At Your Service

Chapter 36- Drag

"So..." Ansel sat up in the head seat at the dining room table, across from a human named Frederick Glasson, whom the master Vandiver was currently attempting to make business with. Carlisle was standing by the dining room doors, ready to serve his master at a moment's notice. "Allow me to confirm that we are on the same page." Frederick Glasson couldn't sense Ansel's frustration like Carlisle could and had no idea what was about to come his way; he sat forward in anticipation. "You wish for me to make a love potion."

Mr. Glasson smiled wide. "Exactly."

"You wish for me... to make a love potion," Ansel repeated, allowing some of his annoyance to leak into his voice, earning a smirk from the demon in the corner of the room, "despite our strict rule against meddling with the free will of others?"

Finally, Mr. Glasson's expression faded. "I-I... when did that become a rule, Mr. Vandiver?" he stammered, seeming genuinely shocked, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Generations ago," Ansel responded bluntly. Carlisle cleared his throat to keep himself from chuckling. "We never allow customers to use our products with the intention of toying with free will. It always ends badly for the customer, and they try to come back to us and sue."

"But, Mr. Vandiver, you don't understand!" the human suddenly cried out. Ansel glared at the human. "She is cheating on me!"

Ansel let out an exasperated sigh before asking dully, "Is this your wife?"

Frederick nodded. "She's cheating on me. I can't lose her! We have kids!"

The witch rolled their eyes. "You don't seem to fully understand your own plan," they grumbled. "You would give your wife a potion that would change who she is. You would risk turning your wife into someone else and you would risk her finding out, especially since there's the man she's cheating on you with to keep in the picture. Obviously, if she's cheating on you, this isn't a problem with her, rather a problem with your marriage, so she doesn't need to be drugged to fix the problem." They folded their hands together on the table and leaned forward. "I suggest you handle the problem the right way: confront her, talk it out, and find a solution, whether it's reconciliation or divorce. Your kids will be all right."

Carlisle felt a swell of pride, but Frederick only stared, dumbfounded. Ansel stared right back, waiting for the flabbergasted human to respond. "How..." He slowly stood up. "How dare you make presumptions about what I'm going through!"

Ansel nodded. "I am only speaking based on what you've told me, which does leave room for presumptions, one of which appears to be that you are half of the problem, perhaps more than half if you're coming to a witch instead of a counsellor for help."

"You're supposed to help, not make conditions and ask questions! You give the product, I give the money. That's the end of the transaction!"

Ansel now stood, also very slowly. "You'd better save that money for a proper attorney because you won't be getting a single drop of potion from me. With power comes responsibility, and I choose whether or not you are responsible enough to be worthy of my power. Clearly, you are not, so I have every right to deny you my service."

Frederick clenched his jaw and started walking towards the doors. "I will just find another bloody witch who will help me, because there are witches out there who will serve me."

"May Satan then have mercy on your soul," Ansel growled as they grabbed their crutches and walked over to the man, "because God certainly won't, and neither will the witches who you demand service from, because we are not meant to serve anyone. We help humans because we care, not because we are obligated to." Their voice suddenly dropped to a whisper as they stepped even closer to the man. "You had better be careful; otherwise, you will lose much more than your wife."

The human's eyebrows shot up. He suddenly slapped the witch, knocking them over.

The butler was behind Frederick so fast that the man barely had time to massage his stinging hand before Carlisle grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, spun the human around to face him, and punched him so he instantly broke his nose, which immediately spurted out blood that covered Carlisle's white silk glove. He punched him in the gut, making the human fall to his knees in pain. Calmly, the demon grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and jacket before beginning to drag him out of the room. "Oh, dear, now look what you've done: blood on the velvet." He clicked his tongue with disapproval as he opened the door. "But, at least it's red, too; otherwise, I would have had to break your kneecaps."

Frederick Glasson was removed promptly from the Vandiver mansion.

When Carlisle returned, his glove was pristinely clean, just like the one it was paired with. Ansel was still on the floor, hugging their abdomen. "Are you all right?" Carlisle asked quietly as he carefully helped his master to their feet.

Ansel nodded, taking deep breaths. "That was just... a very jarring fall."

Carlisle helped the witch to their seat at the table, just so they could sit somewhere not on the floor until Ansel left the room. "It wouldn't upset your incision, as I closed it, but your insides are still only on the second full day of recovery. You still need to take it easy."

The witch growled. "Humans are the worst."

The demon smirked. "Agreed."

"I don't know why my parents..." They stopped themselves, knowing why their parents help humans: they were good people and excellent witches, and they wanted to spend their lives doing good for humans, who so direly needed the help of magical beings. "I don't know why my parents ever kept their temper with people like that."

Carlisle grinned. "I got the impression that they were always too nice. You are just authentic."

Ansel sighed, feeling their shoulders relax. "Thank you."

The demon smiled and said, "You're welcome," before kissing his master's forehead. "How about a nice hotpad, a good cup of tea, and today's crossword puzzle?"

The witch blinked. "Heaven? Yes, please."

The butler chuckled as he grabbed Ansel's wheelchair from the corner and helped them into it. "You make my job so easy."

"You're a demon. You make everything look effortless."

"I never fail," he took great care to remind them as he started pushing them out of the dining room.

"Are there any jobs that you find challenging?"

"Staying professional around you," Carlisle admitted without a hint of humour or suggestion in his tone. "You are the first master I have ever had who is also my worst distraction from performing my duties. But, at the same time, indulging in the distraction means I am there... still performing my duties. It is quite a transitive situation."

Ansel chuckled. "Sounds like a real struggle."

"The struggle is not having my hands or mouth on you at every opportunity I get."

The witch started blushing. "That sucks."

The demon stopped and leaned over Ansel's shoulder. "You're mocking me."

They turned their head to stare right into the demon's eyes. "And?" They leaned forward and tilted their head until their lips touched his, and the demon was quick to kiss back, but the kiss was soft and brief, ending before Carlisle resumed taking Ansel towards their bedroom.

The demon wore a smirk the witch couldn't see. "And, I'll get you back for it... sometime soon," he purred, his tone dark and mischievous. He already had a plan boiling in his head.