This was not what he meant when he asked you to help him bathe after a particularly rough mission. In fact, it was the furthest thing from what he had in mind.

And yet, here he was—submerged in a bathtub, surrounded by an absurd amount of white, puffy bubbles that nearly reached his chin. Amongst the frothy sea, a small army of rubber duckies floated aimlessly, their colorful little beaks pointed upward in perpetual, blissful smiles.

Calcharo, however, was not smiling.

With his arms crossed over his chest, his deadpan stare remained locked onto the floating figures, his expression one of sheer, exhausted disbelief. The occasional ripple in the water betrayed his mild fidgeting, a clear sign of his growing impatience. But he didn't say anything.

Not yet.

You hummed, reaching for one of the many rubber duckies—this one a bright blue. With a mischievous grin, you brought it up to his face, giving it an enthusiastic squeeze.

SQUEAK!

The noise echoed through the bathroom.

Calcharo's eye twitched. Slowly, ever so slowly, his gaze lifted from the bubbles to meet yours. His scowl deepened, as if trying to drill a hole through your skull with sheer will alone.

Unfortunately for him, intimidation was a little hard to achieve when one was sitting in a sea of bubbles, surrounded by grinning duckies.

You had to press your lips together to stifle your laughter, but your amusement still shone in the twinkle of your eyes. Undeterred by his silent protest, you waved the blue duck in front of him again, squeezing it once more.

SQUEAK!

Calcharo exhaled sharply through his nose. "Are you serious right now?"

"Absolutely," you chirped, plopping the blue duck onto his shoulder as best you could considering the slippery state of his skin.

His glare darkened. You giggled.

With an exaggerated sigh, he let his head tip back against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes as if summoning whatever shred of patience he had left.

"Next time," he muttered, voice dripping with exasperation, "I'm running my own damn bath."