"Ana," Christan hissed. "Ana, for fucks sake, will you look at what you've done?!"
His scowl marred his otherwise runway features as his newly minted bride had the audacity to bite her lip, the melody of her giggle spilling out on either side of her pearly white teeth. Glaring at her, Christian felt his palms twitch before he turned to stare hopelessly around him. For the very first time in his life, he was completely and utterly fucked. He had no clue what to do, he didn't even have a clue's clue. Horror bubbled inside him as one of them made contact before scooting down the hall so fast that even the best pest control operative wouldn't have had a chance to snap its scrawny little neck. Recoiling, he looked down at his five-thousand-dollar pants and was surprised to see no mark of the creature splattered across the rare fabric.
"Ana," he said slowly, in his most menacing tone. "You have thirty minutes to fix this."
He turned to face her with a raised brow.
"Thirty minutes," he repeated. "I'm serious. This is not a laughing matter."
Laughing loudly at the non-laughing matter, Ana rolled her eyes and lowering her voice to match her husband's, moved closer to him so that their lips were mere millimetres apart.
"Or what, Mr Grey? You'll spank me?"
Christian's eyes bore straight through hers and into her soul.
"Yes, Mrs Grey," he murmured softly, his sweet breath washing over her face. "I will spank you… but that's what you want, isn't it? So, lets change it up, shall we? If you fail to get this infestation cleared within thirty minutes… I willspank you… but I will also keep CJ all to myself for a week. Minimum. Can you imagine how thirsty you'll be in seven days? You remember the last time I kept him to myself for just two days? How… ahh… parched you were?"
Blue eyes clouded over but Ana didn't miss a beat.
"That was before we were married, Mr Grey. I think you will find that I now have a legal right to CJ. Joint custody, if you will…"
Christian smirked.
"Didn't you read the prenup? CJ's all mine."
"Didn't you read the revised prenup? If I don't have access to CJ on request, I am free to get a drink at any other of the high-end fountains in Seattle. You should think about that before holding him hostage."
Christan growled, closing the miniscule gap between them and murmuring into her ear.
"Too far, Mrs. Grey. My palms are twitching and my office is soundproof. Remember that."
She smirked the smirk that drove him nuts, sending his pulse from healthy to threaded.
"You should really get those palms of yours looked at. They've been twitching since I met you and really, at your age, that could be an underlying health condition that you can't afford to leave unchecked."
He shook his head, rustling the stark white collar of his pristine shirt, in disbelief.
"Not even married life can tame that smart mouth, Mrs. Grey. You are… incorrigible."
"I'll take as a compliment."
His eyes narrowed.
"You shouldn't. As a matter of fact, I-"
His face suddenly drained of all colour as he felt another one make contact. Stiffening, he slowly directed his gaze downwards and felt his eyes bulge in horror at the sight they met. To the backdrop of Ana's spluttering laughter which he was sure was permeated with intermittent professions of cuteness, he felt his heartrate canter into danger territory. It had a vicelike grip and octopus like tentacles. It was making the strangest sound as it attempted to clamber up his leg with wanton disregard and disrespect of imported cashmere.
"Ana!" Christian eventually managed to gasp. "Help! Get it off! It's… get it off!"
His wife, the woman who not three months ago had promised to stand by his side in times of great peril, merely buckled over in laughter and left him completely defenceless in the midst of his worst nightmare. He could do nothing but watch in horror as it deftly continued its assent, using his seven-hundred-dollar belt as a foothold to access his rigid torso. Closing his eyes, Christian willed himself to wake up from what was surely a very vivid nightmare.
This couldn't be happening.
This simply could not be happening.
He knew it had reached his eye level. He could feel it staring at his tightly shut eyelids, no doubt wondering what it could blind him with. With Ana's evil cackling still ringing in his ears, he forced himself to remember who the hell he was. He was Christian fucking Grey and these were his offices, his fiefdom. If his own wife was going to forsake him, he would have no choice but to defend what was his by himself. Peeling open his eyes slowly, he braced himself for the horror that lay beyond.
The horror blinked at him.
The horror had wide green eyes and extremely small teeth. It appeared to be in or around the age of two and a half to three years old. Its weaponry consisted of one saliva riddled tambourine and one biohazardous bear. These weapons were slung around his neck as the creature clutched at him in a chokehold with slight koala-like overtones. He and the creature stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime before the invader laid out its demands.
"Play!"
Christian swallowed. Hard.
"I beg your pardon?"
Green eyes blinked again.
"Play! I said play!"
Grey eyes pleaded for mercy.
"No, thank you. I… don't do things like that. Please… please disembark. Immediately. I will call security if you do not comply and-"
He gasped as he was summarily beat over the head with the pink tambourine.
"Play!"
"Do you realise who you are assaulting? I am the CEO of this company and you and your little criminal allies roaming through my halls are trespassing. I don't care that my wife invited your poorly funded day-care to spend the day here in a not so clever attempt to extort funding from me. You will leave immediately and if not I will press charges and-"
"I'm hungry!"
Christian stared with his mouth agape. Feeling the terrorist drop slightly, he winced as he instinctively reached out to hold the source of his pain tightly in his arms.
"There should be food outside this building somewhere. Go find it."
Green eyes widened before a toothy smile was offered.
"I'm… Abby!"
"Good for you," Christian mumbled in desperation, turning to seek some semblance of comfort from his so-called wife who, to his horror, was merely looking at he and Abby the Anarchist with a completely incomprehensible expression on her face. To his absolute horror, not only was she staring with the… weird expression, so too was Andrea who had come out of nowhere and several others of his highest-ranking management team.
Abby, sensing weakness, took her opportunity and weaponised her tambourine.
"I said… hungry!"
Before Christian could do what he considered any rational human being would do and call the police, Abby suddenly melted in his arms and rested her head under his chin, clutching his shirt in her tiny little fist. Nuzzling against his chest, her green eyes began to droop and she looked up at him hopefully.
"Hungry?"
Looking down at what he suddenly realised was a positively angelic looking child… Christian began to feel… emotions. He couldn't quite put a name on these emotions but he knew they were… mushy. Like overly defrosted peas. Without realising what in the good hell he was doing, he felt his hand card through the little girls golden curls before bouncing her gently in his arms.
"Lets get you something to eat then, kiddo," he said softly, looking up to the audible squeaks of his wife and management team. He realised what the collective look was with a small stab of horror.
Broodiness.
Clearing his throat loudly, he eyed Ana first.
"You," he said firmly "are divorced."
His eyes roved over to Andrea and his other top rankers.
"And you four," he said, equally firmly, "are fired."
He looked down at the borderline slumbering Abby in his arms.
"And you," he said gently, "are just adorable, huh? Let's get you something to eat and then back to your teacher."
He blinked as the tambourine knocked out another brain cell.
"Play!"
Stalking off down the corridor to the adoring eyes of his former wife and former employees, he chuckled.
"Ok, ok. Food then play. You're the boss."
…
I needed a random, light-hearted drabble to get back into the FSOG frame of mind before going back to my WIPs which will be updated soon.
Inks x
…..
