“Hey, hey!” She frowned at me, motioning to my wings and claws tangling her sheets. “I told you you’re not allowed on the furniture. Get down. You have your own bed and very nice perch.”
I huffed at her, smoke curling around my face, but decided to listen. It wasn’t like her bed was that interesting anyway.
My human was never one to understand that we dragons owned all the ‘furniture’ they so highly decorated, but it was of little matter. I liked this human. It’s why I decided to live with her all those years ago, and pretended to listen to her...but only when it suited me.
Grabbing her keys, she waved at me from the door as I slipped up my window perch, reciting her daily schedule to me as if I couldn’t remember. She left without me, and I watched with a sulking face at the window until she disappeared down the street.
It’s not that I couldn’t leave the house, mind you. I just enjoyed watching her struggle to resist coming back in and giving me one last hug. Some days the sulking face worked, some days it didn’t.
I stretched and minded how much flames came out when I yawned; she would get upset if I set another pair of curtains on fire. She constantly told me she was looking into fire-proof blinds so I’d stop being a fire hazard. She constantly forgot to follow through, as well.
Again, I didn’t mind. I was her companion because I chose it, and I chose her because I liked her. She was soft and gentle, accommodating but firm: no scratching up the floors with my claws, no stealing her jewelry, no biting her (but biting strangers in the house was okay -- as long as I quit once she deemed them safe). In return, she bought me the best cuts from the butcher, provided a den all of my own inside her house, and pretended not to notice when I took trinkets from other humans. All in all, sharing this den was of a mutual benefit; I didn’t have to defend my hoard from other dragons, and she got a house-sitter with teeth.
Speaking of which.
My nap was interrupted when I heard something at the back door. A quick stretch of the wings brought me to my perch in the back, where I could watch from the ceiling. The door jiggled a few times before the door shuddered and broke; two men made their way inside, bodies dressed all in black.
A smile curled around my long snout, tiny puffs of smoke wisping through the air. This was my favorite part of the job.
Slithering back into my hidey-holes, I followed them closely. They split up, one to cover the front rooms and one to cover the back rooms. I decided to take the one making his way to the living room first.
Letting my tail trail down to the wall, I casually flicked something plastic down to the ground. He spun at the noise, gun ready and waiting. Of course, he saw nothing, and I gave him long enough to tell himself so before going back. Slipping along the wall, I knocked off another un-breakable wall doodad, causing him to swing around again.
He approached as slowly as he could, both hands on the gun. He spotted the knocked-down trinkets and bent to investigate. Digging my claws into the wall, I slowly crawled upside down until my eyes would be near his, working my smoke up into a small cloud.
He stood, scratching his head. I reached out and licked the back of his neck with a slime-filled tounge. He jerked and spun. His eyes grew wide. I think his heart may have stopped, but his lungs didn’t.
Letting out a wailing scream, he shouted for the other guy while leveling his gun at me.
Wow. Brave.
He fired a few wild shots that all missed me. My tounge lashed out, snatching his little piece of metal and landing it right in my mouth. I bit down twice and swallowed, burping up an extra-hot flame at his face. It singed his nose and eyebrows. Smacking the flames from his face, he turned and fled.
I heard a startled shout from behind, bullets zinging around me. I spun my neck, still upside-down, and breathed a billowing cloud of smoke at him. While he was busy screaming and flailing and swearing, I slid back up the wall and disappeared.
A few more shots went off before he walked out of my cloud to find me ‘gone. Swearing about demons and ghosts, the second guy began to flee.
Cackling, I landed with a thud on the ground and chased after him, snapping my jaws together and breathing points of fire at his behind until he was out of my domain. Chuckling, I swung the door shut with my tail and lumbered off to check the rooms. Nothing was touched, the only suggestion of their presence being a small backpack in the center of the room. I tossed it on her bed and went back to my perch; the sun was exceptionally nice near the front rooms this time of day.
She came home after a five-hour nap and plopped on the couch, exhausted. I watched her for a moment, the TV coming on as her eyes slid over her dwelling. They caught sight of the holes in the wall, both from my claws and the far-flung bullets, a tiny bit of scorch left on the wall by accident. She tossed a suspicious glance over at me, which I immediately pretended to ignore.
She went to check the rest of the house, groaning as she did, then came back and dug something out of the freezer. I caught the scent of frozen meat and looked up, the human dangling a couple of fat steaks in my direction.
I chomped on my snack, likely a reward for my good service, while she dug the spackle out of a back room and got to work.
She didn’t mind. I knew it. After all, a few holes and scorch marks are par for the course when you live with a dragon.