The Gangleader Paction

Chapter 15: ➣ Yes, The Duck Can Cook. Surprise I Know.

He stared at me coldly for a few minutes before sighing and tossed the paper he had in his grasp onto the desk. I grinned knowing he was engaged in a losing battle. There was no way one could win when opposing to a duck.

Running his hands through his hair, a smirk married itself to his face as he leaned forward onto his desk, mimicking the position I was in over his desk, "Tell me something," he smirked, his face dangerously close to mine, "Why do you care so much?"

My smile instantly darted off my face as I quickly averted eye contact with his smug emerald green pupils. Duck crap. crappity, crap, crap, duck crap! 

"Uhhhh," I breathed trying frantically to think of a good excuse. Well quite frankly, I don't really care I just want to waddle the heck out of here. "Because I'm a good, kind hearted duck?" I tried.

Duck-crap that was.

"Bullshit," He shot back almost as soon as the words spat out of my mouth. Great, there goes my chance of ever leaving the hell hole known as this office. "You're real motive is just to find an excuse to leave my sight,"

Bingo. "Well, I-I...I well-," I stammered trying to cover up the truth as usual.

Abandon all hope Sky. It's over.

"But..." He continued, sparking my interest, "I'll take a break if you do something for me,"

I cocked my head, my eyes sparkling with interest. If he takes a break that means I can leave this room and at least watch some T.V to relieve my boredom. "What do I gotta do?" I questioned eagerly. This is going to be as easy as eating cake.

"Make me something to eat,"

Huh?

"What?" I spat, almost losing my balance and falling off the table.

"You heard me," he smirked triumphantly, "Make me something to eat, out of scratch,"

WHAT?! Make. Him. Something. To. Eat?!

"B-But I can't cook," Not even to save my own life, much less I'd be poisoning someone else too.

"Oh well, then I guess I won't be able to take a break and you'll stay here, even if it takes all night," He chuckled to himself evilly.

Oh, wait! Maybe I could poison him! Ha-ha! Then I can make a run for it...and ultimately get shot in the process. Goddammit.

C'mon Sky, think of something to make him! Something edible and won't, fortunately, kill him. Anything at all.

Wait... I can make chicken soup!

I know, weird dish to be the only one I had some skill in putting together.

But it was something my mom always made me when I was funneled in bed with a fever and I absolutely adored it.

It was a simple and delicious recipe that she put so much love into, and it was miraculously the only thing I can cook without resulting the kitchen in flames. Yes, the duck can cook. Surprise I know.

But Xavier isn't exactly sick to be fed chicken soup...well physically that is. Clearly, he's sick in the mind when it comes to his mental health.

"Wait!" I piped up, finalizing my decision, as I clenched my fist in determination, "I can make you something,"

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely surprised, "I'd prefer if you didn't poison me though Sky,"

Ugh, kill yourself, Xavier. That was my initial plan, you prick!

"It's Skyler," I pointed out, "And secondly, I can cook this particular food without landing you in the hospital," I told him pridefully.

"Alright, let's see it then," He crossed his arms over his chest pompously as if challenging me.