Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ some kind of bliss ❯ Every Day Is All There Is ( Chapter 2 )

See Chapter One for warnings, disclaimers and all that other palaver. Thanks again to Mouse, and everybody who's given encouraging reviews and feedback.

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"No!"

"But…"

"Just no! For the last time, Leon Orcot, I am not doing your goddamn paperwork again!"

Leon sighed.

He wasn't in the mood. Just wasn't. Not, of course, that he ever really was. He knew that he'd already exhausted Jill's patience several times over - and that he probably deserved the withering look she was currently sending in his direction more than he cared to think about - but sitting at a desk in front of this piece-of-shit computer was the last place he wanted to be right now. For Christ's sake, he was a cop. He ought to be out catching criminals, not sitting on his backside in an office like some sort of pen-pushing Microserf.

He glowered at the monitor, but the report stubbornly refused to write itself.

No, he really wasn't in the mood.

Come to think of it, his mood sucked - even more than it normally did, that was. Things were just getting to him lately, and he didn't know why. After all, Leon wasn't exactly the type to analyse his feelings. But then he wasn't usually the type whose feelings needed analysing. He got curious, but that kind of figured, and a lot of the time he got angry, but then he shouted or hit things or just sulked for a bit and that made him feel better, and the rest of the time he just got on with his life and didn't give it too much thought. He didn't suffer from depression or introspection or existential angst or whatever the hell it was that was making him feel weird and dislocated and kind of empty, and like there was something indefinable but very, very necessary missing from his shoebox apartment and the routine of work-home-dinner-TV-beer-sleep that he'd been following ever since he became a cop.

Though if he was being honest, these days it was more often than not work-pet shop-home-dinner -sleep. A couple of times he'd even dozed off sitting on the couch, waking up to find his tea cold and D just looking at him patiently with an expression that was half mirth, half something he couldn't quite fathom. When he saw that Leon was awake he'd get up, clear away the tea things and send him off home with an admonishment to sleep properly and make sure he didn't overwork himself, but he'd be wearing that amused, infuriating little smile that always meant he wasn't really all that concerned. That was okay, though. It meant Leon didn't have to feel guilty about wanting to slap him one for a start.

He kind of knew that wasn't fair. It was his own embarrassment more than anything, embarrassment being something he found himself suffering pretty chronically around the Count. And D's calm demeanour, the way he could keep his expression perfectly on that narrow line between disdain and amusement while Leon blustered and stammered and turned seven shades of beetroot, irritated the hell out of him. That was it.

Leon frowned.

Actually, maybe that was it. Worrying about stuff like this - if he even knew what the hell it was he was worrying about - wasn't him. He just didn't do it. Never had. Until he'd met the Count, that was. Half of what he found himself thinking these days sounded like D's poncy, philosophical - hippie bullshit.

Well, that would be just great. As if stressing him out all day at work wasn't enough, now the guy was fucking with his head too. He'd probably have a nice little chuckle if he knew just how much, too, Leon reflected morosely. He could imagine it - the eyes widened in innocence, the tone of soft, feigned surprise, the exact degree of smirk. Goodness, Detective, what are you getting so upset about…?

"Leon!"

He blinked.

"Leon! Get your head out of the clouds - or your ass, whichever one it is this week - and stop daydreaming!"

"Wha.. Oh, uh, sorry Jill. What's up?"

She jerked her head up at the clock. "Well, fascinating as that screensaver may be, your shift's over. You can get off home and stop chewing my ear off about how terrible it is being made to do..." she widened her eyes in mock-horror, "work!" Then her lips curved in a little smirk. "Or you can drop by the pet shop and chew D's ear off. Or just nibble, I'm sure he wouldn't mind…"

"Cut it out!"

Leon grabbed his jacket, sent Jill a look that could have soured Ribena, and stomped out the door.

He was still scowling by the time he'd gotten down the street. Sure, Jill could be a great friend, but she could be a royal pain in the ass at times as well. He sure as hell didn't need any teasing about D right now. And anyway, he wasn't going to go by the pet shop after work today. He didn't fancy being reminded how much D could piss him off - because that was what he was, he decided: pissed off - and besides, he didn't have any reason to, right? Or any sweets, for that matter, and he could just imagine the frosty reception he'd get if he turned up there empty-handed. But that was academic, because he was not, was not, was not…

Oh.

Leon looked up at the familiar, intricately-carved doorway and gave a sigh. His footsteps seemed to bring him here automatically these days. It was weird, though, now he thought about it. Even when he didn't have a case, he always kind of felt like he was asking D for answers.

He shook his head. Jesus fuck, that really did sound like something His Highness would come out with. This wasn't even funny any more.

Still, he was here now. D, being D, would probably find out in no time if he'd been in Chinatown and not to the shop, and Leon dreaded to think what a hissy-fit he'd throw then. He might as well drop in. Just for a minute.