[Diligence 3] - Charlie - A Regular Check-Up

Another day, another client. 

Shame it has to be this one.

Charlie knew Dove wasn’t going to be accompanying him today, but he had to hold himself back from audibly groaning when he saw Primrose waiting for him at the garden entrance. The scowl on Primrose’s face tells him that the feeling is mutual.

“Chardonnay.” Primrose’s tone is cold and curt. He regards Charlie with a look of disgrace, his gaze flicking from Charlie’s muddied shoes (and the footprints they left behind) to his ragged jacket. He sticks out like a sore thumb against the pristine and pastel-toned building.

“Primrose.” Charlie mimics the cherubun’s tone, partially in mocking and partially to indicate his own distaste. He makes a rather rude face at Primrose, earning him a scoff and an eye roll in return.

“Let’s get this over with. Follow me.” Primrose gives Charlie a wide berth, exiting the reception building and making his way towards the gardens. Charlie flips him off from behind before following him, making sure to get as much mud on the floor as possible. For no other reason than spite.

- - -

Primrose stops in front of the same garden bed Charlie had attended to a few weeks ago. He glances at the bun behind him, then back at the garden.

“Sloppy. These aren’t in an even row.” Primrose snorts. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Oh can it, featherbrain,” Charlie snaps back at him. “Just tell me what I’m supposed to be doin’ right now and I’ll get off your prissy little tail as soon as I can.” Primrose’s scowl deepens.

“Fine. The less time I must spend with you, the better.” Primrose steps over to a gilded trough filled with crystal clear water. He retrieves an equally fancy watering can from a nearby shelf and dunks it into the water, waiting for it to fill up. Once satisfied, he carries the can back to Charlie and holds it out, keeping an entire arm’s distance between them.

“Here. Don’t break this, or it’ll be coming out of your compensation. You must only use the water from that trough”

“Why, is it maaagic or somethin’?” Charlie’s tone is clearly mocking. He wiggles his fingers in the air for emphasis. “Or are your lil’ flowers just that damn delicate?”

“They are not delicate. They simply cannot be tainted by the filthy water of that pit you call home.” Primrose shakes the watering can slightly. “I’m going to graciously assume you’re not a complete moron and have a basic understanding of the water cycle. This water originates from our clouds. Therefore, it is infinitely purer than anything your kind could offer us, and will keep our ambrosia pure.”

“Ooooooh, faaaaaaaancy.” Charlie cackles, snatching the watering can from Primrose. A few stray drops fly out and splash onto Primrose’s shoes, much to the cherubun’s chagrin. “Fine, I’ll use your precious pure cloud piss to water His Majesty’s magic flowers. Done and done and done and done!” 

Charlie tosses his ponytail over his shoulder, making a big show of preparing himself to handle the purified dew. He repeatedly adjusts his gloves and holds the watering can like a fancy teapot, pouring water onto the flowers like a butler pouring tea. He can see Primrose getting progressively more annoyed at each of his little adjustments and dramatics, and it only makes him increase his theatrics. He can’t stop a smug grin from spreading across his face. If Primrose is gonna hire him only to insult him, Charlie’s gonna make sure this experience is as unpleasant as possible for him.

Once the first bed has been watered and the can is empty, Charlie starts to move towards the trough, before stopping mid step. With a shit-eating grin, he slowly turns to Primrose and holds out the watering can.

“Oh Primmyyyyy~ Can you refill this for meeee? I wouldn’t dare touch your pure precious water with my filthy little paws. I dont want to taint the whole batch with my sinful presence and ruin your flowerssssss.”

Primrose’s face is bright red. Charlie can almost see the steam pouring from his ears. Primrose opens his mouth, but seemingly reconsiders and closes his mouth. He takes a deep breath and presses his hands together, closing his eyes in a silent prayer. After a few seconds, he opens his eyes again and smiles sourly at Charlie.

“Sure. Fine. Whatever. I can refill that for you.” He snatches the watering can out of Charlie’s hands, holding it in front of him like it’s something disgusting. Charlie’s grin only grows wider. That was the exact reaction he wanted. He watches Primrose dunk the watering can in the trough once again before returning to where Charlie is waiting and thrusting the watering can back into his hands.

“Get back to work, you-” Primrose cuts himself off, inhaling sharply. “Just- get back to work.” He folds his arms across his chest. If looks could kill, Charlie would be a dead man, but at least he’d die laughing.

As much fun as it’s been to push Primrose’s buttons, Charlie has a job to do. He returns to watering the plants, still occasionally doing something with the intent to bother Primrose. Sometimes he “accidentally” pours water on his shoes, other times he kicks dirt in his general direction. One time he even managed to smear a bit of mud on Primrose’s pant leg, something Primrose didn’t seem to notice (a fact which only made Charlie even more entertained). Whenever the watering can is empty, he holds it out to Primrose with an exaggerated pleading expression, reveling in Primrose’s annoyed groans and barely-concealed anger.

Unfortunately, the fun eventually had to come to an end, and Charlie finished watering the last garden plot. He whirled around to face Primrose, with an overly-exaggerated bow.

“Et voilà!” Charlie smirks. “Your special magical little flowers have all been watered.” He deposits the watering can back into Primrose’s hands. “Pleasure working with you, Primmy. See you next time~” Charlie waltzes out of the greenhouse, satisfied with both his hijinks and the state of the plants. 

Primrose stands in the greenhouse for another minute, taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm down. He finally drops his posture with a deep sign. 

“Thank god that’s over…” He slowly walks to the trough, returning the watering can to its shelf. Only then does he notice the rather large mud stain on his freshly dry-cleaned pants. All he can do is stare, his face slowly flushing a dark red once again. He lets out a frustrated yell - a few less than holy words mixed in.

Next time, he’s making sure Dove is free to supervise that damnable gardener.