Chapter Text
Grell Sutcliff stood in the middle of a dilapidated living room, soaked and fuming. Water droplets dripped from the hem of her red coat to make an ever-growing puddle at her feet as she stared at her new home with steam rolling out of her ears. What wasn't covered in mold was covered in dust. What wasn't covered in mold or dust was drenched by the steady flow of rain pouring in the holey ceiling.
'Fully furnished and move-in ready' my ass, she seethed internally. The only reason she'd agreed to move across the country and into her late grandmother's house was because she was assured everything was in order. Well, that and her complete and total lack of anywhere else to go. When she got her hands around her cousin's neck, she was going to strangle him.
As if awakened by her thoughts, her hands finally unfroze enough to drop her suitcases to the damp wooden floor with a hollow thump. First things first, she had to do something about this water. Grell carefully navigated the death-trap of a house to where she vaguely remembered the kitchen being in her distant childhood. Pots and pans in hand, she dutifully trod around the ramshackle building to place them under the worst leaks. It wouldn't do anything to help the damage that had already been done, but it would limit the bog she'd have to deal with later. Grell grimaced as she inspected the once-nice rugs and furniture. Everything would have to be thrown out.
As bad as the front half of the house looked, she was surprised to find the back whole and dry. The master bedroom was dusty, but mold- and hole-free. Thank God for small favors, she thought absently, eyeing the dusty canopy bed. There was no way she would be sleeping in that until the sheets were washed.
The master bath seemed to be intact, too. Grell closed her eyes and held her breath as she turned the faucet on. "Halle-freaking-lujah." The water worked. It wasn't hot, but she could at least flush the toilet and wash her hands. She really didn't have the money to stay in a hotel right now. Mentally exhausted, she flopped down on the corner of the bed, coughing when a dust cloud rose and invaded her mouth.
Good grief. This place is nasty! Grell immediately set about stripping the bed. If she wanted to sleep here tonight, she had a lot of work to do.
---
Priority number two was a job. Grell spent the better part of two weeks dividing her time between job hunting and patching up the house. She didn't have the money to actually fix anything, but she was at least able to put plastic tarps over the roof holes and throw out the moldy rugs.
By the end of those two weeks, she had a mostly habitable house and tolerable office job. It obviously wasn't her ideal situation, but it was better than were she was before this mess started. She had given her dream of being an actress the ol' college try and failed miserably, ending up broke, homeless, and desperate enough to jump feet-first into Eric's offer to fly her back across the country if she agreed to take Nana's house as her part of the inheritance. Grell shrugged. It probably wasn't the best deal, but it beat being homeless and alone so she was okay with it.
---
By the end of week four, she remembered just how crazy the old bat was. It had been easy to overlook the occult paraphernalia when moldy dust bunnies were evolving like Pokémon and there seemed to be more water inside the house than out; but once all that mess was cleared away, there really was no ignoring the creepy mystical shit the old lady hoarded. Everything from crystals to animal skulls was carefully stored and displayed somewhere. Grell almost lost her voice shrieking one night when she opened a closet and a giant stuffed crow fell on her head, disintegrating into a puff of feathers and sawdust upon impact. She had scrubbed herself for hours and swore she could still feel lit in her hair days later.
Sour over the crow incident, she boxed up all the stupid hoodoo crap she could find and intended to donate or trash it. She really didn't care so long as it went away. Grell had grand plans for the romantic, elegant way she wanted to decorate her home and creepy hair dolls had no part in it.
---
Week eight had gone swimmingly – "had" being the key word. Grell was proud of herself for getting the house squared away and felt like she was finally fitting in at work. She tried inviting some of her coworkers over and … well ….
"Are you actually going to go?" a young brunet named Davis whispered in the copy room. Grell, who had been about to round the corner, froze, curious if he was talking about her party.
"I don't know," the timid voice of Alan Humphries answered, clearly conflicted.
"I'm not," Davis said firmly with a snort. "That guy's a freak."
"He seems nice. He's just a little … different."
Davis guffawed. "Different!? That asshole's a full-blown lunatic, prancing around in high heels and insisting everyone call him 'ma'am.' The only reason I'd show up is to egg his house."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'd rather watch the game anyway."
Tears stung Grell's eyes as she replayed that memory over and over, mentally flagellating herself. It had been stupid to reach out. She didn't know these people; why would they care about her? She sat alone on her sofa drinking straight out of a wine bottle. She had started out pouring it properly into a wine glass but the practice had been abandoned somewhere around cup four when it became glaringly apparent that no one would be showing up. She pulled the entire tray of hors d'oeuvres into her lap. Fuck it, might as well. Grell, party of one.
---
Six months later, the party incident was all but forgotten. Everyone was polite to her, though they never invited her out. Most seemed to have accepted her odd quirks, many brushing them off with a muttered "Must be a west coast thing" and no real malice. It was better than the open hostility she faced the first few weeks and barely concealed contempt that followed, but she couldn't help feeling left out.
"Can't believe Knox broke up with him," someone on the other side of her cube wall was saying.
"Yeah, but Spears seems to be okay with it somehow. Maybe they weren't serious?"
Doth mine ears deceive me or is my sweet William finally single? Grell thought excitedly. She popped up like a prairie dog to join in the gossip. "Ron dropped Will?"
Alan Humphries stumbled back a step and slapped a hand to his chest. "You! I – I didn't know you were there."
Grell folded her arms on top of the short cubicle wall and rested her chin on them, green eyes glittering excitedly. "Is it true or not, Alan?"
Alan looked to the young woman he'd been chatting with, then back to Grell. "Um, yes? That's what everyone is saying, anyway."
Grell's butt practically wiggled behind the safety of the partition and it took everything she had not to squeal. Gloating over someone else's misfortune definitely wouldn't go over well. Instead, she just breathed out, "Oh? Interesting. Gotta get back to work. Thanks, lamb," and plopped herself back down into her chair to plot.
She painstakingly detailed her Make William Love Me plan over the next week, outlining he best times and ways to approach him as well as conversation starters and first date ideas. She planned for absolutely everything – except outright rejection.
By her calculations, the best time to approach William was two Fridays after the breakup. She dropped by his desk on her way out the door to ask, "Hey, Will, would you like to –"
"No."
"You don't even know what I was going to –"
He didn't look up; his eyes were fastened to a paper on his desk like she wasn't even there. "It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, no."
Brows furrowed, Grell snapped, "I just wanted to buy you a drink."
"I know exactly what you want from me and I'm not interested." Seeing her still standing there out of the corner of his eye, he sighed and finally looked up. Grell's heart skipped a beat as those lovely black-framed emerald eyes bore into her soul. He's looking at me! her inner voice shouted. She opened her mouth to try again but he cut her off. "The whole office knows about your ridiculous crush on me and I don't want any part of it. It's embarrassing. Just go."
His words popped her like a balloon. Grell turned on her heel without another word and marched out. She made it all the way home without speaking a single word or turning her head. She stared straight forward, chin up, eyes held wide open so she wouldn't risk squeezing out a tear. Hours later she found herself sitting on her new red velvet sofa, staring blankly into a dark room and thinking about the past. Her grandmother had done a palm reading on her once as a teenager and declared quite firmly that Grell was destined to live her life forever alone, something the redhead had immediately dismissed as nonsense. There was no way a vibrant, interesting woman such as herself could possibly struggle to find love. Ten years' worth of failed romantic attempts later were making her reconsider her knee-jerk rebuttal.
Grell sighed and ran a hand over her face. She was too exhausted to consider drinking until she passed out, so she skipped the middle man and crawled directly into bed. The oblivion of sleep sounded heavenly.
Electronic beeping sounded the next morning and Grell popped up, ready to get her man! The fire in her eyes faded as she remembered that that was yesterday. And it didn't work. She flopped back down, glaring at the ceiling. Stupid Will. Like I'd want to be with someone so cold-hearted anyway. She clenched her jaw. I'll show him. How or what she planned to 'show' him, she had no idea, but was sure she'd figure something out. How dare he call her affection embarrassing? No one treated Grell Sutcliff like that and got away with it.
Grell stomped around her bedroom and kitchen, dressing and cooking before deciding to take her anger out on the stupid boxes of witchy crap she had impulsively shoved into her attic after fixing the roof. It was time for that trash to go. She climbed the narrow pull-down ladder and carelessly tossed the cardboard boxes down to ground level, not caring if the things inside broke. Fuck donation, she was going to drive these babies straight to the landfill and smile as they got crushed with other trash. Grell grunted as she dragged the last box to the opening, cursing herself for putting all the books into one box. She pushed it down the ladder and smiled with sadistic glee as overloaded cardboard split when it hit the floor – then cursed as she had to drag out a new box and reload it. Oh well, it was worth it.
Grell knelt on the floor to gather up the books and put them into the new box. There were books on everything here: rocks, stars, palmistry, spells, rituals, plants, rainbows, demons ….
Grell paused, hand on the leather-bound demon book. She flipped it open curiously. Her eyes roved over the intricate, hand-illuminated illustrations and detailed descriptions of each supernatural being. It listed their abilities, personalities, and what kinds of wishes they granted. Money, fame, pleasure … love. Eyes large, she crossed her legs and leaned over the book, completely engrossed and oblivious to the fact she was sitting on the hard floor.
After careful examination and a brief pause to get a pen, paper pad, and sticky notes, she had narrowed it down to her top three choices. Grell laughed nervously in the back of her mind at how seriously she was taking this. It's just a silly little book, right? But the pictures were yummy and it was nice to pretend for a minute that she could say the magic words and have all her problems go away. She dragged everything into the kitchen and munched on a sandwich while deliberating.
Bachelor Number One was a Japanese spider demon called Jorougumo, last known alias Claude Faustus. His human form looks exactly like William! He's stoic but does some freaky stuff in the sack, so that's a bonus.
Bachelor Number Two was an Italian crow demon named Malphas, last known alias Sebastian Michaelis. Hmm, he looks like a sexy version of Will and is supposed to be very playful and receptive to new offers.
Bachelor Number Three was a Mesopotamian bat demon known as Lilu, an incubus that can take any shape or name. I could make him look like William with a nine inch penis. WHAT, IT'S A VALID PLAN.
She chewed slowly as she flipped back and forth between her three marked pages, playing out her little game show in her head. Spiders are kind of gross. I'm not fond of birds either, though. But where's the fun in doing all the work in my sexy fantasies? Pursing her lips, she pulled the sticky tab off of Lilu. Right. Cold but freaky Will or hot and playful Will? She pinched the pages between her fingers, holding them up straight up so she could tilt her head back and forth to look between them. She tapped her chin with her free hand before nodding and letting the book fall open to her choice. Hot and playful it is.
She rested her chin in her hand and stared longingly at the illustration, running her finger over Malphas's face. If only you were real, my little chicky-boo, I'd summon you in a heartbeat. You'd be the dark knight to my fair maiden, the Romeo to my Juliette! She sighed happily, picturing how jealous everyone would be when her handsome beau picked her up from work or if they saw her out on the town on the arm of her hunk. Just thinking about it made her squeal and kick her feet in delight.
"How about a drink, handsome?" she offered the picture. "Of course you'd love one. That's what you're supposed to say when a lady invites you out." She poured herself a glass of champagne (because why the hell not) and settled down on the sofa to watch some TV with her 'date.'
"You and I were made for each other," she told the book seriously an hour later, words slurring slightly. She had polished off the bottle and felt better than she had in weeks. William who? "I'd love you and hold you and squeeze you," she mumbled, crushing the book to her chest. "If only you were real …" she finished in a whisper. Her eyes snagged on the forgotten boxes of paraphernalia she'd abandoned in the hall after the book caught her eye. She regarded them appraisingly, glancing thoughtfully between the book and boxes. "Hm, what do you say, Malphas? Should I give it a go just for shits and giggles?" Something about that phrase made her titter, broken up by a dainty hic, which just made her laugh more. "What the hell, I'm just going to throw it all out anyway. Let's have a party first!"
Grell walked in a mostly straight line to the boxes. She was no light-weight drinker after all. She blinked at Malphas's page, reading his summoning ritual and pawing through the boxes until she found what she needed. She didn't have everything – seriously, who does have fresh crow's liver? – but she felt it was good enough.
Arms loaded, she climbed into the attic and flicked on the light. The area above her bedroom was clean and dry; the other end was still warped and mildew-y with some holes she hadn't fixed yet. It felt dark and dangerous – the obvious place to do a pretend demon summoning, if she did say so herself. She toddled over to the edge of the danger zone and dropped her burden, digging through it to find the chalk. She hummed happily to herself, occasionally sneezing at the dust or giggling at a funny thought as she tried to copy the fancy circle out of her book. This was way more fun than she thought it would be!
Grell sat back on her heels and smiled. Perfect! She scattered the other supplies around the circle and declared it good enough. If only she had some candles, it would be Hollywood ready. Her lips curved up at that thought. For tonight, she was an actress!
Grinning madly, Grell stood and held her book aloft like Yorick's skull, other hand pressed dramatically to her chest. She read the incantation theatrically with many dramatic pauses and gestures, picturing herself on stage in front of a large audience. It was all in Latin and she didn't understand a damn word of it, but by God she was going to do a good job. She made it all the way to the very last lines before the gods of acting abandoned her. "Sic veni! Veni Mal – ah," she gasped, turning to the side and fighting it. "Veni Ma-a-a-achoo!" Grell sneezed violently, bending almost in half and turning away from her beautiful circle. She wiped her nose, sniffling before coughing a bit. "Damn dust – hic – ruining a good performance." She lifted the book and sighed. "Right at the end, too. Veni et Servi," she muttered the last two words lacklusterly. Good mood officially ruined. Grell snapped the book closed and ran a hand through her hair.
"Absolutely pathetic," a soft voice stated flatly from behind her.
Grell whipped around, eyes wide. A strange dark-haired teenage boy stood in the middle of her circle, eyeing it with distaste.
"Seriously, is this the best you could do?"
She scowled at that, stepping forward to jab her finger into his bony little chest. "Watch it, kid. This setup is beautiful …" she trailed off as she got a closer look at him. Short. Thin. Blue eye. Eyepatch. Frilly clothes. "Hey, you look nothing like your photo!" she complained, waving the book in his face. Grell wanted a sex god, not a squirt! Her drunken brain was oddly more upset with the fact that the wrong demon showed up than the fact that one showed up at all.
The boy quirked a brow and snatched the book out of her hand, flipping almost all the way to the back. He turned it around to show her a portrait that looked just like him. "I'd say it's a pretty good likeness myself, but to each his own." He thrust the book back into her hand, huffing when she brought it practically to her nose to examine it. "I'm busy. What do you want?"
"I wanted Malphas," she whined.
"You should have done a better job then. Spit out your wish or I'll just eat you now for wasting my time."
Grell blinked at him stupidly. "Well, I want to make someone fall in love with me."
"Not bloody likely," the boy said with a sneer, raking his eyes dismissively over Grell's sloppy work clothes covered in dust and dirt, her blotchy drunken face, and her disheveled, knotted hair.
"I know," she said bitterly. "That's why I need help."
"Pick something doable," he demanded like a spoiled child, folding his arms.
Green eyes examined him critically, gears turning. The little demon wasn't bad looking; she could totally make this work. "You could be my boyfriend," she suggested hopefully.
The demon's mouth fell open indignantly and immediately snapped closed. "Making someone love you it is, then." Damn, this is going to be a long one.