Steel(beak) Magnolias: The Crowing Game

Rated: PG-13

Disclaimer: All the characters in this story except for Gruff and Dr. Quack belong to Disney. Note: I am soooo sorry about the mix-up the first time I uploaded this. Something's kinda weird with my computer, personally, I think it's possessed, so I apologize profusely.



************ They were seated with a glass of wine each by 7:45. Steelbeak kept his eyes constantly sweeping the room for Percival Gruff. He found the candlelight to be very distracting. It softened the edges of everything, and bathed the table in its gentle golden light. *it's dat damn candlelight* he thought to himself as his eyes strayed toward Bushroot for the umpteenth time that evening, *it's doin' some'tin weird. Makin' him look. I dunno* Steelbeak tried to search for the appropriate adjective in his mind, unaware that Bushroot had noticed him staring.

"uh, Steelbeak? Is something wrong?"

"wat?!" he jumped in his seat, nearly knocking over his wineglass, "n-no, nothin'. I'm just spacin' out, that's all. I'd bettah ask da host ta see if dis guy's shown up yet." he rose and wove his way through the dancers. He tried to ignore the looks the couples gave each other, as if the rest of the world dissappeared, dancing to their own music as opposed to the soft jazz which the band played.

"may I help you, ma'am?" asked the host as Steelbeak approached him.

At first, Steelbeak couldn't figure out who he was talking to, "oh, er, yeah. 'as sir Percival Gruff gotten 'ere yet?"

the host raised an eyebrow at Steelbeak.

"I gots a meetin' wid 'im." The host looked at his ledger, "yes, he just came in. he's seated over there." He pointed to a table on the opposite of the room from Steelbeak's.

"t'anks, babe."

"er, you're welcome, madam."

Steelbeak returned to his table to grab the purse, in the same shade as his dress, that the attendant insisted he buy. It had turned out to be the perfect carrying case for the padded envelope.

"is he here?" asked Bushroot

"yeah. I should only be a few minutes."

"good luck, Steelbeak." Said Bushroot as Steelbeak turned.

Steelbeak stopped, and turned back toward Bushroot. "um." he looked down at the table, "my name's Valentino. Valentino Volatili. Youse can call me dat, if ya want." He met Bushroot's eyes for a milisecond, then hurried toward the table where FOWL's client sat. Bushroot looked after him. He blinked. Steelbeak had just given him his real name. Was this a big deal? He had seemed nervous when giving the name to Bushroot. Did it *mean* something. Bushroot shook his head at the table and took a drink of his wine. It couldn't mean anything. He took another drink. Nothing at all.

Steelbeak approached the table. The canine wasn't overweight, but certainly well-fleshed, as if he had lived a life of too little excersize and too many steaks. Steelbeak stood at the table and impatiently tapped his stiletto heel until his contact, buried in a roll, noticed him.

"may I help you, miss?"

Steelbeak immediately disliked the man, and felt uncomfortable under his sharp gaze. Steelbeak tilted his beak upwards and looked down it toward Percival, "fowls fly west dis time 'a yeah." He said, trying not to sound like a complete idiot as he did so.

"you're from FOWL?"

Steelbeak sat down at the table opposite him, "why don't ya just shout it, eh? We could always use more publicity." He hissed.

"er. sorry, you're just." he looked Steelbeak up and down, "not what I expected."

"oh no?"

"you see, I was expecting a. uhm. you know, a."

"you can take up yer sexism issues wid FOWL, now do you wanna do dis exchange or not?"

"of course. Do you have it?"

Steelbeak produced the envelope from his purse. He jerked it out of Percival's reach as the canine grabbed for it. "you gots da dough?"

"what's your name?" asked Gruff as he reached into his jacket.

"Stee. er, Valen. er, Valerie."

Sir Percival held out a check to Steelbeak.

Steelbeak looked at it, then looked back at Percival, raising an eyebrow, "tell me yer kiddin'."

Sir Percival Gruff smiled then, "I see you're a sharp one. very well. underneath the table is a briefcase. The money, in cash, is in there."

Steelbeak maneuvered the case with his feet, toward his chair. He grasped the case and pulled it into his lap. Still retaining the envelope, he opened it slightly. He saw neatly stacked wads of $100 bills. He snapped the case shut, and handed Percival the envelope. "it's been nice doin' business wid ya," he stood, taking the case, "shop again wid FOWL." He trotted off, to happily join Bushroot once more.

The plant-duck, upon seeing him return, perked up and smiled. His smile faltered, however, as Steelbeak approached the table. "'ey, what is it?"

Steelbeak felt a heavy hand on his shoulder

"may I trouble you for a dance?" it was Gruff. "it would only be polite. Or does FOWL not extend that courtesy?"

Steelbeak rolled his eyes, sighed and turned around, "fine, but a short one. I'll be right back, reggie." He followed Gruff onto the dance floor.

"your husband is. interesting looking." Gruff took one of Steelbeak's hands in his own, and wrapped the other about Steelbeak's waist.

"He ain't my 'usband, and you gotta problem wid 'ow he looks?"

"Ah, he's your boyfriend?"

"Yes. No! what's it ta youse, anyway?"

"Please, don't take it the wrong way. I'm just trying to make conversation."

Steelbeak had a feeling that that wasn't all he was trying to do.

"I don't suppose that you'd like to continue our. business. in my hotel room." his hand moved downward until it grasped Steelbeak's buttock.

With a gasp and an outraged squeal, Steelbeak stepped back and slapped his hand sharply across Gruff's face.

The canine smiled, "a feisty one, aren't you.?"

"I'll give ya feisty, ya asshole!!" he brought his fist back and smashed it into Gruff's jaw.

Gruff staggered back, holding his jaw, with a shocked look on his face.

"I'm willin' ta ferget dis little incident, but youse try anothah stupid stunt like dat, an not only will ya nevah do business wid FOWL ever again, I'll see to it personally dat you'll nevah be able ta show yer ugly face in polite society again!" Steelbeak turned to find a very concerned Bushroot standing behind him.

"are you alright?" his brow was furrowed with worry.

To add scathing insult to injury, Steelbeak grabbed Bushroot, placed the duck's leafy hands scandalously low on his back, wrapped his arms around a blushing Bushroot's shoulders, and smirked at Gruff.

Gruff, trying to ignore the haughty, scornful stares being shot in his direction, smoothed out the front of his suit and bowed, "It was lovely meeting you, Valerie." He muttered, then spun on his heel and stomped off.

"dat'll teach 'im ta mess wid me!" Steelbeak muttered, "fer anyone ta tink dat I'm dat kind a' goil." he scoffed.

Bushroot couldn't hold back a smile, "what kind of girl are you, 'Valerie'?"

Steelbeak, realizing what he'd said, blushed in turn and grinned at Bushroot, "I'm a decent kinda goil. Jus' because I woik as a spy fer an international theiving organization don't mean I sleep around."

"of course." Said Bushroot.

After three minutes of Bushroot and Steelbeak alternately stepping on each other's feet, Steelbeak exclaimed, "wait a minute! Who da 'ell is leading?!"

"well, traditionally, the man is supposed to."

"ta 'ell wid tradition, I wanna tango!"

"but I don't know how!"

Steelbeak grabbed Bushroot's hand, thrust their clasped hands in front of them, pressed himself against the startled scientist, and stomped across the room. Once they reached the end of the dance floor, Steelbeak swung Bushroot down into a dip "dat's 'ow ya tango!" he exclaimed. He realized how close their faces were. He felt Bushroot's breath in his face, and felt the pounding of his own heart growing faster.

Abruptly, both parties straightened, looking at the floor.

"err, I ordered for both of us. I hope that's alright. The food might be ready, now." without waiting for Steelbeak's reply, Bushroot headed off in the direction of their table.

They sat across from each other, their eyes glued to their plates. Steelbeak grabbed his wineglass and finished it in one gulp. He immediately ordered another bottle . Thirty minutes later, Steelbeak sat, slumped, in his chair, staring unashamedly at Bushroot through half-closed eyes. He saw the world through a pleasant haze, made golden by the candlelight.

Bushroot, who's face seemed to be permanently flushed for the evening, was still nursing his second glass of wine and nibbling on a roll. He would periodically risk a glance up to Steelbeak's face, and immediately lower his eyes once again, as he confirmed that Steelbeak was still staring at him.

"y'know, yer pretty cute, b-Bushroot." Steelbeak's words were slurred with alcohol. He slumped down in his chair, and, freeing one foot from his shoe, began to run his foot up the inside of Bushroot's leg. "a goil'z gotta be pretty lucky t'be zeen wid' youse, I can tell ya."

Bushroot, looking alarmed, grasped Steelbeak's foot in his hand before it could reach his crotch. "I- I think maybe you've had enough wine for tonight."

Steelbeak leaned forward, giving bushoot an eyefull of his impressive cleavage. "'re youse suggestin' dat I can't 'old my drinkz?"

"well, no, of course not, but-"

Steelbeak abruptly stood up, swaying on his feet and gulped his last swallow of wine before declaring, "I'm'n italien, get it? if anyone c'n 'old dere wine, I can!" he grabbed the arm of a passing waitress, "gimme anothah bottle, willya babe?"

feeling suddenly protective of his inebriated companion, Bushroot stood up and took Steelbeak's arm gently, and managed to pry the wineglass from his hand. He grabbed the briefcase full of money, gave the waitress an apologetic look as he steered Steelbeak toward the front of the restaurant.

It took the rooster a full ten minutes to pay for their meal and get his coat on. He leaned heavily on Bushroot's shoulder as they took the elevator down.

"I think I'd better drive." Suggested Bushroot as they left the elevator and headed toward the glass double-doors.

"why? B'cause yer a guy? 'c-cause yer da big macho man? It's 'cause I'm a woman, ain't it?"

"it's because you're drunk." Stated Bushroot frankly.

A porter politely opened the door for them.

"I am not!" scoffed Steelbeak, right before he walked past the porter and right into a wall. He complained as Bushroot extracted the keys from his purse, "I wanna talk ta whoever put dat damn wall dere! It's a p-public 'azard! I'm contactin' da mayor about dis!" he called back to the porter who gave Bushroot a sympathetic look. They managed to make it to the car, where Steelbeak abruptly passed out in the passanger seat while Bushroot drove.

Bushroot managed to get the car to Steelbeak's apartment building and, after much shoving and pulling, got the rooster into his apartment. Steelbeak kept sliding his hands under Bushroot's jacket as Bushroot led him into his bedroom.

"so, what're yer planz fer da rest of da night?" asked Steelbeak seductively as he reached behind him to unzip the dress, "ya wanna help me wid dis?"

Bushroot began to sweat profusely as he unzipped the dress. Before he could see what kind of underwear Steelbeak had purchased, he turned to the door, with the intention of going through it. Steelbeak would have no such thing. Surprisingly swift and agile for someone so drunk, he grabbed Bushroot's shoulders from behind and, in one movement, spun him around and pushed him onto the bed. his eyes nearly popped from his head as he saw Steelbeak's black lace-trimmed, leapord-print bra and panties. Steelbeak straddled Bushroot's hips and immediately began working on the buttons to his shirt. "why not stay awhile?" he growled.

"wait! Steelbeak. Valentino," Steelbeak paused and looked up at Bushroot's useage of his real name. Bushroot grasped Steelbeak by his shoulders, "we can't, Valentino. It wouldn't be right. you're not thinking straight right now."

Steelbeak simply stared at him for a moment, considering what Bushroot had said. He finally sighed and climbed off of the relieved plant-duck. Bushroot quickly stood and averted his eyes as Steelbeak stripped out of his underwear in favor of a pair of boxer shorts and a large nightshirt,

"it seems I c'n attract anyone I want. 'cept maybe you." his tone seemed sad, even regretful. When Bushroot turned to look at Steelbeak, he found the rooster already staring at him, a tired, sorrowful look in his eyes.

Suddenly Bushroot felt full of things to say to him. He wanted to ask a million questions, give a million answers and most of all, he wanted to tell Steelbeak that he *was*, in fact, attracted to him, in both male and female form. Instead he turned down Steelbeak's covers and smoothed down the sheet, "I think. I think maybe you should go to sleep now. if. there's something we should talk about. well, it should wait until tomorrow"

Steelbeak obediently crawled under the covers, suddenly too tired to argue. Bushroot made as if to leave, when Steelbeak grasped his wrist. "could you. stay wid me tonight?" there was unhidden pleading in Steelbeak's eyes that Bushroot tried not to think about, lest he assume too much. "please?"

Bushroot suddenly found the possibility of leaving Steelbeak alone like this as impossible as setting fire to his beloved plants. He shrugged out of his coat and pants and crawled in beside Steelbeak. The rooster's body was warm, and he stiffened at first, then relaxed as Steelbeak snuggled up to him. Within 30 seconds, Steelbeak was snoring. Bushroot reached over the edge of the bed and removed the syringes from his coat pocket. Carefully, he took Steelbeak's arm, found a vein, and inserted the needle. Steelbeak snorted once, but didn't wake up. Bushroot placed the empty syringe on the bedside table next to the full one. he then lay back down and closed his eyes. If Steelbeak felt uncomfortable being alone tonight, it would certainly be wrong to leave him, wouldn't it. Bushroot drifted off into the most content sleep he'd had in a long time, wrapped in the warm scent of Steelbeak's body.

**************

Bushroot awoke to morning sunlight streaming in through the cracks between the curtains. He immediately knew something was different. He sat up, and observed that he had been resting his head on a feathery, broad, male chest. He peeked at Steelbeak's face, and found that his crest and flap of skin on his chin had returned. He was guiltily tempted to see if Steelbeak was *completely* male, but his morals kept him from peering inside the sleeping rooster's shorts. He checked Steelbeak's breathing, found that it was normal, as well as his heartbeat and his coloring. He silently slipped out of bed and pulled on his pants, throwing his coat over his arm. He stole a last, longing look at Steelbeak, then slipped out of the door. He wasn't sure at all what a sober Steelbeak would think to wake up to Bushroot in his bed. he probably wouldn't even remember being put to bed, and pleading with Bushroot to stay with him.

Bushroot pulled on his jacket and left the apartment. He walked back to his greenhouse, enjoying the sunlight as it energized his cells, encouraging them towards their photosynthetic duties. By the time he reached his home, he felt refreshed, though no less thoughtful about the night before. He watered his plants, and opened the roof to his greenhouse to let the sun in. he attempted to busy himself. He turned the soil in all the flowerpots, played catch with Spike, and performed vairous other menial tasks in order to clear his head. It wasn't happening.

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts, staring vacantly up at the sky from his seat at the base of a tall oak, that he didn't hear Steelbeak approaching.

"ya slipped away from me, 'dis mornin'"

Bushroot uttered a high-pitched yelp and jumped a full two feet in the air. He spun around and faced Steelbeak, who was dressed in his usual attire. Bushroot's expression was so guilt-filled that Steelbeak found it hard not to laugh.

"uuh, well, I wasn't sure if you'd remember last night, and I didn't want you to be mad at me, so I. er. well. do you remember last night?"

"yeah. I do. I wanna thank youse fer takin' care 'a me."

"y-you're welcome."

"dat's not the only reason I came here, though." Steelbeak approached Bushroot, who's heart was beginning to pound.

"I-it's not?"

"youse forgot some'tin."

Bushroot felt his breath catch in his throat as Steelbeak stopped close enough to him that they could have kissed. He wanted to ask Steelbeak "what?" but the words wouldn't come out of his mouth.

Steelbeak put his hand in his pocket and drew out the familiar syringe, filled with the cloudy liquid. "doctah's orders."

"oh. Of course." Bushroot took the syringe and appeared to be totally immersed in the act of uncapping it and finding the same vein in Steelbeak's arm. He kept his eyes glued to his task, so Steelbeak wouldn't see the tears in them. what an idiot. How could he possibly have expected anything else from Steelbeak? Steelbeak was a suave, smooth-talking, attractive rooster and he was a scrawny, green, plant-duck hybrid with Seasonal Affective Disorder. He finished inserting the liquid and, keeping his eyes down, began to turn away. A strong hand rested on his shoulder while another one gently took his chin and tipped his head up until he met the agent's eyes. "I ain't finished wid you yet, Reginald." Steelbeak whispered, smiling. He then leaned forward and gently pressed his beak to Bushroot's. the plant-duck nearly swooned, and leaned into the kiss, placing his hands on Steelbeak's broad chest. The rooster encircled Bushroot's back with his arms.

The kiss seemed to last forever, and rose both parties to a euphoria neither had ever imagined. It signalled the beginning of something they had both longed for, both dreamed of and both needed.

Steelbeak finally pulled back, "well, what'd ya tink 'a dat?"

"better than Miracle-Gro!" Bushroot sighed.

Steelbeak chuckled and they sat side-by-side beneath the tree. "maybe we should talk ta dat scientist friend 'a yours about aphrodesiacs." Steelbeak snickered.

Bushroot blushed and let out an embarrassed giggle.

Words weren't needed, though both had millions to say. They sat in simple silence, their touch speaking volumes to the other, and looked forward to each progressive moment.

*********

Alright, so, there it was. 'Is that all?' you ask. definitely not, I'm waaaaaaay too fond of these characters to end it there. I may merge this story with the one that comes after Dynasty Ducks. I still have to brainstorm about that one a bit. If anyone has ideas about that they'd like to share, input is greatly appreciated. Stay tuned, steel/bush fans!!