Characters: Isley and Rigald, with mentions of Priscilla
Warnings: I guess very vague spoilers if you don't know who the characters are.
Summary: Isley has found a new "friend" for Rigald, and it's doing nobody any good at all.
Disclaimer: If owned them, I'd be smarter and the Claymores would have hips.
A/N: First time writing Claymore fic.
Isley looked up. His subordinate Rigald had just strode into the room, looking vaguely annoyed as always.
“You said you wanted to see me,” he stated, giving Isley a look that said, ‘And this had better not be stupid, or sir, I’ll knock that empty blond head of yours halfway across the room.’ For his part however, Isley only smiled; he used to dealing with all sorts of difficult awakened beings, and Rigald was one of the fun ones.
“Rigald, I’ve been thinking...”
“...And I want you to know that I came to a conclusion,” he continued as if he had not been interrupted. “I asked Priscilla, and she thinks it’s a good conclusion too.”
Rigald kindly refrained from saying what he thought of Priscilla, which was probably for the best since he had to admit that it scared even him.
“So, I thought that I ought to give you a... an assistant, I suppose, somebody who would be under your direct orders at every moment of every day.”
“Thank you,” Rigald replied, nodding.
“So I said to myself, ‘What sort of person would Rigald like?’ And of course, I realized that the best answer would have to be, ‘Someone like him.’ So, I’m going to put you in charge of another one very much like yourself.”
With that, he stood up and walked to the other side of the room, where he opened a cabinet and pulled out a large cardboard box. He set the box on the desk in front of the other awakened being, who now had a puzzled expression on his face.
Rigald glared at the box. Suddenly, things were no longer looking very hopeful at all. If whatever was in that box was supposed to be his assistant, than it must be something very small. ...Something like a child. Oh, eeugh. If that thing had reproduced... He didn’t care what Isley thought; if the thing in that box was Priscilla’s spawn, he was going to just step on it here and now, whatever the consequences.
“Go on, open it,” Isley prodded happily. Rigald glared at him now, then back at the box. Finally, he wrenched the lid off, and got up the nerve to look inside.
“It’s... it’s...” he stammered.
“Yes?” Isley looked extremely pleased with himself.
“But sir, it’s... a kitty?”
A small black cat sat inside the box, looking up at them curiously and mewing. It had a large pink satin bow tied around its neck.
“His name is Mr. Buttons; I hope you take care of him well.”
“I... but, I...” Rigald was standing perfectly still, but his face was slowly turning redder by the second. “I am not a kitty!”
With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving Mr. Buttons to bat at Isley’s hair. A voice called after him, “But Rigald, look at this, I even bought some catnip. You two can share it!”
“I quit! This means war! Do you hear me?!”
“Mmmmrrrrrrrww,” Mr. Buttons chimed in, as he leapt from the box and down on to the floor, where he rubbed his head against one of the great Abyssal One of the North’s legs, then began to chew on his foot.