticed her eyes grow with realisation.
"Ya know what's in tha bowl Layla?" he smirked. Layla went to nod, but stopped herself at the last moment.
Victor saw her reaction, and allowed his smirk to drop into mock sadness.
"No? Oh well. I guess ya don't want any then, huh frail?" he sighed, leaning forward and lifting the lid on the bowl.
He watched out the corner of his eye as Layla's eyes grew wide as she watched over the strawberries. The smirk tried to creep back, but he swallowed it and managing to keep his sad expression.
"Well..." Victor shrugged. "Looks like I'm gonna have ta eat 'em all by my one." And with that, leaned over the bowl and stabbed a strawberry with a sharp black claw. Victor's insides tightened with disgust at what he was going to do. Jesus, was he that desperate to be liked? A small voice managed to shout over the others in his mind. ATTENTION WHORE!
Victor shook it off, since when had he started listening to the voices? It was only one strawberry. How bad could it be?
He sat back, taking one last glance over at Layla who was watching him in curiosity. Inhaling, he opened his mouth a pushed the strawberry in and chewed. It took a second or two, but he couldn't hold back the cringe when it came. Covering his mouth with his hand, he tried not to gag. Damn! Why the fuck did he do that?
He cringed again as he swallowed. There was a snort of laughter from the armchair, and Victor looked over to Layla, who was trying to hold back her laughter with her hand. A growl soon set her straight, the smile dropping, along with the laughter.
They sat in silence for a moment or two before Victor finally gagged and began to curse. His face contorted and twisted with disgust.
"You don't really like strawberries, do you?" a tiny voice paused his swearing. Looking over, he raised an eyebrow at Layla's smiling face.
"No." He grunted, grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the table and gulping down the contents.
"It was pretty dumb to eat one then wasn't it?" Layla shrugged.
Victor almost slammed the bottle down on the table in raising anger. "I only did it to be spiteful to you!" He snapped.
Layla's smiled disappeared and her bottom lip began to tremble, quickly followed by her eyes tearing up.
It dawned on Victor as he watched the little girl, that he'd probably just fucked up the little progress he'd just made with her. Fuck!
Running his clawed hands through his hair and over his face he huffed. "I was only pullin' ya leg frail. Don't start ya damn cryin'!"
Surprisingly, Layla's tears didn't fall. Instead, something in her seemed to bristle in anger.
"Your mean!" she snapped unexpectedly.
Victor blinked in confusion. "Whoa?"
"YOU! You're a mean, mean man!" She bit back at him. "And deaf too if you didn't hear me!"
Victor's jaw slacked. He certainly hadn't expected this. "I'm mean am I, Layla?"
"Yes." She said firmly.
"I'm mean? Oh, sure. I'm mean. I've given you that room, all those toys. This house to live in! And I'm mean?" He hissed.
"Yes!" she snapped, almost throwing herself forward from her chair. "You've been nothing but mean to me since I got here! You've been mean. You've scared me! And you smell!"
Victor growled. "Hey! I showered this morning!"
"I don't care." Layla recoiled. "You smell to me."
Victor sat dumb, before laughter ripped free of his being. He threw himself back into the sofa, shaking with the force of his laughter. The action only seemed to anger Layla more, her little, heart shaped face blushing with rage.
"Now you're laughing at me!" she snarled. It was a snarl Victor himself would have been proud of, if only he hadn't been laughing so hard.
"I aint laughin' at you frail." He managed to pant out.
"Well who then? 'Cos there's no one else in the room." She snapped back.
Victor inhaled deep, trying to regain himself. "I just weren't expectin' ya ta be so gutsy, that's all frail."
Layla sat glaring at him. Her tiny arms crossed over her chest. "And stop calling me that!" she demanded. "My name's Layla you stupid man."
"Yea. I'd guessed that one." Victor chuckled sarcastically.
"I hope you get hit by a truck." She growled under her breath.
"Yea, and if ya keep hoping fer shit like that frail, I'm gonna dangle ya outta a 3rd floor window by ya socks."
"meanie." She scowled.
"Always have been, and always will be, kiddo. So ya better learn ta like it. Quickly." Her purred, grinning over at her.
Silence descended on them again and Victor sighed. He was actually quite pleased. He liked the fact she had venom in her when she needed it. She'd just have to learn not to keep using it on him.
"So ya want ya damn strawberries or not?" he asked her as he stretched out on the sofa.
Layla stared at the bowl. He could see she wanted them, but she wasn't attempting to near them at all.
"You'll just take them off me if I try to get one." She spat.
"Fuck off and stop being stupid frail. I aint interested in whether ya eat the damn things or not, just as long as ya stop snappin' at me." He rolled his eyes and yawned.
She shuffled from her seat, reaching out to the bowl, and pulling it to her by her tiny fingertips. Victor had closed his eyes and was listening contently to the soft squelching as she chewed the fruits.
"Mr Creed?" she asked, breaking the quiet.
"What?"
"I still hate you and I still think you're a dick..." that one caught him off guard. "But thank you for my toys."
Glancing at her, not quite sure he liked her new found confidence, he shrugged. "Sure, whatever."
It wasn't long until his peace was broken again, this time by a nudging on his thigh. Opening his eyes again, she glared at Layla and the bowl of fruit in her grip.
"Move your legs please. I wanna sit on the sofa."
He scowled and snorted. "No." Layla rolled her eyes and nudged his leg again when he closed his eyes. "You're a dick. Ya know that." She sneered.
"Do ya even know what you're on about frail?" he snapped, grabbing the front of her shirt and pulling her up to sit on his abdomen.
"I do actually." She sneered arrogantly again. "It means your being mean to me again."
"Alright frail. Whatever, now just shut up, before I show ya what a real dick I am!"