Cleaning Day

Squaring her shoulders, Sam sized up the enemy.

Said enemy happened to be a giant dark stain on the floor in front of her. Sam had no idea where it came from, but that didn't matter. She was going to defeat it all the same.

And she didn't have to do it alone. After dunking the mop in the bucket, she handed it to Jin, who wrung out the excess water. They made a perfect team, if Sam said so herself. Jin took care of the part she hated the most, while she was actually tall enough to use the mop.

"Okay!" Mop wrung, Jin hopped around waving wet, soapy hands. "Let's go, Sam!"

"You got it!" Grinning, Sam braced the mop against her shoulder. Back home she'd avoided chores like the plague, but here she wouldn't dream of slacking off. Kress would have her hide, and besides, it wasn't so boring with everybody to help.

Maybe she couldn't come up with fancy strategies for defeating the Infernal Legion, but that didn't mean she had nothing to contribute. Couldn't get any fighting done if the craft wasn't in top condition, after all.

So Sam eagerly charged forward, sweeping the mop across the stain. Back and forth she went, scrubbing with all her might while Jin cheered her on.

It didn't take long before the stain started disappearing. A few more charges, and the floor sparkled like brand new. Nevy's handmade soap sure worked miracles.

Panting, Sam wiped the sweat from her forehead. Then she turned to Jin with a big smile. "That's that! Now let's hurry it up if we wanna beat Ryllis!"

"Yep! We can't lose!" Jin bounced up and down.

But before they could get on their way, heavy footsteps thudded from down the corridor. Sam stumbled in surprise, and only Jin's quick reflexes saved the bucket from tipping over.

The source of the footsteps soon revealed itself – Kress, her face full of thunder. And she wasn't alone. Sam blinked at the sight of a pink-haired demon dangling by the collar from her hand, squirming like a disobedient kitten.

"Put me down, you brute – ack!" Kress opened her hand, and Mirage landed on his face with a string of curses.

"What the hell was that for?" he yelled.

Kress shrugged. "Didn't you tell me to put you down?"

"I didn't mean it like that! Hey!" as Kress shoved a feather duster into his hands.

"Sorry, but do you two mind watching him?" Kress said to the goggle-eyed Sam and Jin. "Make sure he doesn't slack or try to run off. Already caught him hiding in the hold."

She shook her head in disgust before shoving Mirage forward. He whirled toward her indignantly.

"Why must I endure this drudgery? I'm not a maid!"

"Damn right you aren't. You're a member of this crew, which as I recall, is exactly what you wanted. Well, on this here craft, everybody's got their part to play. So buck up and do yours, buddy."

With that, Kress thumped Mirage on the shoulder hard enough to buckle his knees. While he sputtered indignantly, Kress nodded at Sam and Jin. "Sorry 'bout this. You guys mind?"

Sam and Jin exchanged glances, both of them grinning ear-to-ear. Saluting, Sam chirped, "Not at all, chief!"

"Thanks, guys." And just as quickly as she'd appeared, Kress stomped off again.

Mirage, meanwhile, was still standing there holding the feather duster like he was afraid it might explode. When he lifted his head and his golden eyes met Sam's, an icy jolt ran down her spine.

And it sent memories swirling through her head. An alley on a cloudy day, a voice whispering seductive words. 'Come to me, and be enthralled.'

Sam gave her head a quick shake to clear it. No way was she gonna get lost in memory lane, not when Kress had given her a job to do.

And she didn't have anything to be afraid of. She'd gotten a lot stronger since then, and Mirage wasn't her enemy anymore.

Her mind made up, she sauntered up to him. "Hey, don't just stand there. This craft's not gonna clean itself."

"A pity, isn't it?" Mirage drawled. "Well, I wish you the best of luck with your endeavors."

He started striding down the corridor, only for Jin to jump in front of him in a blur of silver fur. "Out of my way, brat."

Instead, Jin flat-out grabbed him by the leg. Sam's jaw dropped, and Mirage seemed just as flabbergasted, judging by how he went stiff like a scarecrow.

"Come on, mister!" Jin chirped. "If you don't like cleaning, let's do it together. It's more fun that way!"

"It's not a question of like or dislike," Mirage protested, but rather halfheartedly.

"Huh, I didn't think you were the lazy type." Sam decided to make her move. "You always put so much work into your photoshoots, after all. That one where you wore those wings and climbed on top of that church steeple, you even said it yourself, 'the greatest rewards for the greatest efforts.'"

To cap it off, she winked. Mirage stared at slack-jawed at her, turning red all the way from the base of his neck to the pointed tips of his ears.

"Don't underestimate a Michel Rose fan!" Sam declared. "Are you really gonna ruin my dreams?"

"Er, ah, well," Mirage stammered, his blush darkening to the exact shade as his horns. "Haven't I already ruined your dreams more than enough?"

"Then consider this your chance for redemption! Unless you wanna keep on disappointing your fans?"

Sam stuck her finger in his face. He stared back at her, mouth still part-open. Like this, Sam couldn't see a trace of the fearsome Infernal Legion captain in him – but hadn't that been just as much a lie as Michel Rose?

Then Mirage breathed in deeply and straightened his shoulders. Just like that, his usual poise returned. Though he was standing in the dingy corridor with a feather duster in his hands, he held himself like he was posing for a photo shoot.

"Why, of course," he said, sweeping into a low bow. "Perish the thought of disappointing you, my lady. Shall we?"

"Yay!" Jin hopped up and down, clapping, while Sam grinned so wide she almost thought her face might tear in half. Looked like Mirage wouldn't be too hard to handle after all.

~*~

It was sunset by the time Mirage stumbled onto the deck. Not a single muscle in his body didn't ache, and he felt like he'd never be able to wash the dust off his skin.

Oh, that girl had proven quite the slave driver. Shortly after getting started, he'd realized what a foolish mistake he had made letting her talk him into this, but every attempt to sneak away using his invisibility was quickly thwarted. No thanks to the fox brat's sharp nose, which seemed capable of detecting the very moment he started gathering his Levia.

So before he could even think of turning invisible, the girl would tug on his ear or stomp on his foot, or the brat would jump on his leg, and all his dreams of escape would swirl into dust. Just like the clouds that exploded in his face in his first attempts to use the duster.

The girl had busted her gut laughing at him, but how was he supposed to know how to use this thing? Prior to today, Mirage had never performed a chore in his life. As an Infernal Legion captain, his underlings took care of such things, and even as the Zieglers' slave, his duties hardly involved the domestic realm.

Well, after a while he'd started to get the hang of it. By the end, he'd made a big show of pointing out his spotless handiwork to the girl and brat.

Now he'd come to the deck to find Victor, whose Levia he had sensed here. He found the wizard quickly enough, his eyes seeking that broad-shouldered silhouette by instinct.

Only for a sheet to unfurl in front of the silhouette, hiding it from view. Mirage watched, a little bemused, as Victor shook out a sheet before hanging it on one of the lines stretching across the deck, all of them laden with laundry.

Victor wasn't alone; Lodovico was busy airing out sheets beside him. They worked in what seemed like companionable silence, both going about their work with a swift efficiency that made it look easier than it actually was.

So this was what Victor had been doing all day. It suited him, considering he'd taken care of all the chores back on Earth.

Some part of Mirage almost wanted to watch Victor forever, but he banished the silly impulse. Instead, he strode to the human as he reached up to pin another sheet in place.

"Good evening, Mirage," Victor said, though he didn't face him.

For some reason, heat rose in Mirage's face. Clearing his throat, he said, "Er...do you need any help?"

That...had not been what he'd intended to say. But before he could take it back, Victor whirled toward him, his eye wide in genuine surprise.

Now if that wasn't a rare expression. It filled Mirage's chest with a strange warmth, and he decided he'd indeed made the right call.

Smirking at Victor, he reached into the basket of damp laundry. Victor blinked a few more times before jerking his head in a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. But of course Mirage noticed, and it made him smirk even wider.